Parking Lot Conversation

This morning we had a meeting, the same as every Tuesday. Two Tribal members, relations of mine, came in to speak before Council regarding an employment matter at Spirit Mountain Casino. In hindsight, we probably should have gone into Executive Session, as names were thrown out, a hiring decision discussed. On thinking, I'm glad we didn't.
Our Tribal Vice-Chair left just as this discussion ended (Normally I avoid mentioning names, but since he is also Chair of SMGI and that is one reason why this matter got brought before us). A fellow Council member seated next to me leaned over and passed me a note, saying that he would probably wait outside for the two members and tell them who knows what, probably something I don't want to hear. I walked out to my pick-up during the ten minute break, and sure enough, as she predicted, there he was, bending their ears. If only I had Superman hearing.
In the big picture, or from the 30,000 feet view as a consultant told me years ago, I don't like to fret over this kind of stuff. That doesn't stop me from doing so, as this kind of activity is rampant and contributes greatly to the rumor mill and community wide misconceptions. Today it irritated me not so much because these were cousins of mine, but because I've been in this position long enough to know that probably little if anything will be done about the employment matter. But matters like this are jumped on and people are told something is being done, all because there are votes to be gained, and in an unpredictable election like this, two votes are worth a little time on the side schmoozing. I personally think this has more to do with why Council is so attentive to casino employment matters; with between 160 to 200 Tribal member employees, the vast majority voting age, there may not be a more accessible contingent of voters than SMC workers. There are votes to be had there.
My first year we had an audit done on our Tribe's Legal department by an outside consultant. Everyone on Council was interviewed. After my own interview, I sat with one of the consultants and shot the breeze. We both chuckled because I'd only been at this job for two months, and his firm had been hired right before I got elected. The organization was new to both of us.
"There seems to be a lot of parking lot conversations around here," is what he told me. I remember the phrase vividly, and even knew what he meant. My appreciation for that concept has only deepened with time. What he was saying, really, is that information gets passed around not always by memorandum or email, but conversations on the side, in the hallways, in parking lots, always off the record, and hard to trace back. With so little vital information in print, Tribal members go directly to the source, Tribal Council, and whether what they get told is truth or fiction will remain a mystery forever, or a few years. There are some of my co-workers, I believe, who like this system. Unwitting allies can get made.
Late last year at a Wednesday night meeting, a Tribal member form Portland stood up and made comments about our salary. That is hardly new, but what was unusual was that this person was a staunch and vocal supporter of the Council majority party. Yet here she was being unabashedly vocal in her criticism of us. The meeting ended with two Council members puzzled and hurriedly walking after this Tribal member as she left chambers. I could hear their conversation as I shuffled by "What's up with that? I gotta go talk to her." And much like this morning, who knows what was said or passed on.
I got my first real taste of the parking lot conversation theory early, at a Wednesday night meeting. But the one anecdote that stands out the most was later into my first year. A well-known employee was making what I thought was a reasonable request of Council. I was okay granting it, but for whatever reason getting buy-in form others wasn't so easy. He confronted me in my office later that day after learning the news, hoping to know what happened, or so I thought. Evidently he had already been given one version of the story. We didn't always make decisions in writing then, and the meetings weren't recorded. I explained to him what happened, i.e. who didn't support his idea. Angrily, he looked at me, breathing heavily, and said without hesitation "Yeah. Well, I heard you and Angie were the ones who were shooting this down."
He has never really trusted me since, even though I told him the truth. Say what you will about parking lot conversations, but in Grand Ronde they can have a bigger impact than anything said on the record.