My oldest is 7. It'll be a while. That having been said, they attend the council meetings. We just attended one in November. The councilman lives on my block.
The kids weren't too happy to go, this last time, until I explained to them that it affected them, too. Specifically, the nearby park's playground and splashpark. The city spent over $1 million on repairs and upgrades, and the park is in terrible condition. I had the kids write out their questions, and told them who was in charge. The kids paid attention. When the director of public works and the parks super took questions, my kids raised their hands until called upon, then asked their questions. I didn't envy the officials in answering the questions. The parks super started stammering--particularly when my kids insisted that the playground equipment is still falling apart. The police chief actually had to ask the parks super if he was trying to intimidate my son. My daughter wanted to know about the holes in the climbing rock. The super insisted that the rock was solid. My daughter persisted that there were holes. The super finally admitted that the ”rock” was metal mesh with a coating, but insisted that the holes had been repaired. My daughter stood her ground, just a bit nervously. The super asked if anyone else had questions, and a lady said, ”no, the little girl is doing just fine.” My daughter made her point, and my son did well. When it was the turn of the chief of police, my son asked why it's OK for them to speed in our neighborhood. After the chief happily stated that all his officers were there and introduced them, my daughter asked what police officers do. The chief explained that they protect the citizens. Then my daughter asked who is protecting them now? The chief did not like that question, but I was proud of my kids.
Our council meetings draw about 20 people. Usually the same people. Meetings are every 6 months or so. My kids have been attending since they were born. Local politics are no different. The promises never match the results. The city never holds itself to the same standard that they hold you to.
Just today, I received a citation for ”improper trash storage”. It was mailed, of course. The code enforcement gestapo couldn't be bothered to ring the bell and speak with my wife. I had to call to find out that they were fussing about a box and some bags in my carport. The box was a delivery from FedEx (who also doesn't ring the bell), and the bags were rock salt. The excuse was that he couldn't read what the bags said, and that the box would decompose. I explained to the code enforcement super that this was another example of what was discussed in every council meeting: that his nonproductive jerks cite hardworking citizens for things out of ignorance. Unless, of course, they could tell me what is inside the box. So, court it is, again. We go through a super every year or so. They cited me when I replaced the brakes, when I replaced my front door, etc. Meanwhile, they have potholes that both my shoes would fit in, the sidewalks are falling apart, they failed to do their leaf pickup, and the trash trucks leave trails of trash wherever they go.
