But sadly, the Lorax doesn't go to those meetings

Once upon a time I used to make my living explaining the workings of local government to readers of a small-town newspaper, but apparently I've lost my knack. Lately I keep trying to explain to people why I'm so fired up about a recent (in)action by our county commissioners, but the whole situation defies comprehension. So I went to a public forum to gather further information about the topic, and while it felt good to see a room full of passionate people willing to work for positive change, I left the forum fearing that the situation is hopeless, because how do you get the average county commissioner to care about bees?

It's not just bees, of course; it's butterflies and birds and native plant species and green space and hiking trails and cliffs and caves and who knows what other natural features might be made available for study and recreation at a 262-acre piece of property that the Friends of the Lower Muskingum River would like to purchase in a rural area of Washington County, Ohio. The property has been on the market for several years with no potential buyers in sight, and it is already protected by a conservation easement so it can't be developed. It would be an ideal spot to transform into a conservation area and park, with a pollinator habitat and stream access and ponds and cliffs and trails.

Better yet, the state of Ohio has set aside money to assist with just this sort of purchase. The Clean Ohio Fund provides grants all over the state to preserve green spaces, but much of the money set aside for our region has gone undistributed because of a dearth of applications. If the Friends of the Lower Muskingum River successfully applied for a grant, these state dollars already set aside for conservation purposes would fund 75 percent of the cost of the property, and we'd be well on our way to preserving another valuable green space that would attract tourists, hikers, and families as well as birds, bees, and butterflies.

But (and you knew there was a "but") the application process requires the Friends of the Lower Muskingum to get a letter of support from the county commissioners. The commissioners would not have to commit money or time or anything tangible toward the project; all they would have to do is write a letter saying, essentially, "Go ahead and give some money to the Friends of the Lower Muskingum to buy this property--just don't ask us for anything else."

But they won't do it. Refused outright. When challenged, dug in and doubled down, for reasons that seem ridiculous: They think the property is overpriced. (But the grant process requires a full appraisal, which should resolve that issue.) They don't want to lose property tax revenue. (Around $2000 per year, which is nothing compared to the potential revenue streams produced by green tourism.) They want tax dollars to be spent for development, not conservation. (But this particular property cannot be developed, and the Clean Ohio funds have already been set aside for no other purpose but conservation.) And, in perhaps the most inane comment I've ever heard from a local government official, they think we already have enough green spaces--and besides, we can put pollinator habitats anywhere! (But we don't, and they won't.)

At the public forum I heard all kinds of interesting statistics about how green spaces improve property values, bring in tourist dollars, and create jobs, and I heard lots of great ideas for trying to persuade the county commissioners to support the grant, but I also heard any number of intelligent people repeating the same sad refrain: "They don't care"--about green spaces, conservation, the Green Ohio Fund, or bees, birds, and butterflies. 

Despite all the positive energy in the room, the whole situation feels increasingly hopeless. I signed the petition (find the link here) and hoped that my signature would make a difference alongside all the others, but I fear that it's a futile effort. 

Last week I was joking around with my grandson, who loves to play with rhyming words: "I am the Lorax," I told him, "I speak for the FLEAS." And he laughed and laughed, so I tried again: "I am the Lorax, I speak for the KNEES. I am the Lorax, I speak for the BEES. I am the Lorax, I speak for the TREES." My grandson thought that was pretty darned funny, but he's still open-minded enough to listen to the Lorax. The county commissioners, on the other hand, prefer to put their hands over their ears and listen to no one but themselves.