At VAGARA conference, I get my annual reminder that these folks are heroes
VCOG is an education and advocacy agency. I get thanked for the work we do. I gladly accept it, and I appreciate that it’s appreciated.
But, I’m also quick to point out that the real heroes, the real heavy lifters, are the individuals who file FOIA requests and follow state and local public body meetings. They are the ones who go toe to toe with government officials who stand in the way of their efforts to hold their government accountable.
Often they’re going toe to toe with a FOIA officer. But often, it’s not really the FOIA officer they’re battling. It’s a higher up — an attorney, manager, administrator, chair, etc.
Because what I’ve learned over the years of doing training for FOIA officers and others involved in the FOIA process is that most FOIA officers want to (a) do the right thing, and (b) want to get that FOIA request off their desk and move on to the next.
If I occasionally forget that, I’m reminded anew each time I participate in the Virginia Association of Government Archives and Records Administrators’ annual conference. VAGARA caters to records managers, so most of the attendees are tasked with the management, archiving, and destruction of public records. But, as is quite common, especially in local government and school systems, the records manager is often also the FOIA officer or someone who otherwise handles FOIA requests.
I’ve done presentations at this conference in years past, and in some years, like this one, I have a table alongside the vendors and exhibitors to draw attention to VCOG’s work and services.
Conference organizers came up with a clever way to engage attendees and exhibitors: everyone gets a sheet of paper with every exhibitor’s logo in a grid. In turn, every exhibitor gets a little stamp they’ll use to place a mark in their spot on the grid. Fully stamped papers are entered into a drawing for a prize. The set-up forces attendees not just to pass by and grab a freebie but to stop and actually engage. No conversation, no stamp!
I meet people from all over the state. And one of the benefits of reading the papers every day for my newsletter is that it’s highly likely I’ve run across something that’s going on in their area. Oh, you’re from ____? Are you the one where the mayor’s gone off the rails? Or, where the school board and county are arguing over audits? Or, fill in the blank? They love that someone knows about their lives, and I love to get the real/back/more complete story.
What’s even better, though, is I get to hear their FOIA questions. And even better than that is that I get to hear about their approach to FOIA. Again and again, it comes through loud and clear. They are driven by public service. Doing their job, and placing the public front and center. They want to follow FOIA’s procedures. And when they can use exemptions to withhold or redact records, they often ask whether they actually need to.
Many of you will have heard me tell the story of a parent who contacted me with problems he’d been having with his local school district over FOIA requests for records about his kid. He told me of several messages he’d received from “Betty,” the FOIA officer and they were stiff and cramped, very much of the variety that makes clear you are (a) bothersome, (b) likely a troublemaker, and (c) not getting what you want.
The thing is, I knew “Betty.” I’d talked to her many times. Answered questions for her and listened to the challenges she was having here and there. So, I said to the guy, “Wow. That doesn’t sound like Betty.” Betty was usually friendly, helpful and dedicated to getting requesters as much as possible.
To the parent’s credit, he agreed. Completely. He said he could pinpoint the moment when he knew he wasn’t communicating with Betty any longer, even though her name appeared in the signature line. You see, Betty’s job as FOIA officer had been taken over by a higher-up, someone who didn’t like this particular request for whatever reason. Betty was being told what to say and do rather than exercising her own training, expertise, discretion, and even her own voice, to interact with the requester.
(Sounds a bit like what’s been alleged in the FOIA officer whistleblower lawsuit against the City of Richmond, right?)
It’s not every time, but year after year, FOIA officers and others whose everyday job is FOIA are the ones who make everything run smoothly. When things go sideways, it’s usually because someone else has thrown a wrench into the gears.
So, while I’ll gladly take the thanks offered to VCOG, I’ll keep redirecting that gratitude to the people on the front lines — the citizens who persist in asking questions and the FOIA officers who work to answer them with integrity. They’re the ones who keep transparency alive in Virginia, one request, one record, and one act of good faith at a time.