This was originally published as an OpEd in the Sacramento
Bee on August 25, 2015
California is home to some of the nation’s most deteriorated
streets, highways and bridges, with four of the five cities with
the worst road conditions in the United States and 55 percent of
local bridges requiring rehabilitation or replacement. This
disrepair is costing California motorists the most – nearly $762
annually per driver on average, and even more in some areas.
Counties across California are increasingly facing tough
challenges and are asking residents to weigh in in a variety of
ways. However, many still find that only a relatively small
number of community members actually take part in public
conversations and forums. Not involving a cross-section of
residents limits the effectiveness of public engagement efforts,
negatively impacts the breadth and quality of ideas contributed
and can reduce community support for the decisions reached by the
governing body.
Like so many Californians, I am watching the wildfire season this
year with a mixture of awe and concern, but not surprise. We knew
that in this fourth year of drought the fire threat would be at
an all-time high. All the same, when you see people on TV
who have just lost their homes and livelihoods, you can’t help
but wonder how you would respond? How would you face that loss?
That may be why there is also a fascination with Mother Nature at
her angriest. Most of the time our world is relatively benign and
it is easy to believe we are in control. A big wildfire or any
other major natural disaster is a reminder that we are all
relatively small compared to the forces of nature.
CSAC has also produced a video on the Rocky Fire and the
valuable role of county collaboration. You can view it here.
I am standing next to Lake County Sheriff Brian Martin on a
hilltop looking out at the devastated landscape caused by the
Rocky Fire. Nearby are the ruins of a residence and a
burned out vehicle. Although fire roared through this area
two days prior, you can still feel the heat rising up off the
hillside. Wisps of smoke are tell-tale signs that the fire – with
just enough wind – could re-emerge in this area. The Sheriff
doesn’t like what he sees and feels and requests that we leave
the area immediately. I don’t argue.
I remember back to February 19, 2009, when we were nearing our
first class of the CSAC Institute for
Excellence in County Government. Bill Chiat (the newly
appointed Institute Dean) and I had a meeting and openly wondered
how many participants would attend; we had our fingers crossed
this new educational foray would take root. Well, we made it past
that first course where we had seven county supervisors in
attendance. That number grew to 27 attendees for our second class
in March. At that point, we knew we were on to something.
I am not a meteorologist, but every time I see, read or hear a
story about “El Niño” this year I get a little worried. We know
that the Pacific Ocean temperature is rising in a pattern that we
have come to call El Niño. And history tells us that often means
increased precipitation in California’s coming winter season. But
when that rain will come, where it will fall, and over what
period of time are questions that are impossible to answer. There
are just too many variables for any model, algorithm or Old
Farmer’s Almanac to accurately forecast.
As I sat down to write this blog about the County Exhibits at the
State Fair the word that kept coming to mind was “pride.” The
exhibits are all about the counties, but behind each one are
people who are so proud of the produce, products, history,
innovation and natural beauty of their county they just had to
share it with about 750,000 people who will visit the state fair.
I was lucky enough to be one of the judges this year. It’s not
easy when all of the entries are so good.
Despite the diverse and unique nature of California’s 58
counties, what they share in common is of great importance. This
includes how they determine their governance structure, as
authorized by the state constitution. And this very issue is up
for debate before the State Legislature.
Entering the Child Welfare System at age 15 after his mom was
deported to Mexico, Angel is one of approximately 1,600 to 1,800
Foster Care youth who exit the system every month in Los Angeles
County.
Today, Angel’s genuine smile reflects his successful journey and
eagerness to leave a painful past behind. His desire is to
reach greater goals in the future.
Glenn County was carved out of Colusa County in 1891 and named
for a prominent wheat farmer, Hugh Glenn. Behind those
rudimentary facts, however, lies one of the West’s most dramatic
sagas – one of ambition, steely persistence, greed, conflict and
even homicide.
I met with a new editorial writer for the Sacramento Bee the
other day–just a “get to know you” meeting over coffee. She’s
from the Midwest, and wanted to know a little more about
California and our 58 counties. The first thing I tried to tell
her was that our counties are incredibly diverse in demographics,
geography, economics, and more. But with someone new to this
state, how do you begin to tell them just how diverse our
counties really are?
Prison is no picnic. And let’s face it; it’s not supposed to be.
I recently visited the Federal Correctional Institution in
Herlong, California—up in Lassen County—and while the program we
were there to learn about is truly remarkable, my next biggest
takeaway from the experience was that there are many good reasons
to remain a law-abiding citizen.
Technology is driving up customer expectations. Modern technology
has almost eliminated the need to go to the bank, the post
office, the DMV—even retail stores. These days you can order just
about any product or service today and get it delivered tomorrow.
And “Customer Service” means allowing customers to interact with
your company 24-7. That was the concept behind some major changes
in how the San Diego County Land Use and Environmental Group
interacts with the public.
Located along a gritty section of Long Beach Boulevard, across
the street from a 99 cent store and a used-car dealership – far
away from the bright lights and glamour of Southern California –
sits a non-descript two-story building. The only marking on the
façade is a brightly colored mural above the entry way. Amidst a
rainbow and dolphins, it reads, “Paths to Wellness and Recovery.”
This is Los Angeles County’s Long Beach Mental Health
Clinic.
In the southwestern corner of sprawling San Bernardino County,
hard against the San Bernardino mountains, there’s a rustic old
fire camp. It’s almost quaint when you first see it, but it
doesn’t take long to realize that the crews training there are
engaged in serious business. They are training to fight wild land
fires in the rugged mountains just to the north—and with the
drought in its fourth year, they are already busy.
All over California water purveyors are restricting when people
can water lawns and other ornamental plantings. That makes sense
to me. As the four-year drought intensifies, we just don’t have
the luxury of lush green lawns anymore. And people are watering
less— either on their own, or to comply with the new
restrictions. But I think Counties have a larger role to play in
making it even easier to comply.
There’s a perception that government is inefficient, that a
seemingly endless bureaucracy creates wasteful spending. Those
with that opinion obviously haven’t stopped by the Ventura County
Government Center, where a collaborative project among
departments is resulting in more efficient and effective services
for area residents at a time of increased demand.
The trip north on Highway 101 to the Humboldt County seat of
Eureka is a gorgeous drive. Towering redwoods and green ferns
line the meandering road. But for county residents who want to
attend a Board of Supervisors meeting to discuss the county
budget, that trip could be anything but relaxing.
In Alameda County’s unincorporated neighborhoods of Cherryland
and Ashland the crime and unemployment rates are higher than
anywhere else in the county. Along with those alarming statistics
run the side effects of poor health and various public safety
concerns. So it may be surprising to some that the conversation
has turned to urban farming.
Nineteen-year-old Mitch Blake squints through the hot afternoon
sunlight at a gnarled tree limb overhanging a creekside path and
pushes his hard hat higher on his forehead. He signals two
members of his crew to come over and they discuss whether they
should break out the chainsaw or not. After a few minutes they
decide that the limb doesn’t need to come down quite yet but they
note its location to check on it later in the year.
