Atlanta Snow and the Need for a Bigger Table

by Michael K. Thompson

There is a certain irony in the "snowpocalypse" that infamously hit Atlanta just a couple of weeks ago. Atlanta is the transportation hub for the Southeast. Major highway and rail lines converge there. It’s home to one of the busiest airports in the world.

And yet, faced with barely an inch of snow, the region seemed helpless to provide consistent transportation access and service to those in the area. Something similar happened in 2011, yet the mayor declared in advance via Twitter: "Atlanta, we are ready for the snow."

The ensuing chaos unearthed valuable lessons for public life—and lesson for Christians around the country who want to seek the good of those around them.

Everyone has a story.

Some laughed. Others reached out sympathetically, saying, "Well, it's the South, and they don't have the same equipment as cities in the North."

That's true to a point, but it hardly touches on the chaos which ensued. About 1,000 accidents were reported in the midst of what the governor only briefly called an "unexpected" snowstorm, before he was corrected by the National Weather Service, who had issued a storm watch. Thousands of vehicles were trapped on highways or abandoned there overnight. Over 2,000 students were stuck at area schools overnight. Some children spent the entire night in buses stuck on the highway and were not picked up until six o’clock in the morning. Businesses and schools were shut down for the rest of the week so the vehicles could get cleaned up, not because of remaining ice.

Whatever the actual conditions of the South, one might expect leaders to have an appropriate plan for the South.

It's a leadership issue.

Unfortunately, the snowstorm merely exposed what Atlantans know to be ongoing challenges. Googling "Atlanta problems" turns up millions of results that speak of traffic problems and the brokenness of public policy to address a variety of needs, from schools, to energy, to the economy.

Atlanta is a 28 county region representing over 140 cities and towns, but lacks the kind of developed transportation authority that other major metropolitan areas have. It is not organized like the more tightly managed five boroughs of New York City, which have almost as many people as the entire state of Georgia. Heavy traffic on the highways is not unusual. A single accident may completely shut down a highway during rush hour. Atlanta’s "perimeter" highway system (akin to the D.C. "beltway") surrounds the city with a limited number of "spokes" and lacks the well-defined grid of many cities. And MARTA, the public transit system, is limited and not more visible.

But historically, these problems result from a fragmented social infrastructure which runs much deeper than an inch of snow. Some blame racism, and some blame party politics (the majority of Atlantans identify as Democrats, while most Georgians identify as Republican), but whatever the issues, we are unable to organize around solutions which would serve the public good. Though some whites in Georgia still use "Democrats" and other euphemisms in place of "blacks" to mask the internalized racism which still persists, even many well-meaning citizens who wish to leave racism in the past fail to see how government structures organized and still operate around these divisions from years ago.

We need to tell new stories.

While city leaders like to refer to Atlanta as the city that is "too busy to hate," I wonder if it has likewise been "too busy to heal." The proliferation of counties and cities and towns represents a kind of gerrymandering over time to preserve well-to-do, white, suburban neighborhoods so as not to be weighed down by poorer, black, urban neighborhoods. The most pervasive fear verbalized about mass transit is that crime would rise as "they" would find their way to "our" neighborhoods.

For example, after the recent announcement that the Atlanta Braves were moving their stadium from the center of the city to the suburbs, some asked whether public transportation would be put in place so that fans could gain better access to the stadium in its new location. But so far, local leaders are reticent. Some would rather focus on developing of roads and parking that cater to their suburban voter base. But this sidesteps opportunities for economic development which by any account would benefit all parties in the long run.

New York provides an interesting contrast. Transportation decisions are historically coupled, balancing the needs for rural highways with urban needs for public transit, because the system rises and falls together to the benefit or detriment of the state as a whole. Additionally, the Port Authority of NY/NJ was created to run independently of the politics of either state.

Certainly racism and party politics has not ceased to exist in New York! When David Patterson suddenly became New York's first black governor, there were plenty of backroom discussions among white men about what "those people" might do with power. Rockefeller drug laws and "stop and frisk" policies have made for good politics, even as they have taken a terrible toll on minority communities.

Yet, wherever common political ground may be found, progress can be made if we take time collectively to craft a new story.

New stories require a bigger table.

One of the most under-appreciated New Testament stories is the story of Antioch in Acts 11 and 13. In chapter 11, the recognition that increased interest in "the Way" among Gentiles made it impossible to be considered as just another Jewish sect. This is the first time (and only time) the term "Christians" or "little christs" is used to describe the new movement. Later in chapter 13, a number of new leaders are appointed with names representing a variety of peoples throughout the Mediterranean world. There was little pomp and circumstance involved; the early Christians simply acted in an manner congruent with their calling to be the Church.

The communion table can act as a core image for the Church as a whole. It’s a place of access to grace for anyone willing to come forward with humility. All are welcome to bring their offering and all will receive as they have need.

Whether we are talking about a boardroom table or a workshop table, similar principles apply. Leaders who represent a variety of the broken stories of the past need to be present in the room to have any hope of transforming those old, broken stories into new, healing ones for the future.

In some ways, these stories must be connected to have any strength. Yet individual stories will still retain distinct meaning for diverse communities. There is no contradiction. Unity loses significance without a robust diversity within it.

And we need to listen.

Ironically, as our diversity increases, we become more defensive, even divisive. Technology gives us unprecedented access to people all over the world, yet statistics show that we still tend to withdraw into groups of people just like us though over a wider geography. I’m a white suburbanite. I wonder: do we even realize that we have a distinct story with its own limits and blind spots? Do we just assume that our story is "neutral" or even assume that it is the story? Do we think that only ethnic minorities have a "special" story of their own? Do we understand that our fears stem from a desire to protect an exceptional way of life which may exist at the expense of others?

The deep political divisions in Georgia, and even nationally, are due to "zero sum" politics and a lack of vision for common solutions which will benefit everyone.

Ultimately, there will be change for Atlanta. The regional population approaches the halfway mark, compared with Georgia statewide. The votes will eventually be there. But if we cannot cooperate, what toll will be exacted on our stories (urban and rural, today’s and tomorrow’s)? Even now, New York politicians have threatened to de-couple the careful balances present in its historical urban/rural agreements. Both New York and New Jersey have adopted practices recently which threaten to undermine the independence of its transportation authority. It would be a shame for Atlanta municipalities to simply react and buy more snow equipment which would only provide limited benefit during the calendar year for a few suburban areas, rather than seek a comprehensive transportation plan for the region.

As Christians we are called to build bigger tables and listen attentively to a greater variety of stories. We are asked to span the gap for our neighbors. God can bring healing to our society, and the Church can play a transformative role. But not if we fail to attend to the communal and even mediative call at the heart of what we believe in the way we speak, act, and even vote. We are reconciled in Christ. May we live out that reconciliation in our public lives.

Michael K. Thompson is Director of Communications for Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. Previously, he was a senior manager with the Association Development Group in Albany, New York where he provided communications and management for a variety of national and statewide trade organizations including local highways and aviation. After graduating from Cornell University, Michael served with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship in the Hudson Valley area of New York for 12 years. He now lives with his family in Conyers, Georgia where he arrived safely without incident in the midst of a recent snowstorm.

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