When I was in college, I made the drastic mistake of joining a fraternity. My senior year I was appointed pledgemaster, meaning I inherited the task of recruiting and educating new members for our chapter.
Excited about my position, I garnered the support of other brothers on the executive board and drafted an entirely new recruitment and pledge program. The new program focused on national fraternity values rather than the recreational traditions of our local chapter, as was the case for many years.
Some members of the board were willing to support the change. Contrary to the opinion of a large majority of brothers who felt the pledge process should focus on experiences rather than education – experiences they viewed as sacred traditions or rights of passage – the board implemented the new programs with an executive decree.
Despite record recruitment numbers and positive reactions from school administrators about the new plans, our chapter tore itself apart. Tensions between brothers escalated to the point where representatives from our national headquarters intervened to figure out what the problem was. As a result, several executive board members, including myself, were not only removed from their positions, but suspended from participating in chapter activities until they graduated – they could still achieve alumni status.
I spent my final semester living in a house full of very angry brothers – who undoubtedly threw my new pledge program out the window – and haven’t visited or spoken to any of them since.
In hindsight, I wonder what I thought gave me the right to think I knew what was best for the fraternity chapter, when a majority of the brothers were against my ideas? Even though I had the best intentions for the chapter, my actions resulted in no change except that I was ostracized by those I had once considered my friends.
I’m not the only one to fall into this type of political trap; the Cape Elizabeth Town Council approved a 4.6 percent increase in the budget despite an overwhelming – I sat through the four-hour public hearing – number of parents, teachers, students and residents who told them they wanted a 6 percent increase in the budget, much like the majority of my brothers who were against my proposed pledge process.
If it weren’t for the state’s new school consolidation law – stepping in much like national fraternity representatives – which allows voters the final say on the school budget, the town would have been stuck with the proposed 4.6 percent increase and Cape Elizabeth residents would have been right to feel their children’s education shortchanged by their municipal leaders.
Recent public hearings at South Portland’s City Hall have reminded me of those during Cape Elizabeth’s budget development process; whenever the city council discusses amending the ordinance allowing dogs on Willard Beach, dozens of residents attend and speak against any change. Still, some councilors are supporting amendments on the basis that they are representing residents too afraid to attend meetings, which says to me there are only a select few in South Portland against allowing dogs on the beach.
Councilors should be careful not to confuse their own agendas with the opinion of the majority, a situation that can only result in ineffective policymaking and possible political suicide, as seen in the Cape Elizabeth school budget referendum and my fraternity chapter. After all, even if our chapter did need a new pledge process, even if Cape Elizabeth residents can’t afford a tax increase and even if there are health issues on Willard Beach, isn’t it still the responsibility of elected officials to act on the will of a majority of those they represent? At what point are they allowed to become more than delegates and create policy they believe is for the greater good of the people they represent, even against the will of the majority – is that still a democratic process?
I’m no politician, but I’m not so sure.
                                                                 
                    – Nate Jones