Nothing to fear, but fear itself

I sat in a confined, musty courthouse room June 7, prepared to hear the county council budget review. Surprisingly, only three out of 20,000 Carroll County residents were interested in discovering where and how their money was spent this year.

I am an amateur when it comes to county government. Words like budget, tax and fund, and acronyms like CAGIT and COIT previously caused me to suffer slight narcolepsy. County government can be intimidating to younger adults like me. But through recent experience, I have found that perhaps even elders fear council and commissioner meetings.

In all honesty there is nothing to fear. Attending a council or commissioners' meeting is like eavesdropping on a soft-spoken, family brunch. All members are seated around a table, separated from the audience by a thick wooden barricade and discuss what financial "knit-picking" can be done to compensate for the sum spent over county budget.

This week, member tension seemed to increase with arguments concerning council rules and powers, but was relieved when discussion turned to yesterday's softball game. Members eventually reverted back to discussing what was essential, like copiers and prison cooks, and what was not essential, like local parks and animal control officers. In conclusion, the audience left overwhelmingly educated after the relatively painless, four-hour meeting.

It is not necessary to live with the suspense of not knowing what is going on in our area. We may have to crane our neck, read lips and face the backs of elected county officials to find out, but it is worth being informed. I have learned how the county resolves issues, what kind of financial crisis the community seems to be in and what little response comes from the community as result.

It may be that we fear these meetings, but I hope we have not given-up on the power of the people. I encourage the 19,997 residents who chose not to attend the recent special council meeting to take advantage of all public county meetings. After all, the whispers that take place at that table impact our entire community. And we all deserve a piece of our rightful brunch.

By Jenna Buehler, Comet writer-intern