Fine-tuning

To immense self-satisfaction, I have in the past few weeks and days basically optimized the state of my community involvement.

As folks who live in or work with Japan well know, April 1 marks the beginning of the year for many organizations. This is the case with two organizations in which I held positions for the past two years: The Ume Grove Association (which cares for our many local ume groves and puts on the festival celebrating them) and my neighborhood association (which, I remind my dear reader, is not like a U.S. HOA; it is optional, not unreasonably NIMBY in nature, and not a draconian vehicle of prescriptive policy such as requirements to use bland white vinyl fencing only, for example; and much more democratically representative of a geographic community than is a U.S. HOA, although it is not a complete representation due to the aforementioned opt-out-ability [catches breath]).

I was treasurer of the Ume Grove Assocation for two years. The man who had led it for many years, but yielded the reins to a successor (far too late) in 2022, was a friend of my late father in-law. He is a community leader who has made many laudable contributions. But he can also be overbearing and ham-fisted, and, most relevantly, unaware of the stifling effect these qualities have had on the organizations he has insisted on leading too long. He caught me in a moment of vulnerability back in 2022 and prevailed upon me to agree to serve as treasurer. He and I met at the local community center. It was all sweetness and lights. He explained how simple the role would be, and how my busy schedule would be no problem to work around—everyone would understand.

As I began to serve, it became clear that neither of those things was true. The seemingly small organization turned out to have some five bank accounts and required the preparation of three separate annual accounting reports. Also, which account should be the source to pay for a given expense—the main one, or the festival one, or the one meant to receive donations and route them to specific purposes—was never fully explained except in the context of having been done wrong by me. The accounting work became easier as I figured out the byzantine way it was desired to be done, but the aspects of banking (always in person due to the grandfathered-in legal standing of the organization, i.e. neither an individual nor a corporation; the president is legally responsible for everything) and disbursement of stipends to members who had performed work on the groves required me to be in places at times, which is my kryptonite personality- and work-wise.

The icing on the cake came at the general meeting of members following my first year of treasurering. In front of the entire organization, the very man who had hornswoggled me into taking on the role grilled me mercilessly about the minutiae of the reports I had just given. I was furious and embarrassed. I avoided him thereafter, and when I could not avoid him at an event a few months later I told him in essence that his behavior was bush league, and invited him to come at me next year because I now didn’t care. I meant it and still mean it, but I did do a fine reporting job this year, so with that and my confronting him, he did not grill me as hard at the general meeting that was held this past Sunday.

I want the association to thrive, but some hard realities are bearing down on it, chiefly the age of the many men and few women who do the physical work of tending to the groves. The goats would be a huge help, but I don’t have the energy or time to make them happen, and others seem unlikely to coordinate it. I did make what I felt was the minimum effort to push the idea forward: Through a city assemblyman friend I found a wonderful man in the city who owns many goats and lends them out to places requiring their services. I brought him to the Ume festival in March to meet the president of our association. I also introduced the goat man to (and gained the initial assent of) the key person inside the highway company, which owns the land that requires a goat presence. Happily, there are precedents for goat-based maintenance of highway-company lands. They can all take it from here. I am tapped out.

As of April, I also finished my term as neighborhood association vice president. This was a much more fulfilling role. I loved working alongside my neighbors to improve the community and put on the festivals that bind the community. It was similar to all roles, in that I did not want to go to any of the meetings in the few hours immediately preceding them, but after attending I always felt nice.

Today, the city hall department in charge of our neighborhood traffic safety measures called me to say their plans had been finalized. They wanted to meet and explain the measures as they have now been specifically planned and budgeted, to make sure they meet our needs and that the timing they have in mind will work for us. It is now natural for me to participate in the project going forward, having initiated it, despite not holding any position. I have inserted myself into the project that I most wanted to start by taking on the role, but now I don’t have to be in monthly meetings to do it. I love it when a plan comes together.

Now there are just two roles: Leader of the volunteer fire squad, and chair of Hachioji Ichou Festa. In the case of the latter, too, I have served notice that work is going to take precedence over committee meetings this year. Folks seem okay with that. The chairpersonship is mostly achievable via day-of attendance, with the exception of a few meetings, such as the one with the police—they need clarity as to who is responsible.

All this is to say that I don’t want to speak too soon, but I may have gotten myself into a proper balance of volunteer/community stuff versus work that pays for life and retirement.

The next task is constant vigilance against saying yes to anything ever again.