Noise deaf
One of my kids had a kindergarten teacher from whom I learned a valuable life lesson: Just because you’re louder than the rest doesn’t mean you’ll drown out the other noise.
She didn’t tell me that in so many words. I learned it by watching her wrangle a classroom full of energized kindergartners. If the mob mentality exists anywhere, it’s in a classroom. Bad behavior breeds more bad behavior. Noise generates more noise.
It was a party day, and the kids were really wound up. I mean registering at 11 on a scale of 1 to 10. The teacher, a very petite and sweet woman, started talking to the class quietly. She wasn’t yelling to be heard over the chaos. She just kept talking quietly about the need to settle down. Students started noticing and quieted down to hear what she had to say. Within minutes, she had control of the situation.
I was impressed. So much so that I had to really think about not only how it worked, but why.
The kids were noise deaf. They couldn’t hear anything but the noise – until the quiet got their attention.
In this day and age of keyboard warriors and being contrary just to be noticed, it’s no wonder lawmakers could easily tune out. Wouldn’t you? Day after day taking the berating online, over the phone, via email. The relentless noise. It would have to be a turnoff.
This issue features a group of lawmakers who have been reached through all of that chaos. Lawmakers who get the plight of truckers. Lawmakers who understand the realistic implications of proposed policies.
How did they get there? I promise you it wasn’t because someone went full throttle at them and changed their mind with social media ranting and memes. It was quiet, thoughtful conversation and communication that cut through the noise.
Page 14 features the result of truckers investing that time to have meaningful conversations with lawmakers. There was a congressional hearing of the Highways and Transit Subcommittee in December. It was a banner day for truckers. Here we had a number of lawmakers highlighting obstacles drivers face and calling on agency administrators to answer for them. You have to check it out.
We also have other examples of truckers getting their points across and momentum picking up on the truck parking front. Pages 29 and 40 both highlight this progress. As with most progress, it never feels like enough in the moment. But the tide has turned, and as those thoughtful conversations with concrete examples of shortages take place with lawmakers, the odds grow that the truck parking bill will pass. Go to FightingForTruckers.com to start (or hopefully continue) that conversation with your lawmakers.
The final meeting of the Women of Trucking Advisory Board included some very thoughtful conversation, as well. Coverage of that starts on Page 42. It’s always a touchy subject when one group gets singled out with the focus of “opening doors.” But the members of this committee recognized that improving working conditions and treatment ultimately helps all drivers. Bathroom access for women and men? Yes, please. Fair compensation for women and men? Of course! More truck parking? Women and men both have to park.
All of these things are a form of advocacy. Of not being content with the status quo and of everyone doing his or her small part to move the mountains.
The February issue always features our how-to advocacy guide. We called it the Political Playbook this year. (Yes, we have a lot of sports fans around here.) Starting on Page 44 and running through Page 50, we give you the game plan and tools you need to be part of the education of lawmakers instead of contributing to the chaotic noise.
Being the calm, thoughtful advocate in the chaos of the political storm that lawmakers face daily will inevitably be a welcome relief. And what begins as a refuge may become something so much bigger in the end, with a powerful ally touting your reality in hearings and championing bills. Doubt me? Go back to Page 14 and read it again. LL