'Why I'm leaving politics...'

With this post, I explain why I'm leaving politics to the pols and the trolls. My attention is focused on continuing to be the leader I've proved myself as since 2019.

I’ll never forget a piece of invaluable advice I received in the early years of my career.

“You have to know when you’ve won.”

The information came from a close friend, a former divorce attorney who advised me that my desire to destroy the co-worker who was working behind the scenes to sabotage my new position was, at best, counterproductive.

“You have the job she wanted. You’re doing a better job than she ever could have. You’ve already won.”

I've already won.

I confess that, after hearing of her nonstop backstabbing, I wanted to see the co-worker suffer. Yes, I have a vengeful streak, but more than anything, I have a sincere, unquenchable hatred for the actions of those who seek to harm, or take something of value—including someone's reputation—unnecessarily or undeservedly. It’s why my favorite line from Machiavelli’s The Prince speaks of men taking something they do not rightly own.

“But above all he must refrain from seizing the property of others, because a man is quicker to forget the death of his father than the loss of his patrimony.”

I read this line in college, highlighting it in the book I still own and returning to it several times a year, even to this day. I’ve thought about it a lot over the last three years, especially as it relates to the minefield that politics, even local politics, has become.

A new, scary day

In March of 2019, I sat across the table from the person who would ultimately become the strategist for my run for Southlake City Council. She talked to me about extending an olive branch for people who might not vote for me but who would likely be willing to work with me once I was elected; I said the words that day that have become more true with every passing day.

“The middle ground is scorched earth,” I said. “There is no middle ground.”

I was making reference to the frequent conversations I was having with people on both sides of political aisle, and there was little agreement:

• Those on the right wanted to know I wasn’t “one of those people,” a liberal, or worse, a RINO.

• Those on the left had read my “Yes, Southlake is a bubble — a bubble of commitment to family” article and were incensed that I was “aiding and abetting racists,” as one parent told me, so they wanted to know why they should vote for a “black conservative who obviously has forgotten where he came from.”

This was my foray into politics in 2019; it wouldn’t get any easier. And, to be frank, I didn’t work to make it any easier. I was steadfast in saying—with everyone I met, including to this very day—”If you want someone to do your bidding, I’m not your guy."

"If you want a consensus seeker, I am certainly not your guy. I am who I am, and I like this me.”

However, that does not mean the last three years have been easy. In fact, politics, even—or especially—local politics, has gotten more vitriolic over the last few years, a fact made clear in a recent study by the National League of Cities, which found that local leaders are experiencing increased levels of harassment, threats and violence.

I won’t be wallowing with pigs—er, trolls—any longer on social media or elsewhere.

Most of the attacks amount to harassment on social media, but the vitriol is not limited to the local elected official; often family members, including spouses, are needlessly dragged into the fray as malcontents continue to prove that there are no bounds to their loud, public, nasty attacks.

I’ve seen this firsthand: disagreement become disagreeableness, which begets discontent. Add the gasoline of social media and you have a five-alarm blaze. Going forward, however, such blazes will have one fewer participant: me.

Ronell, the councilman, elected official will no longer play the respond-to-trolls game.

Instead, I’m going to singularly focus on what matters to me as an elected official:

• Bringing to fruition a best-in-class library and performing arts center

• Continuing to support Southlake’s small businesses

• Supporting our kids in their academic and athletic pursuits

Why I'm leaving politics and what it means?

This shift is less a change and more of a rule. I seldom engaged with the back and forth with trolls and discontents on social media, but when I did, it felt like stooping to their level, akin to wallowing in mud with pigs.

After all, I’ve already won. I’m the man in the arena doing the work.

Most important, I’m planning to use the next 1,000 days of my tenure as councilman to do what I was elected to do, be a facilitator, help where I’m needed, make a lasting impact the same as I did the previous 1,000-plus days.

What it does not mean, however, is that I won’t share my opinion on topics that pique my interest.

I’m too opinionated and stubborn to be silent. But rather than use my council social media account and blog for sharing my thoughts, opinions, and ideas for anything other than the big three above, I’ll use my newsletter, which is where I will most certainly indulge the urge to go down the rabbit hole of my choosing. Frequently.

So, this isn’t a goodbye; it’s a refocusing. I'm leaving politics to the pols and trolls.