I Just Resigned as a Republican Precinct Chair

I should have done so long ago.

I was a Precinct Chair for our local Republican Party.

For those unfamiliar with the position, that is the party representative for the smallest voting unit in your local area. Both parties have one.

And a few hours ago, I submitted my resignation.

Frankly, I should have ripped off this band-aid long ago.

Although we only met quarterly, I felt a sense of impending dread before each meeting.

Most people there were fake, if not outright hostile. After the swearing-in meeting, one longtime member even called my wife a Spick.

(I guess she took the swearing part too literally.)

Yet when I snuck into the Democratic Party meeting once to see how they ran things (I suspect they knew I wasn’t one), I never experienced any disrespect.

Actually, I was impressed that they had a pretty good game plan for their short and long-term goals.

Now, to be clear, I am no Democrat.

I am probably more fiscally conservative and a somewhat socially moderate independent.

But I can see where the county is headed if things do not change.

All the same, I stayed in because I felt that I had to honor my commitment.

Plus, I ran unopposed, so I didn’t have to spend any money on a campaign.

About that: Two years ago, I met with the prior precinct chairman. He told me that he was not going to run again after his term because he felt disgusted with the county party.

At the time, I thought he was being lazy and a quitter. I should have known better, as his involvement in other aspects of the community showed me he wasn’t either.

Now I see his wisdom and where he was coming from.

Meanwhile, I found myself gravitating toward another group that was younger and more action-oriented.

My wife and I had fun there, the people were friendly, and they laughed and smiled in their photos – not like those in the county party.

Not only that, they were organized. They even bothered to use spell check.

However, I justified remaining a precinct chair so I could inform them about the county party plans in the hope that maybe we could all come to a better understanding and work together on some shared concerns.

That didn’t work.

It only made me feel like a pariah in both groups.

If I’m going to be honest, I was also trying to make myself seem more important, too.

In reality, I was the local grand poohbah of the suffer club.

And it’s not as if I hadn’t tried to help.

I volunteered my weekends on campaigns, I knocked on doors, I posted on social media to boost event engagement, and I met with people, whether other chairs or regular voters.

I even tried to clean the party’s bylaws to at least remove the typos, if not the conflicts with the state laws and state party rules.

Everything was met with skepticism or cynicism. And it was completely unwarranted.

Not only did they do nothing - that would have involved doing something besides eating - but I often got criticized for something I wrote in Texas Scorecard. God forbid, I showed more than one side to a story, or I edit something out for brevity. Never mind that the other work I had written in the same publication was helpful or supportive of the cause or even the county party.

And their age isn’t necessarily the problem: it’s the overall attitude and mindset.

I joined my neighborhood association board, and while I’m the youngest male there, at least they are willing and open to new ideas that will attract new members and improve the neighborhood. Plus, their meetings are kind of fun.

More importantly. I can point to what they have accomplished: installing 20 neighborhood signs, trash clean-ups, repairing the bridges on the brook, installing new park benches, hosting neighborhood meetings and annual neighborhood nights out, candidate forums, and, hopefully, even curb address painting this year.

Not so much with the county party.

That’s why I thought about it; I deleted the title from social media and my bio, and submitted my resignation.

I am now the third precinct chair to leave this quarter. That’s faster than they have replaced us. And that is a telling sign of party leadership.

If they’re reading this, which I know they do, deep down, they know it’s true.

Though truthfully, I have more important things to worry about than what they think.

They don’t pay my bills (hell, they struggle to with fundraising), and I wouldn’t want to hang out with them, even if they paid me.

And, as I recently read somewhere, if you wouldn’t ask them for advice, then fuck their criticism.

Surprisingly, the activist group was supportive when I told them I had quit. I thought they would hate me, but they completely understood and even thanked me.

Another friend and chair said that by leaving, I was “letting the establishment people win.”

I replied, “Win at what?! They don’t do anything!”

“True,” he said, and laughed.

I told him he’s already doing great things and doesn’t need them either.

But anyway, why should I care? It’s no longer my problem.

Instead, I will focus on completing and leaving unfulfilling obligations to make more time for things that matter in life, whether my friends, family, health, or career.

Ultimately, I took on the role to contribute to the betterment of our county.

But you know what?

I can do that independently and find others who want to make a difference and appreciate me as much as I admire them. And we can get things done together.

I believe local politics should be about finding solutions to local problems.

If the group you belong to is not solving anything, then maybe it’s part of the problem.

Maybe it’s time for us to find another group, or better yet, form our own.

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