A friend recently received a nomination to the St. Louis County Library Board. I congratulated her and suggested she get a better car: at a library grand re-opening I watched a current member arrive in a Bentley SUV.
Two items from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch…
In St. Louis City, political leaders are still at odds over appointments to the Board of Freeholders. Debate over how many freeholders ought to live north of Delmar and their backgrounds confounds the city’s Board of Aldermen.
In St. Louis County, the head of the police union complains that County Executive Dr. Sam Page’s appointments to the police board lack representation from unincorporated areas where the county police due most of their work.
Time for a quick chuckle…
Every week about the St. Louis region, in the state of Missouri and around the country countless good citizens get appointed to boards, commissions, councils, committees and such. Press coverage inevitably notes the appointees’ credentials: most have advanced college degrees, enjoy great professional achievement and like dogs.
Ironically, in both the current city and county instances critical parts of the populace again got ignored: the poor and middle class.
Per census reports, in 2018 in St. Louis County 10.6% of the population lived in poverty. Last year the county’s annual median household income stood at $66,778 (substantially higher than the state and federal median), meaning that the “middle class” in St. Louis County in 2018 ran from around $55,000 to about $80,000.
Over in the city, 22.1% of the population in 2018 lived in poverty. [see www.data.census.gov for the info.]
So, while the Post covers which potential appointees live where, perhaps the more critical question ought to be, who will represent working and struggling people?
After all, the future operation of city and county government and the daily oversight of the county cops doesn’t just impact rich people. It impacts families in homes with one bathroom in many ways much more than it will affect the powerful. And, those with advanced degrees and more resources can move away if they like. Many struggling families remain tied to their homes because they cannot afford to move.
Back around the turn of the century I was a member of the Missouri Advisory Council on Alcohol and Drug Abuse. That group was unusual in that some of the council members worked in treatment and prevention (both areas notorious for low pay) or had utilized services themselves. But that was a federally-mandated board with strict composition requirements. And, unlike most similar groups, members received mileage and got free meals at meetings.
In Songs of Distant Earth, an Arthur C. Clarke novel from 1986, a colony of refugees from earth is governed by the unluckiest person on the planet. Assuming that no one who really wants to be in charge ought to be in charge, the head of the colony is selected by lottery each year. No sane person, of course, wants to “win.”
True, a lottery to fill freeholder or police board seats probably wouldn’t yield people wanting to do those jobs. Still, perhaps the criteria for selecting members shouldn’t be based on an impressive business card. Being a “resident” alone ought to earn some people the opportunity to serve.
Glenn Koenen