When a Neighbor Can Do No Right

When I moved to Ken Lake last year, it didn’t take long to realize something was off.

I went to meetings, took notes, asked questions, and listened. Over time, a clear pattern emerged:

No matter what one director did, it was interpreted in the worst possible light.

This wasn’t about one disagreement, or one tense meeting, or even one flyer.

It was a systemic pattern — consistent, predictable, and visible across meetings, conversations, and campaign materials.

This article explains that pattern, why it emerged, and how it has shaped the climate of our board, and of the election.

This is not about blaming individuals. It is about understanding structural bias — the kind that makes honest participation feel unsafe, no matter how carefully someone speaks or how thoroughly they document their work.

How Systemic Bias Starts: When Emotion Gets Mistaken for Evidence

Systemic bias rarely begins with facts.

It begins with feelings — especially in small communities where everyone knows each other, remembers past moments, and carries unspoken expectations.

A very human thing happens:

• “I feel anxious” becomes “He is alarming.”

• “I feel annoyed” becomes “He is annoying.”

• “I feel uncertain” becomes “He is hiding something.”

This shift — where a private feeling becomes a public judgment — is emotional attribution, and it is the first quiet step in systemic bias.

And it happens long before anyone notices. Quietly, a narrative takes shape, even without documentation.

Not intentionally. Not maliciously. But predictably.

Personal interpretations became community explanations. Interpretations became warnings. Warnings became “facts.”

From that moment on:

• Anything that director did that matched the narrative confirmed it.

• Anything that contradicted it was reframed.

• Neutral actions looked strategic.

• Calm responses looked manipulative.

• Silence looked like guilt.

This is the pattern of systemic bias:

Once a narrative forms about a person, every new action is filtered through it — no matter what the documents say.

This is not about anyone being bad or malicious. It is about how stress and emotion turn into shared stories that shape how an entire community interprets one neighbor.

And once systemic bias takes hold, that person can do nothing right, because the story has already been written.

How Perception and Emotion Can Reverse Narratives Perspective from Elle I’ve been in situations where several people became upset during a difficult conversation — voices tight, emotions high — while the person they were frustrated with responded quietly, trying to stay centered.

What struck me was that he never filed complaints about their tone, even when it was sharp. He let it go so the relationship could move forward.

Later, when conflict escalated elsewhere, the same group described him as angry. That didn’t match what I had witnessed. It reminded me how easily emotion gets misassigned—and how persuasive accusations can feel when they’re grounded in someone’s discomfort rather than in documented behavior.

That experience is part of why I take whisper campaigns and sudden waves of accusations with a large grain of salt. My dad used to say that an attacker is already off balance—so help them find solid ground.

How Bias Feels Like “Protecting the Community”

One of the most important — and uncomfortable — truths about systemic bias is this:

People rarely feel like they are being unfair. They feel like they are defending the community.

The more stressed someone feels, the more righteous the protection instinct becomes.

This is how good neighbors end up:

• repeating unverified claims,

• escalating rumors,

• supporting personal accusations,

• believing worst-case scenarios, and

• policing someone else’s tone, presence, or participation.

Not because they want to harm anyone — but because we are mapping emotions onto a person.

Bias feels like vigilance. It feels like moral duty. It feels like “seeing something clearly.” It feels like doing the right thing.

That is what makes systemic bias so powerful — and so difficult to recognize from the inside.

How Bias Was Reinforced This Election

Several factors strengthened the narrative until it became self-sustaining:

a. Repetition from perceived authorities

When messaging comes from a neighbor you know, a board member, the clerk, or a slate calling itself the “REAL” representatives, they carry authority — even when unsupported. 

b. Fear-based communication spreads faster than accuracy

Messages about danger, collapse, or threats to the community feel urgent — and urgency often replaces evidence.

c. Personality narratives replaced policy conversation

Instead of discussing budgets, lake maintenance, ADU policy, or meeting standards, the conversation shifted to:

• who is good

• who is bad

• who is dangerous

• who is manipulating

• who should not be trusted

Once that shift happens, bias becomes baked into the election narrative. 

d. Silence reinforced the dominant narrative

Neighbors who felt uncomfortable did not want to argue. People who knew the claims were incorrect did not want to get involved. Friends who supported the director did not want to escalate conflict.

Many did speak up—and we are deeply grateful. It matters that no one speaks alone.

But because those being targeted refused to retaliate, the attack narrative stood unchallenged for long stretches.

Silence always reinforces the loudest story—even when the story is wrong.

A Choice That Was Made — Quietly

One important part of this election never appeared on a flyer.

We had serious disagreements with how several board members and contractors conducted themselves. We had concerns about:

• use of authority,

• boundary violations,

• and patterns of communication that harmed trust.

These concerns were not invented after the fact. They were raised in meetings, in documentation, and in private attempts at resolution.

During the election, we made a deliberate choice: we would not publicly accuse, name, or campaign against individuals to further our campaign — even when those individuals named us.

This was not because the concerns weren’t real. It was because we believed elections should be about values, plans, and governance.

That choice mattered.

It meant that voters were not comparing two equally personal narratives. One side named names, attributed motives, created a story. The other refused to.

Silence, in this case, was not neutrality or agreement. It was restraint. In retrospect, that restraint may have protected the tone of the campaign — but it also allowed inaccurate narratives to stand unchallenged. Edited to add: 12/25/25

Why That One Person Could Do Nothing Right

Once the bias took hold:

• If he clarified a claim → he was “arguing.”

• If he stayed silent → he was “hiding something.”

• If he asked a process question → he was “attacking.”

• If he followed procedure → he was “manipulative.”

• If he spoke plainly → he was “rude.”

• If he tried to collaborate → he was “coercive.”

• If he showed emotion → he was “unstable.”

• If he showed restraint → he was “calculating.”

• If I spoke up → this was him too, and therefore an attack.

• If I hosted a candidate forum → he was laying a trap.

  
  

This is the exact pattern that appears in academic case studies of systemic bias and conflict escalation.

Once a narrative frames someone as the problem, every action they take becomes further proof.

The facts no longer matter — interpretation has replaced evidence.

Why This Matters for Our Community

Systemic bias is not about one election, or one candidate, or one neighbor.

It is about the environment we create for:

• future candidates

• committee volunteers

• board members

• new residents

• quiet neighbors who worry about speaking up

• anyone who might someday be the target of a narrative

If we want Ken Lake to be a community where, people participate safely, disagreements stay rooted in policy, documentation matters more than emotion, then we have to learn from how this bias formed.

Next in the Series: The Self-fulfilling Prophecy

To examine how the system reinforced the bias, the next article looks at two public comments delivered during the election—

one from our group, one from theirs—

and what happened when each story was spoken aloud.

How to Spot Systemic Bias

A simple guide for noticing when feelings, not facts, start shaping the story

Systemic bias doesn’t show up all at once. It grows slowly, through small patterns that add up. Here are the easiest signs to watch for.

1. Feelings Are Treated Like Facts

People say things like:

• “He makes me uncomfortable, so he must be doing something wrong.”

• “She seems nervous, so she must be hiding something.”

This is when emotions get turned into judgments.

Ask:

Am I reacting to what actually happened — or just how it made me feel?

2. The Same Action Gets Judged Differently

If two people do the same thing, but only one gets criticized, bias might be at work.

Example:

• One person knocks on doors → friendly.

• Another person knocks on doors → “coercive.”

Ask:

Would my answer be the same if someone else did this?

3. People Guess Someone’s Motives

You hear things like:

• “He did that to get power.”

• “She said that to manipulate everyone.”

These are guesses, not facts.

Ask:

Do we know this for sure, or are we assuming?

4. Everything Becomes “Proof”

No matter what the person does, it’s used against them.

Examples:

• If they talk → they’re “attacking.”

• If they stay quiet → they’re “hiding something.”

• If they follow the rules → they’re “calculating.”

Ask:

Is any action they take seen as positive?

5. Rumors Move Faster Than Records

People repeat stories or warnings, but almost no one checks minutes, emails, or documents.

Ask:

Have we actually seen the proof?

6. “Important” People Repeat the Story

When the narrative comes from:

• long-time neighbors,

• board members, or

• people with leadership roles,

it feels true — even without evidence.

Ask:

Am I trusting this because it’s documented, or because it came from someone confident?

7. Silence Is Treated as Agreement

If people don’t speak up — for any reason — others assume they agree with the loudest voice.

Ask:

Are people quiet because they agree, or because they don’t feel safe talking?

8. The Target’s Side Is Ignored

When bias takes hold, the person at the center:

• isn’t believed,

• isn’t listened to,

• and isn’t given a fair chance.

Ask:

Am I giving them the same fairness I’d want if this were about me?

9. Everything Is Seen Through One Story

If the community decides someone is “the problem,” every action gets viewed through that story.

Ask:

Could there be more than one way to understand this?

10. New Facts Don’t Change the Story

Even when real information doesn’t match the rumor, the rumor keeps going.

Ask:

What would it take to change people’s minds?

If the answer is “nothing,” the narrative is no longer about truth — it’s about bias.

Why This Tool Matters

This guide is about helping us recognize when a story is running on emotion instead of facts.

Healthy communities check their assumptions. They look for documentation. We slow down before judging. And we treat every neighbor the way we’d want to be treated.

Bias grows in silence.  Fairness grows when we ask questions and challenge ourselves.

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