Last week, last year, the last thirty years, all in the past

I told myself that it was not about me, I told myself to keep my emotions to myself, and to not even say anything if it wasn't going to advance the situation. When the facilitator asked everyone to speak about what their current thoughts were about the situation, I was last of about twelve people, and as my turn neared I could hear my heart beating loudly, calling attention to my obvious emotions. My mind was blank, and I had nothing prepared. It all seemed too complicated to sort out in that moment.

So I spoke about my long history with their group, reminding them that I have always been a supporter and that my economics and activities were intertwined with theirs, that I felt I had to speak up when I saw them going rapidly down the wrong road, and that I was sorry if anyone had felt hurt through what I saw as my truth-telling. In short, I made it all about me.

I was embarrassed, but the facts were there. I needed some acknowledgment from them, but I didn't get it. I got stony silence, and even some hostility. I've counseled myself all week that it's projection to think it was directed at me, that really it is directed at my whole organization, my associates, and what we represent to these folks who are working really hard for a change that makes them feel insecure and fearful of nearly everyone.

They set that up, but I don't doubt that their intentions are true to what they believe. They don't see a membership organization as a viable model for them anymore. They see making decisions as efficient processes best left to others with some perceived degree of expertise not available to them as farmers. I see it as a huge process of errors based on false assumptions, but it is not my organization. That was made abundantly clear.

So I'm just stepping back and grieving, basically, and have to put my own self back on track in a life that doesn't include something that has been part of it for 30 years. I can do that. There are a few people whom I will remain connected with, but mostly, I'm stepping back. I'll recycle the screens, put all the t-shirt ideas I've worked on for years for them (to no result) in a bottom drawer, and just stop trying.

I hope it works for them the way they want it to. I can see their logic, as all along I have been able to see how they are thinking, but just didn't agree with it. I saw clearly the abrupt change in the organization when the new members were appointed, with no accountability to the membership and no communication either. Appointing more people with no stake in the success of the members will compound the errors, but maybe they will luck out and find some really good ones, people who are grounded in the community and know something about the issues.
People who are diligent and work to become invested, to care deeply, and to keep the organization on the right track. I'm assuming they will intend that, and I hope they will succeed.

But I'm really glad it isn't my organization. When someone is wounded and there is no acknowledgment, they tend to close up and stop trying, and broken trust takes a long time to repair. So it goes. It won't be repaired. My team let me know they get me, but we are finished with our work for now. The City didn't agree to close the street, though they did support our proposal for an alternate site for the farmers, and that may come to action.

I'm an officer for our organization, and my job is to record and communicate, and that is plenty for me for now. It's ironic that I was the farmers' strongest advocate within our membership, always trying to bring people around to see things the way I thought the farmers saw them. I feel injustice and that's always a clue that perception and action are disconnected somehow. Emotions got in the way, but when you care about something very much, it is hard to make strictly rational decisions. The rational decision would be to not even write this post, which is why it has taken me so long.

They will do what they do and all I can do is accommodate and work around them. It feels exactly like an unbalanced, abusive relationship I was involved in many years ago. All I could do with that was step back, stop participating, and grieve the loss until it stopped hurting. It did eventually. This will too. The sense of relief is already there, that I don't have to care. It is not about me.

I'm over here, doing this other thing. It's plenty to keep me busy. I replaced the Wednesday night meeting with three other decision-making bodies with a lot more potential for learning and contributing. They are all happy to see me when I show up, and that feels so very rewarding.

Good luck, farmers. I still care, of course, but it is not my dog.