Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away the people of a small planet called Worcester, MA, a group of humans came to together to make their planet a better place.
It takes a lot of nerve to step into the Worcester's public spotlight, as politician, or advocate, or wanna-be. The critics can be unmerciful. You chose the public spotlight.
There are people who deserve to be criticized. City councilors deserve the public's wrath - they make decisions that affect lives. Pocketbooks too. If that isn't reason enough.
It’s a tough job being a Worcester city councilor - free cell phone service, free parking behind city hall, free health insurance, work one day a week. Tough life huh?
And there's plenty of criticism - thick skin required. As a councilor eventually you learn to ignore it. Rationalizing - what the heck do the voters know about my job? I'm killing myself to please them. They don't appreciate what I'm doing - so screw them. Mistake!
Then they eventually begin to ignore the constituents, focusing instead on the mindless babbling of their sycophants - oh councilor, you're the best. Worcester doesn't know what it has in you. Democracy begins to run afoul. Despotism rears its ugly head.
Those laudable reasons for becoming a councilor eventually disappear. Mistrust and paranoia take hold. People they thought were friends are now enemies. An inadvertent dis becomes reason for revenge. It becomes the driving force in their life. Fact is, politics makes people crazy. Politicians as well as voters.
So jump on your time machine to November 8, 2011. Barbara Haller, the Ida Amin of Worcester politics, has just lost the election. The D4 voters celebrate into the AM hours. Barbara Haller leaves the city in disgrace, under cover of darkness, humiliated after losing, a wildly lopsided loss not seen in 30 years of Worcester politics. The wrath of the voters has been exercised.
What did the Chicken Lady do that was wrong? Well, ask any voter in D4 - she tricked and lied to the voters, abused and manipulated their trust. In other words, she played them for fools.
Even Haller's contingent of followers, having never numbered more than two dozen, supplemented with a couple idealistic, naive Clark University students, dwindled to zero. No one wanted anything to do with her. She became radioactive.
Instead of moving forward together. She was alone.
Stay tuned.
