Great Expectations

Ringed in an orderly arc on one side of the room was Group A, which carried on discussion about the nuts-and-bolts operations of the city:
* Budget and Taxes
* Reform and Leadership
* Transportation
* City Services

The largest and most animated group of the evening, Group B, dug into the ways we try (and often fail) to cultivate and nurture the hearts and minds of our citizens:
* Education
* Knowledge Economy
* Arts and Culture
* Poverty

The forum was so well-attended that Group C moved into a spillover space in an adjacent room to carry out their discussion of core quality-of-life issues:
* Planning and Zoning
* Neighborhoods in Flux
* Environment
* Crime

As I spent time listening to each of the three discussion groups, I was repeatedly struck by how deeply and fiercely we Philadelphians care for our city. I was also reminded of how much of an uphill battle that ongoing relationship can be.

This was amply illustrated by Donna Reed Miller, the district’s councilwoman -- or rather, by her complete absence from the event. At-Large Councilman Wilson Goode Jr. was in attendance, as was Stewart Graham, chief of staff for At-Large Councilman Frank Rizzo (who was unable to attend due to a family funeral). When Satullo outlined the evening’s agenda, he noted: “We’re also hopeful, but not certain that someone from Councilwoman Miller’s office will be here.” Fair enough. But wait, there’s more: “She had originally said she was going to come. Decided not to. We’re hopeful that…a substitute will come.” I believe there’s a phrase for that in the dating world: “She’s just not that into you.”

When it came to many of Miller’s constituents, it appeared that the feeling was mutual. In Group C, where discussion touched on district-specific issues such as traffic calming on Lincoln Drive, participants were blunt. “In the Northwest, we do not have access to our city councilperson…[Miller] has been known to say that she’s written this area off,” one said. Another constituent recounted a recent telephone exchange in which Miller’s legislative assistant brushed her off, declaring “[Miller] doesn’t want to speak to you” before abruptly slamming down the phone. A third person added that if anyone in the room expected help from Miller, “You must be smokin’ something.”

The discontent was not confined to a lone breakout group. When Graham, Rizzo’s envoy, suggested during the concluding Q&A session that civic groups could empower themselves by inviting their district councilperson to meetings, audible snickers broke out in the audience. “Not here!” shouted a man from his seat as a wave of knowing laughter washed over the room. In all fairness, I am not one of Miller’s constituents, nor have I heard her office’s side of these stories. But what I witnessed did not bode well is the “Can This Relationship Be Saved?” department.

Fairness, in fact, was one of the things participants wanted from the powers that be. I heard this articulated again and again in a myriad of ways. Participants repeatedly voiced concerned that longtime residents of the district’s neighborhoods were being priced out and forced to live elsewhere by rising housing prices and potential surges in property taxes, and were deeply unhappy that the very people who had sustained the district’s neighborhoods through hard times might be rewarded with the open end of a moving van.

The city clearly has left much to be desired in its public messages about the Full Value Project for property tax reassessment. Cluttering the Board of Revision of Taxes homepage with improperly punctuated jargon like “fully implement the new Oracle based system that will replace the legacy VSAM system” constitutes a complete failure to communicate in plain English. (What’s more, it’s not particularly informative from a technical standpoint: Oracle back-end, front-end, middleware, silverware...what are we talking about here?)

Far more important to participants than chasing the latest technology bells and whistles, however, was the state of the city’s schools. In Group A, one participant noted that he watched several friends move out of the city to the suburbs, but that none of the people leaving Philly ever mentioned the wage tax as something that motivated them to leave. No, it was crime and the city’s schools. Group B, which dealt explicitly with education issues, was by far the largest breakout group of the evening. The questions surrounding education dived into to the heart of other qualities that participants wanted in greater measure: transparency and accountability.

Why do the standards, guidelines, and geographic frameworks keep shifting for the schools? Why are initiatives that roll out with a great deal of rhetoric and fanfare scrapped for seemingly arbitrary reasons? How can we expect kids to keep up when surprisingly large proportions of school monies seem to be dedicated to physical plant issues? When information is made public, or when communications channels are kept open, summit participants have been keeping a close eye on any new developments in the school district. The Great Expectations gathering took place only one day after Dr. Arlene Ackerman was tapped to become Philadelphia School District CEO. In speaking about education reform, one discussion participant in Group B generically referred to the head of the Philly schools as a “he” -- triggering an immediate volley of corrections: “SHE,” “She,” “SHE,” interjected several people who were clearly on top of the district’s every move.

If you listen to the questions formulated by the groups and presented at the end of the evening, you can hear a great deal of frustration. Yet you’ll hear also hear optimism -- stubborn and guarded, as we are wont to be here under the shadow of Billy Penn’s hat, but optimistic nonetheless. What else would bring so many people out on a wintry night? (Editor’s note: Audio to be posted at a later date.)

Some leaders might accuse the city’s more vocal residents of being “churlish” in their demands. But that’s a term that has its origins in Middle Ages, when society was divided into hoards of peasants with a sprinkling of aristocrats on top. In a city still rife with political fiefdoms, it’s not surprising that some of our municipal movers and shakers might treat the concerns of everyday citizens as needless interruptions brought to them by “little people” and “peons.” One summit participant actually voiced his frustration at the persistence of pay-to-play and other influence-peddling behavior in city government by decrying the “medieval” workings of our public institutions.

But a city’s schools, streets and services exist to sustain its citizens -- not its overseers. Should any local power broker forget this, you might want to come join us over here in the 21st century. Otherwise, there’s a long line of people who are completely prepared to get medieval on “your” assets.