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I've written close to a dozen stories about the Braddock Road project over the past months. I watched all eleven hours of Saturday's hearing, and I listened to it again on Monday. I have tried, every time, to hold to the standards I was taught journalism is supposed to meet: clear, concise, complete, and correct.
And I'll tell you what I've learned: it didn't matter. Even when what I wrote was factually correct, people on both sides told me I'd gotten it wrong — and a few told me I'd been bought. Supporters thought I'd given too much room to the opposition. Opponents thought I'd carried water for the city. I heard from both, often about the same story.
For a while that frustrated me. Now I think it might be the most honest thing I can tell you about this whole episode — because it isn't really about my coverage. It's about how deeply this half-mile of road divided the people who live along it.
People who live on the same block stood at the same microphone and asked the council for opposite things. Friends found themselves on different sides. By the end, both sides had come to believe they spoke for the real Alexandria.
I don't think either side was speaking in bad faith. The people who testified for the project want a street where a kid can bike to school without their parents holding their breath. The people who testified against it want to keep parking near an aging parent's door, or near a church their family has attended for years. Those aren't villains and heroes. Those are neighbors who love the same streets and weigh the same trade-offs differently.
Somewhere along the way, "supporter" and "opponent" hardened into something closer to teams — and the people on the other team started to look less like neighbors and more like adversaries. I'd like to believe that we can let that go, even if we don't let go of what we believe. You can think the council got it wrong and still wave to the person down the street who thinks they got it right.
Here is what I have to believe, because I don't know how a community works otherwise.
I have to believe we all want to live in a place that is safe for everyone — and that we can disagree, honestly and hard, about how to get there.
I have to believe the process worked: that people were heard, whether they spoke at the dais or walked the corridor with a council member, and that being heard matters even when the vote doesn't go your way.
And I have to believe that sometimes what is best for the whole community is not what is best for any one of us — and that accepting that, with grace, is part of the deal we make by living next to one another.
I know that for some of you, this didn't end the way you hoped, and that the disappointment is real. I'm not going to tell you it isn't.
The decision is made. The bike lanes, parking changes, and safety improvements are headed into design. But the neighbors are still neighbors. The neighborhood gatherings still happen. The kids still grow up here. That outlasts any 4-3 vote.
I'll keep covering this project as it moves forward, as fairly as I know how, with room for every side. Some of you will still think I got it wrong. That's all right. Keep telling me. It means you're still paying attention to the place you live — and so am I.
— Ryan Belmore, Publisher
The Alexandria Brief
Alexandria, Va., news and information you won't find anywhere else.
Publisher: Ryan Belmore, an Alexandria resident and journalist.
The Alexandria Brief has no ads, no paywall, and no corporate owner. Support this work with a monthly or annual subscription, or a one-time contribution.
Send feedback, story ideas, news, and tips to ryan@alexandriabrief.com.
