The phrase “what if” embodies humanity’s most distinguishable trait: imagination.

All human progress started with, essentially, those two words:

“What if we rubbed these two sticks together?”

“What if we got into this boat and went that way?”

“What if we could make this widget smaller/faster/cheaper/virtual?

The authors of the US Constitution, knowing that those who would come after them would be endowed with the same remarkable capacity for imagination, made sure that future Americans would be just as able to ask that very human question: “What if?”

This “what if” guarantee is enshrined in the First Amendment, alongside the freedoms of religion, press, speech, and assembly:

Amendment I

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

That last right—the one to “petition the Government”—promises all Americans the inalienable human right to go to our elected leaders and say “the way that this is being done is not optimal” and “that should change.”

If an American sees problems (“grievances” in circa 1789 lingo), then as an American, you can “petition the Government,” which Americans have always taken to mean one of two things:

1. You try to make policy changes from the outside by sharing ideas with elected officials, e.g., calling your Senator in Washington, speaking up during public input at public meetings, protesting injustice in the public square; and/or
2. You try to make policy changes from the inside by serving in public office.

In 1789, 38-year-old James Madison gave future Americans a solemn promise: if you don’t like the way the Government is governing, you are endowed with the civil/human/inalienable right to speak up.

Last summer, I said spoke to (“petitioned”) four of our five Select Board members (“the Government”). I told them that I believed that 6.3% of Littletonians living in poverty was a grievance that needed redressing and the Select Board could change that.

When I suggested that Littleton’s publicly-elected, policy-making board change its policy around the award of public licenses, this “from-the-outside” policy idea was not taken up.

Why?

Why should a town—by policy—create a millionaires’ club (through handing out licenses to sell cannabis and alcohol) when it could—by policy—prioritize the awarding of those licenses to voluntarily benevolent businesses that help the impoverished local public (all the while not financially exploiting its workforce)?

What if that’s what happened?

While James Madison couldn’t know what ideas future Americans might come up with to solve American problems, he did ensure that those of us with an idea could be heard—either by going to our elected leaders or by running for elected office.

Poverty is an American problem that America might someday solve.

Littletonian poverty is a Littleton problem that we can solve right now.

My name will be on the May 11th ballot. I’m seeking a seat on the Select Board.

The abolition of poverty in Littleton is my goal and my objective.

If your values align with this goal and this objective, please vote to “redress the grievance” of systematic poverty with the confidence that I will work ceaseless on this great good deed.

Sincerely yours,

Jenna

Your single-issue candidate, hellbent on ending local poverty