Let's Keep Talking

We have walked through many of the campaign materials available; enough that we can pull it together. Further articles may be added for historical clarity.

When I was studying in Paris in 2008, a professor asked who I planned to vote for. I gave the answer I had grown up around — the comfortable explanation my community often used:

“We just don’t know enough about the other guy.”

The room went silent.

In that silence, I understood something I had somehow missed: If I was going to make decisions that affected other people, it wasn’t enough to rely on assumptions. It wasn’t enough to let my group’s feelings fill in the blanks. It wasn’t enough to let comfort stand in for clarity.

I flew home. I did the research I should have done earlier. I changed my mind. And I voted for the first time, in Georgia.

That moment taught me: If I have the power to make decisions about others, I have the responsibility to examine my own bias.

It is that responsibility that led to this election series.

What This Election Revealed

If this election had been only about budgets, bylaws, or experience, we would not be here now.

The problem was bigger and older:

• One neighbor had become the target of a long-standing narrative.

• Feelings were treated as facts.

• Rumors spread faster than documents.

• Silence replaced discussion.

• Anyone who did speak up was assumed to be controlled or coerced.

Unless a community actively resists systemic bias, it becomes the lens through which every action is interpreted.

And here is the uncomfortable truth:

People enforcing bias rarely feel like bullies. They feel like protectors.

Fear creates certainty. Certainty creates righteousness. Righteousness creates permission.

That is how good neighbors end up:

• repeating alarming claims

• interpreting neutral actions as threats

• policing someone’s tone or presence

• assuming motive instead of asking questions

• believing the worst without documentation

This happens when discomfort gets mistaken for evidence.

How Bias Turns Into Bullying

WorkSafe New Zealand recognizes a specific pattern of institutional bullying: when a person can do nothing right, every action becomes a new fault.

Systemic bias becomes bullying when:

• one person is framed as a threat

• every reaction is interpreted negatively

• whisper networks replace conversations

• challenge disappears but repetition grows

This happened here. Not because people wanted to cause harm — but because they believed they were “protecting the community.”

And that is how bullying hides inside communities that think of themselves as kind.

The Real Choice: What We Are Voting For

People often asked: “How did this get so divisive? It’s just a little election.”

We have demonstrated, with their own words, how a set of candidates felt safe using dismissive language, character attacks, and a slew of fallacies because they see themselves as protectors. And it worked.

We stayed focused on our values, our research, our own messages. Meanwhile, someone else kept talking about us — loudly and repeatedly — but never to us.

That's not balanced, and we cannot possibly talk about issues if we're stuck trying to decide which neighbors are more nefarious. We avoided that conversation and tried to refocus.

If I cared about winning at any cost, I could have adopted the same communication tactics: fear framing, character narratives, emotional urgency, repetition without documentation. I did have a position - I wanted to work with Evan, Paul, and Toni - and we agreed on what values we would bring to the neighborhood board as organizers. That position is not divisive, but those communication tactics would be.

Honestly, I don’t want to win that way - I wouldn't be okay with myself. And I hope future elections won’t ask anyone else to in order to see real progress. When we support calm, factual communication — even under pressure — we vote for a community built on trust.

We are Not Unique, and We Can Learn From That

I have lived through systemic bullying before. I won’t get into specifics because there's stigma, from a question - did we deserve it? In quiet moments, I remind myself that attacking at all is off balance.

Conversation, goals, support - these are the tools that bring everyone back to solid ground. They are the tools we want teachers to use with our kids, therefore these are the tools we want to use with each other. That's why we stayed calm. We didn’t accuse back. We trusted leaders to help. And still, the narrative protected itself — through omission, silence, and repetition of half-truths.

Not one person interrupted the story being built around us. 

That silence hurt more than the accusations, even though we knew the risk someone would take on if they spoke up. We also couldn't ask.

Bias becomes bullying when no one interrupts the story. And once it becomes bullying, even the calmest person cannot win.

No one deserves to be isolated like that — not myself, not our board directors, not anyone.

That is why I am asking something of every neighbor in Ken Lake:

Don’t just speak kindly — challenge gossip when it starts.

Small interventions stop bias from taking root:

• “You felt attacked — I wonder what she was thinking?”

• “Do you think there’s more going on for them?”

• “That sounds hard. What would it take to rebuild trust?”

• “Hold on — is that documented?”

• “Let’s find out.”

This is how communities stay healthy:

• We interrupt harmful stories early.

• We check facts before we repeat them.

• We ask what else might be true.

• We give people the dignity of full context.

• We push back — gently — when certainty replaces evidence.

This is not about choosing sides - I've heard surprising statements from a few places now, and I use these comments to redirect. We need to do that for everyone, every time.

Systemic bullying will not end on its own, because we have shown that it is a self-sustaining power structure. Bullying ends when someone says:

“Hold on. Let’s check." then, "How can we help?”

That someone can be any one of us.

Already, many of us have spoken up, in small ways and large. Thank you, every kind word is appreciated whether you spoke to us, for us, or even to us for someone else. As we have shown there is power in repetition, and there is also power in not letting anyone feel alone or isolated.

Why This Conversation Matters

We’ve talked in this series about communicating under stress — how fear and pressure can turn ordinary conversations into something sharper, louder, or less fair than anyone intends.

We’ve talked about systemic bias — how one uncomfortable feeling can get treated as evidence, how narratives grow without documentation, and how that can turn into hostility before anyone realizes it.

And because we talk about these things openly at home, something we're really proud of happened:

My youngest child recognized depersonalization happening at school. 

She saw classmates begin to talk about another student as if he were a problem instead of a person. She noticed how the story was changing. She noticed how it made him feel.

And she got adults involved — not to punish anyone, but to help everyone understand the full context and guide the kids toward more successful, kinder tools for communication.

We are the adults.

This is why we need to talk about it.

Because good communication doesn’t just “happen.” We model it. We teach it. We make our community safer and more robust. We move forward, instead of being trapped in the same old grievances.

If we want a neighborhood where people feel safe to speak, disagree, participate, and belong, then we — the adults in the room — must be willing to look honestly at how narratives form and protect themselves, how they distort relationships, and how we can break the cycle early.

Talking about systemic bias is not divisive. Ignoring it is.

That is why this series exists. That is why we speak. That is why we keep going.

Let's keep talking.