Preserving our legacy.

“Preserving our legacy.” It’s right there in the letter; the data center finally broke its silence.

I would really like to know what they believe our legacy is here in Washington County and Waterford, Ohio. I can’t help but wonder if they have been given an incomplete picture of what makes this community what it is. As a company from outside the United States, they may not fully understand the history, traditions, families, farms, and way of life that make up the legacy of this community.

This community and our family have been in limbo for 18 months. For 18 months, we’ve had a front-row seat to the dog and pony show while people make decisions about our property, our community, and now our legacy. Its like they don’t understand there are real people standing behind all of their powerpoints, plans and meetings.

I’ve learned a lot during this process. I’ve learned about people’s behaviors, their tells, and how far some will go to make their decisions look justified. The thing is, I hated these games in high school. I certainly never expected to still be watching them play out as an adult who has worked for everything we have, survived the unthinkable, and is now watching decisions being made that could affect my daughter’s inheritance.

As I listen and hear so many little stories come out in conversations, I’ve slowly started piecing things together. And honestly, I struggle to understand how some of these things happened.

At first, I thought maybe this was all a huge misunderstanding. I couldn’t understand how our local officials did not know the culture of this community. How could they not know that Waterford was never going to be excited about this?

Then I heard an older gentleman tell a story about when Duke Energy came into these hills. His view was different from mine, but his story made one thing very clear: this community has been fighting to protect farmland from industry for generations.

They knew what Waterford was. They knew it was an agricultural community. They knew what mattered here. Yet somewhere along the way, we were marketed to these companies as a gold mine for development.

And the frustrating part is, there are areas of this county where this type of industry may have made sense. Places where industry is already the norm and where a project like this may not have created the same conflict.

But at some point, I have to stop making excuses for the people making these decisions and accept that they knew what they were doing.

The unsettling part is I have had an official stand in my yard, visibly frustrated, telling me, “You can’t live here. Do you know what’s coming?”

Well… take a guess where I’m still living, along with the others.

Because we all feel that level of frustration residents have hunted for information about this project, not because they are trying to be deceitful, but because they are desperate to understand what they need to do to protect their futures. It really is an awful feeling.

And last week someone managed to find information and shared it so the rest of us can understand what is happening, you know the transparency that we all crave, then another statement comes out. Another decision is made. Another piece moves.

This weeks ACS letter was a perfect example. The PowerPoint presentation and website outlining some of the plans and company views about our community were published last week, and this week residents received a letter from our new neighbors through a public meeting disusing their views of our legacy.

It gave residents something to read, but it didn’t really answer the questions people have been asking. And that’s the frustrating part.

When information comes after the fact and doesn’t address the concerns residents have repeatedly raised, it can feel more like an effort to reassure people than an effort to truly inform them.

Another chess move. And honestly, we are tired of being the pons.

The frustrating part is that I’m getting pretty good at predicting when the next move is coming. Even though I would much rather be doing just about anything else.

Because of that sometimes, sitting through meetings where people pat themselves on the back feels like a slap in the face because we are all pons in someone else’s game.

Maybe I’m just wired a little differently. I tend to focus on fixing the problems in front of us and we have problems!

This week, during public comment, someone made a statement that stuck with me:

“Encourage others that are seeking the same goals to come forth to realize that somebody’s gotta step up to the plate.” I can’t express how much I agree.

I left that meeting and dropped off my husband’s voter registration. It took until he was 45, but he’s ready to walk into that voting booth, and my own contribution announcement will be coming sometime in the next year.

And there are people stepping up.

People are running who don’t necessarily fit the usual mold. People who see problems and believe we need to try something different, because we can’t keep doing the same thing over and over and expect a different result.

Maybe that’s part of what our community needs right now—not everyone thinking the same way, and not twisting our legacy into our community vs. whatever is coming.

And I’m begging everyone to look closely at the timing and circumstances surrounding announcements and decisions, because this is our lives—not a chess game that can be put on the shelf at the end of the night.

I know what it feels like to be put in a corner, waiting for someone’s decision about the future you worked for; I’ve been there for 18 months. And I’m asking people to look beyond the announcement itself and pay attention to how we got there —and how an entire community ended up cornered.