I’ve had small-town politics on my mind lately. I attended quite the (always) lively town meeting this weekend. What made it more heart-drumming for me was I stepped up to bat for our town library. I drive with my friend, she brings the soft cushions for the bleachers (though this time we were in an auditorium and last year we held the meeting outside in a parking lot with residents in their cars). I bring coffee and snacks (one of these days I WILL bring popcorn), and get myself comfy for the 3.5-hour show.

Although I reside in New England like the fictional town of Gilmore Girls, we’re not quite so small as to fill a quaint barn with our town residents [though our town moderator is a local farmer]. However, with a population nearing ten thousand, and over half of them registered voters, our meetings are lucky if we get a few hundred to attend. In the past few years, when hot button topics were articles on the town warrant, we’ve maxed out at maybe 700 people.

Saturday night, 150 of my fellow townies joined for the heated debate of…

• Sprinkler/watering installation

• School budget (Gasp! NOBODY got up for this multiple-million-dollar line item?! Shock of the year!)

• Department budgets

• The right to have marijuana facilities in our town

• and about 20 other articles on the warrant

I’m an elected member of the Library Board of Trustees. While watching our budget get slashed more and more, and after many conversations with the Board, I knew I had to do something. This is why I joined the committee after all. If the proposed reduced budget succeeded and the upcoming override vote at town elections does not pass (it rarely does, because nobody wants to have more taxes taken), our little, but ever-busy, ever-present library would likely have to shut its doors and lay people off.

Though all departments would see staggering cuts, none of them were going to lose state certification, state aid (money which we use to fill holes in our chronically deficient budget), and reciprocal privileges. This means: loss of money, inability to get and circulate materials from other libraries for any of our residents (even if they went to another library), inability to pay utilities, less open hours (because we can’t heat the place or have electricity), less meetings (and LOTS of groups meet at the library), and not being in compliance (we are REQUIRED to be open a certain number of hours), less events, laid off staff, and likely

…closure.

It would be a domino effect. Wishing, wanting, and hoping will not keep a library afloat.

I couldn’t see that happen.

Our library served as a regional vaccine center this spring, vaccinating over 7,000 people per month, while remaining open throughout the past year (via curbside pick-up or scheduled appointments), distributing over 2,500 materials per month. The library stepped up when called upon. So now it was my turn to do the same. Libraries are an essential part of our community, providing free resources, free meeting spaces, fellowship, knowledge…life.

Heart pounding in my chest, I went to the mic to speak, representing the Library Board. I pleaded our case (I had it printed and rehearsed).

I rallied people in the auditorium to speak on our behalf.

When told, “You’ll need to put that in writing before the end of the meeting…” I immediately presented copies for all of the committees up front. (I am always prepared - Plan B and organization are my two middle names)

I had to go up a second time—mid-vote!—to clarify and request where the money I requested would come from. I think I surprised the Finance Committee and Select Board with my bold request. Never underestimate the library nor its board, even when this soft-spoken gal gets to the mic.

(I’d like to acknowledge that the Select Board, departments, and Finance Committee had all worked very hard on the budgets and I know they struggled with where to cut. It’s no easy task.)

I sat back down.

We used our clicker remotes (instead of our traditional waving of neon cards) to vote.

Our amendment was the only one to pass.

I did it.

The town’s residents in attendance did it. My amendment won something like 112 to 44.

I am not one to boast or let pride get to me, quite the opposite, but this time…I am so very proud. And grateful. Grateful that another resident allowed me to go first AND he also spoke strongly on our behalf. Grateful that others voiced their support at the mic. Grateful to serve on this committee and to feel that I CAN have an impact on our town.

I’m still hopeful the override vote on the ballot passes, so all departments can get their budgets, so many staff get the step-up raises or cost of living wages they deserve, so that my amendment is moot and we have more money back in our town’s “free cash” fund and even better budget than the one I proposed.

I’m also hopeful that more residents will feel compelled to attend town meetings—because 150 people of thousands cannot be left to make all these important decisions and because it is our right as citizens to let our voices be heard.

Oh and here’s a lovely aside…I’ve been working on a new manuscript (just finished my final round of edits after nearly 2 years writing/editing/taking a break) about a small town librarian fighting to save the library that’s been in her family for generations. :-) Life lends itself to inspire, doesn’t it?

Thank you to all who came and supported the library!