While leafing through a coupon circular in the newspaper in the days leading up to Mother’s Day (don’t 
judge: we all cope with the stay-at-home order in our own way), I came across a somewhat alarming advertisement come-on: “Make Mom Melt Away.”
In this time of mandated togetherness, I’m sure the ad copywriter for that chocolate company isn’t the only one who wishes household members sharing close quarters would disappear. I feel the same way about Donald Trump.
So much of our normal lives has melted away since mid-March. We’ve worked through all the stages of grief: denial (“Let’s hunker down for the weekend until this all blows over”), anger (“The governor can’t just cancel my haircut!”), bargaining (“Open the store long enough for me to buy a new pair of jeans, and I’ll wear a mask”), depression (“I don’t care if the economy reopens; I’m gonna stay home, alone with my chocolate and Netflix”) and acceptance (“I’ve subscribed to Zoom Premium”).
Yet so much hasn’t. Nationwide, two-thirds of all those still employed leave home to work. Buses still run, though with fewer passengers. Council hasn’t melted away, though watching them on Zoom doesn’t feel like a real meeting. I used to think Town Council would make a good reality TV show, but the Zoom version just seems like Hollywood Squares without the wit.
Council may need a reminder that constituents haven’t melted away, either, though we aren’t as visible as we were in the flesh. I hear from town residents who feel shut out of the decision-making process. Notices about proposed developments arrive two days before a meeting (legally allowable, but it gives residents almost no time to prepare to comment at the meeting). Meetings are open only to those who have internet access at home and computers that can download Zoom. Agendas aren’t made public until right before the meeting.
Increasingly, council resembles a cartoon in The New Yorker in which the boss tells the employee: “We want to include you in this decision without letting you affect it.”
As mere Zoom talking heads, council may feel disconnected from the community, but we’re still here; we’re still talking with one another; and we’re still trying to talk with council. We won’t melt away.
— Nancy E. Oates
Deborah Fulghieri
/ May 11, 2020I’m glad you’re back! I was worried that the Greene Tract would be your last article. You are right, staff have shaved off even more time for pesky taxpayers to find out what the town is up to. The pesky planning board/commission used to get piles of material, sometimes just before meetings, according to my old emails. What are pesky residents to do?
Nancy Oates
/ May 12, 2020Stay in contact with council members. Call them. Email them at mayorandcouncil@townofchapelhill.org. That puts the email in the public archives, so news media can keep track of what the public is concerned about. What with the major disruption the pandemic has caused in our lives, combined with the repeated scandals and incompetency of the White House and the selfishness of the majority party in our state legislature, people are giving up. But as comforting as that is in the short run, we have an obligation to fight for those who can’t fight for themselves. We need to look after one another. We can begin by reminding local leaders of that.