Let's Get Together

Among the many ideas that have evolved in the past few decades is the notion of a “gathering.” For centuries, it meant getting together in person, face to face. In the latter half of the 20th century, telephones and even video began to unite the globe for conversations (credit where due: the first such gathering by telephone actually took place in 1916 and involved more than 5,000 engineers in eight American cities). But there was nothing to rival the “virtual meeting” that became part of most people’s lives in the last quarter century, and an essential part of many people’s workday around the time of the COVID pandemic.

Everyone who has sat in on a virtual meeting — which, these days, is virtually everyone — can tell you why they’re not quite the same as an in-person gathering. A video chat with a doctor can be convenient for both sides, and it is essential during a time of illness, but it’s rarely much help in a complicated case, and it’s generally less satisfying for all. The same is true of work meetings, which lack the bonhomie of sharing a room, and the distance is often felt more keenly. It’s easy to be forgotten, lost or ignored in a virtual room.

Last week, protesters tracked down U.S. Representative Nick LaLota in Montauk, where he was helping to oversee the dredging of the navigable channel in the nearby harbor. In addition to general discontent, they voiced a specific complaint: LaLota has never held an in-person town hall gathering to discuss issues with his 1st District constituents.

The death of the town hall in the 1st District actually can be traced back to LaLota’s predecessor, Lee Zeldin. In fact, eight years ago this month, Riverhead Local reported on a nearly identical protest outside his district office on West Main Street in Riverhead. They wanted a town hall meeting; Zeldin had planned one in Southampton Village that April but abruptly canceled it over fears that it was to be “‘co-opted, renamed and rebranded by a group of liberal activists who were already holding strategy meetings to turn it into a disruptive show for their own political theater,’ Zeldin’s executive assistant Nicole Paciello told organizer Eileen Duffy in a Feb. 2 email,” Riverhead Local reported.

Rogers Memorial Library had hosted a question-and-answer opportunity with the congressman for years; his predecessor, Tim Bishop, was a regular attendee. Zeldin himself had attended one the previous February. But the April 2017 event at the library was nixed, and no similar event was ever held again during his tenure. His people blamed a protest at an earlier East Patchogue rally by Zeldin’s critics a month earlier, which they said was “hijacked” by people using reprehensible tactics to harass attendees at an event the congressman was at.” Police said there were no reports of any incidents.

From there, it became a cat-and-mouse game — Zeldin maintained that he was regularly meeting with constituents and hearing input, while protesters created a “Let’s Visit Lee Zeldin” social media presence to remind people of his sequestration. Any events for the rest of his term were well-coordinated, mostly by invitation only, with questions screened in advance.

Last week, the dynamic continued. LaLota has not, strictly speaking, held an in-person town hall gathering during his time in office, certainly not on the South Fork, though he regularly holds teleconferences and makes public appearances. After last week’s Montauk protests, he fired back, saying the protest leaders declined a face-to-face meeting in his district office. He made a point of announcing his next “town hall meeting” — which he says is his 21st since taking office — though the March 5 gathering would be a “telephone town hall” that could accommodate up to 10,000 constituents. As a coup de grace, on social media he released a photo with two women with whom he’d had an “impromptu meeting”: The pair “made it clear they didn’t vote for me and plan to vote against me again.” He said they shared a “respectful discussion, despite their differences; everyone in the photo wore smiles, a little pinched.

Why so much focus on in-person town hall gatherings anyway? Are they really of more value? Does not holding one really mean, by default, that an elected official isn’t listening to constituent feedback, or is aloof and unreachable?

An argument can be made that the telephone town hall events are more efficient, offer a greater outreach opportunity (you certainly couldn’t get 10,000 people into any local gym), and provide a nearly equal amount of access as a single microphone at a public hall. A raucous town hall event has energy, but it’s fair to suggest there’s more heat but less light, especially when people have come itching for a fight.

Still, representative government is just that: The people choose someone to represent them in Congress. That man or woman has a responsibility not just to show up and vote but to listen, to supporters and critics alike, and to communicate with them about the issues of the day. The tele town hall is imperfect but convenient, like a virtual meeting — but it doesn’t beat showing up in person.

We’d like to formally invite the congressman to do a live event, in the old-fashioned format, at Rogers Memorial Library or any other venue. The Express News Group would host, and, as with our many community engagement opportunities, we’d expect decorum from an audience that, like the district and the nation, has a lot of people with strong opinions, on all sides. You might hear some. But we have to stop being afraid to talk to each other in the eyes — and to listen. And there’s no better way than face to face.