While the city adjusts to the firing ousting resignation of mayoral chief of staff Michele Webber late yesterday, in a fiasco initially reported by ABC40, and now picked up by the Associated Press and spreading across the wires, I’m reflecting on an editorial in the latest Business West, and thinking about how infuriatingly lukewarm everything about Springfield feels right now.

Mayor Charles Ryan‘s response to the Webber issue, as reported by Mike Plaisance in today’s Republican, is to institute cultural sensitivity training for all city employees. Seeing as how this apparently wasn’t being done already, now seems like a good time to start. It should be standard. How disappointing that we sometimes learn these key lessons through colossal mistakes. There was some colossal mistake, wasn’t there? If only we could pinpoint it…

Are we resilient enough, as a city, to get through this and act as though the damage isn’t severe? I have my doubts. When people are demanding an apology from the mayor and referencing his track record in the 1960s, and the mayor is denying any factual knowledge of a problem, and some of the issues are years-old and mixed up with a ward representation lawsuit, and a former mayoral aide is quoted saying that the chief of staff isn’t racist, "she just hates people," by golly it’s hard to see our way through clearly. Thanks, opacity-producing media reports. (It’s often pointless to blame the media, but it’s such an easy scapegoat.)

A similar feeling of uncertainty surrounds the Business West editorial, which simultaneously supports the idea of Springfield as a central city to the region while it kicks it in the rear outlining how well the surrounding communities are faring economically.

It quotes Governor Deval Patrick on his recent visit to the area for an annual Chamber of Commerce event, who lukewarmly stated that he will not let Springfield fail on his watch, and by the way the Springfield Finance Control Board will be around for at least another year. "Helping the city ‘not fail’ is the absolute minimum that the Patrick administration can do for Springfield," the editorial states. Possibly true enough. I can imagine him doing less.

Don’t a lot of us basically get by on the absolute minimum we can "do for" Springfield? Since when was the city a charity case, anyway? (Wait, don’t answer that.) In some instances, wouldn’t the absolute minimum be even more than we’re actually engaged in doing? Do people in the region owe Springfield something? I’m not sure what to take away from this editorial. This paragraph is especially vexing:

But while it might seem that the region’s other cities and towns can flourish even while Springfield teeters on the brink of financial collapse, those who know better will tell you otherwise. Indeed, ask any bank president in the region, and he or she will say (usually after announcing they’re opening four new branches in a 10-block area) that this is essentially a no-growth area—with too many banks.

If "those who know better" are talking, they’re certainly not quoted in the editorial. Mayor Ryan is also quoted, from the same Chamber event, as repeating another little aphorism we’re apparently growing numb to:

This was another phrase (or words approximating it) that was thrown around at ‘Outlook’ by Patrick and others, including Springfield Mayor Charles Ryan. This is the ‘as Springfield goes, so goes the region’ argument, and while there is some easily accessible evidence to indicate that this is not entirely true, a healthier Springfield would do wonders for the region.

This sounds like saying, it would be nice, but it’s not necessarily all that important. After all, evidence to the contrary is easily accessible. And… wonders? Let’s just talk stability here, not wonders.

A city in the hole doesn’t do the region any favors. People in the region (as well as plenty in the city itself) seem angry at Springfield, over years of buildup, perhaps mixed with mild to severe feelings of guilt for leaving it in mind, body or soul. The idea of being flushed down the toilet along with the city makes both businesses and residents scamper away further, and rubbing it in only exacerbates the feeling of fleedom.

We perhaps need an approach to the regional discussion that acknowledges lukewarm or city-nausea feelings as real and understandable, but doesn’t dwell on them. Statements like, "Let’s not all go down the tubes together!" will not necessarily gain enthusiastic support.

At this point, actually, I’m not sure what statements will, which is why I cringe every time there are sweeping public comments about the current condition of the city. And yet the city needs champions. We just need them to sort of keep their heads down, and not be too flashy about their championing. Man, that is not an easy line to walk. Could that have something to do with why folks are not exactly lining up to be the next mayor?

In other lukewarm news, State Rep. Mary Rogeness of Longmeadow was on "The State We’re In" last week with Jim Madigan. In a brief portion of the interview discussing the control board, Rogeness said that she thinks a primary contributing factor to the board’s presence in the city was "the relationship" between then-Governor Mitt Romney and Mayor Ryan.

She goes on to describe her initial support of the board and how it was preferable to the appointment of a receiver, and Madigan lets her drop the issue about Romney and Ryan. I was left feeling so dissatisfied with the comment, which seemed to disregard all understanding of past complex municipal issues, that I could not bear to watch the rest of the interview, so I have no idea if Rogeness ever came back to the comment. It was not clear whether she indicated that "the relationship" between the governor and the mayor saved the city from a receiver, thereby keeping the mayor and city council intact, or whether she indicated that "the relationship" was so cool and remote (as Ryan has told me personally) that it plunged the city straight into state control without question, or whether she was implying that if "the relationship" had been better, perhaps a loan could have been granted instead (as Ryan was pursuing at one point), without the board part, that is. Water under the bridge? In a way, yes, but then, why mention it?

Sometimes it seems preferable to behave as a city automaton, without thought or feeling. Watch interviews and listen to speeches, catch news reports and read the inane selected quotations—but do not internalize, do not process, do not question. What’s the most appropriate response? Numbness? A vapid smile? All’s well; "Springfield will not fail" on our governor’s watch.