No uniform way to address local officials

Public comment is governed by mishmash of rules across region.

Have an opinion about the way your elected officials are conducting local business? How and when you’re able to give them a piece of your mind can depend on where you live and what body represents you.

A mishmash of public comment rules for government bodies across metro Atlanta means residents will find little consistency across jurisdictions when they try to address their elected leaders, according to a survey by The Atlanta Journal-Constitution of local rules in 60 cities and counties in the metro area.

Some jurisdictions let people

speak whenever they want, for as long as they want, while others strictly maintain time limits and topics that can be brought forward.

For years, current and former elected officials received unlimited time when speaking publicly before the Atlanta City Council. Regular people were limited to two minutes. In early December, the rules were changed, but they still heavily favor current and former elected leaders who presumably have other avenues to get their voices heard.

Former officials now receive six minutes to speak before the council, while current leaders get 10 minutes. Average people are still limited to two minutes.

“They’re telling us regular people and their opinions aren’t as important as public officials or former public officials,” said William Perry, founder of Georgia Ethics Watchdogs. “Just blanketly giving more time to people because they served in office is a slap in the face to the citizens of Atlanta.”

Vincent Fort, the former state senator who has been an outspoken critic of the council, including during public comment periods, called the restrictions counterproductive.

“Public comment of any variety is part of the job, and they ought to consider it as such,” he said. “These are not people who respect the First Amendment.”

In an era when most local governments stream their meetings on the internet and social media give average citizens the ability to have their own megaphone, many still view going directly before decision-makers to sound off as a fundamental right of self government.

In a city council chambers, one can be sure that the people in charge of policy hear any concerns.

Dexter Chambers, an Atlanta spokesman, said public comment lasted for nine hours at one November City Council meeting as people lined up to share their thoughts on the controversial deal to finance development of the Gulch.

There’s no state law controlling how local governments conduct their public comment periods, or even whether they have them at all. Indeed, some local jurisdictions don’t have official policies, or have recently enacted them for the first time.

Perry said he would like to see a state law requiring public bodies to have a comment period.

In Buford, the chairman of the local commission has invited public comment at the end of meetings for more than 20 years, city manager Bryan Kerlin said, but there’s no official, published policy about letting people speak.

Before Avondale Estates established a comment policy in July, it was “just a freefor-all,” city clerk Gina Hill said, with people speaking multiple times on the same item if they wanted to make sure their opinion registered.

“I think a lot of it depends on your mayor, or whoever runs the meeting,” Hill said. “They basically call the shots, and I think that’s how it should be.”

A number of local governments don’t limit the amount of time for public comment, but they have other peculiarities.

In Roswell, residents can respond to any item on the regular agenda. But if they have thoughts on something that isn’t explicitly on the agenda, they can’t address it until the fifth Monday of the month, when the city has what it calls an “open forum” meeting, for people to speak on anything that interests them.

That was the issue for a resident who was removed in August at a regular City Council meeting. He and many others were upset with Roswell’s plans to approve a massive tennis center, but when he tried to outline his position it ran afoul of the rules because the tennis center wasn’t on the agenda.

“I would very much appreciate it if you would learn how to behave yourselves in these chambers,” Mayor Lori Henry told the gathered crowd, who clapped for the man as he was escorted away from the podium.

In many jurisdictions, the council or commission allows three minutes per resident, but in Riverdale that time can be reduced when there are lot of people who want to talk. With only 15 minutes allotted for public comment in the city, a large crowd could severely limit the time for residents to speak.

In Cobb County, if you’re a political candidate or a county employee, you can’t speak at all.

And while plenty of jurisdictions don’t require advance sign-ups to speak, people in Sandy Springs, Fairburn, East Point and elsewhere must sign up to speak before the meeting starts or they won’t be permitted to address their local elected officials.

David Hudson, an attorney for the Georgia Press Association, said local governments are allowed to set time limits, require advance sign-ups or enforce standards limiting disruptive or vulgar comments. But he cautioned that to not allow comment at all would be a mistake.

“While there is no requirement to allow public comment, it would seem politically unwise for a governing body not to allow it and thus be subject to criticism that it is closed minded to the views of the citizenry,” he said.

Hudson added that allowing public comment “is just a matter of representative government and whether the elected members choose to be known as closed to citizen comments and questions.”

Perry said people often have to take time off from work, find a babysitter or make other sacrifices to go to a government meeting. When they take the time, he said, they should be rewarded by being heard.

“We definitely want to encourage people to participate in their government,” he said. “Rules like Atlanta’s and others’ discourage participation. When you’re limiting people’s ability to speak, you’re telling them they’re not important.”

AARON, Robert

Robert Aaron of Atlanta, Georgia died on December 26, 2018 the age of 66 from complications of a brain injury from a fall. He is survived by his wife Judith, his daughter Rachel, her husband Travis, and his grandson Nathan. He was a loving and supportive father, a beloved grandfather, and the dearest and best of companions to his wife. Rob was the son of R.T. and Sarah Frances Aaron, deceased, of Calhoun, Georgia.

He was an active member of the Atlanta musical community, singing with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chorus and Atlanta Symphony Chamber Chorus under the direction of Robert Shaw and as a staff singer for various Atlanta faith communities. His special joy was singing with the acclaimed Atlanta Singers from their debut in 1976 to April of 2016. He also sang with Atlanta Chamber Singers, another highly regarded local ensemble.

Rob will be much missed at St. Luke’s Episcopal, his church home for 40 years, where he served in the choir, as a member of the television crew, and as a member of the ringing band of St. Luke’s change ringing bells. He married his beloved wife, Judith, at St. Luke’s in 1981 in an innovative music-crammed service that was not only one of the first video-recorded weddings in Atlanta, but, at 90 minutes, also one of the longest.

Raised in Calhoun, Rob graduated from Emory University, earning both a BA with Honors in Political Science and a Masters in Library Science. He was an active member of the library community, working as a reference librarian at Georgia State University and the Atlanta Journal/Constitution before founding AaronSmith Associates, Inc, in 1981, an innovative research company specializing in the then arcane field of online research.

AaronSmith tackled a variety of unusual tasks, from supplying the factoids for CNN Headline News, producing analytical news coverage comparisons for such companies as Coca-Cola and UPS and producing fast-turnaround, in-depth research for the PR departments of Atlanta’s leading companies.

The company also participated in the early information economy with the sale of full-text database software that ran on a TRS-80 computer and the development of prototype online publishing, including a Georgia legislative news service and the first online offering of the Atlanta Journal Constitution movie reviews.

Rob also enjoyed teaching reference at the Clarke Atlanta University library school and later was a researcher at the local public radio station, WABE. At the time of his death, Rob was a reference librarian with Georgia Gwinnett College. Rob’s kindness and dependability enhanced every rehearsal and committee meeting. From too-well-worn stories shared with the “poker buddies” from Calhoun to the latest political insights, Rob cheered and entertained his fellow-travelers. His charm, wide-ranging intelligence, and elfin wit will be sorely missed by his friends and co-workers, but most of all by his family.

The funeral service will be at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, 435 Peachtree Street NE, Atlanta, Georgia 30308 on Wednesday, January 9th at 3pm. In lieu of flowers, contributions may be made to St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, memo: Rob Aaron Music Fund, or to the Training and Counseling Center, https://www.trainingandcounselingcenter.org/,

98 Currier Street NE, Atlanta, Georgia 30308.