Double Down

You begin, as so many do, with good intentions.

A calm, measured lecture about gentrification, density, and land use. Just a few points, you tell yourself. Just enough to correct the record.

But then something shifts.

The café falls silent. Patrons lean in, nodding gravely. Laptops swivel toward you as if recording minutes. Out of the corner of your eye, you see someone taking attendance.

And then — it happens.

A city councilor materializes at your side. Clipboard in hand. Glasses perched precariously on the edge of their nose. They smile a weary smile and announce, “Congratulations. You are now chair of the zoning committee.”

The café erupts into polite applause. Your protests are drowned out by the shuffling of folding chairs. A microphone appears. A screen flickers on, displaying PowerPoint slides you’ve never made: “Future Land Use Map: Draft #47.”

Before you can escape, you are deep in debate about setbacks, easements, and bike-lane widths. Hours blur into days. You age decades in the span of a single public comment period.

You have not ordered coffee. You have not eaten. But you have been handed the fate of Charlottesville’s neighborhoods.

And so it is written: you are no longer just a citizen.
You are the zoning committee.

Try Again?