The Trinidad Recreation Center in DC. Image created with Google Maps.

Recreation centers and schools are where a lot of important local government decisions are made — often decisions with real consequence. Next to street fairs and festivals, they’re also the most likely places where people can come together to talk about and talk to their government and representatives.

This is especially important for the many people who aren’t able to come testify at hearings or go to government offices in person. When local government comes to the people it represents, it’s most often in these very ordinary places that were designed for different purposes — gymnasiums, community rooms, and cafeterias.

Unfortunately, these rooms are often some of the worst-designed spaces for public dialogue. They’re caverns of hardwood or tile that reverberate even the quietest conversation. There are a number of times when I’ve been at a public forum or a community organization meeting where attempts to spur small group conversation devolve into trying to yell over the group next to you.

These spaces can drown out all but the loudest voices, which feels un-democratic.

Poor acoustics encourage public meetings to gravitate towards a model of one person (usually someone in a position of authority) talking to a large group, rather than smaller conversations of neighbors, networking, or working on details of specific projects and ideas.

People who are first-timers to public engagement events, or those who more introverted, are often alienated and discouraged from returning. If public meetings aren’t at least a pleasurable space to express your voice, we risk only accommodating those who have the most extreme or strongly-held views.

Food reviewers are increasingly paying more attention to sound levels in restaurants and how they contribute to or stymie a diner’s experience. Tom Sietsma at the Washington Post now includes a “sound check” review right below a restaurant’s star rating and the price, showing how much bad acoustics it can make or break a good night out. Why aren’t we holding our public spaces to a similar standard?

As the restaurant industry has learned, these considerations often aren’t made because they can be extremely expensive. Having a space professionally designed to dampen noise often requires professional consultants, expensive materials, and drastic reworking of spaces.

There are options the public sector has that are less budget-busting. Often, installing carpet into a community room can make a world of difference; if ANCs and neighborhood organizations are continually having to rely on spaces like school cafeterias to hold their meetings, a longer-term solution is to create spaces that are purpose-built for public meetings.

Accessibility and comfort in public discourse applies to the Deaf community as well. DC’s Office of Disability Rights is supposed to be able to help in providing ASL interpreters for public events, but they don’t have the budget to meaningfully fulfill that mission. And while advocates fought hard to get ANCs money for ASL interpretation, requests often require a few weeks of notice. This doesn’t allow deaf residents to attend spur-of-the-moment — or alternatively makes them feel obligated to go because there are interpreters at an event, even if circumstances change.

These are issues of accessibility in public discourse that DC and other governments in our region have barely even begun to address. Have you encountered similar issues? What do you think is the best space for public events we have?

David Meni works as a Research Analyst in the DC Council Committee on Human Services. He is also a volunteer writer and editor for 730DC, a daily local newsletter. As a graduate student at GW, he studied housing policy and welfare administration, and uses that background to advocate for a more inclusive and equitable DC. David lives in Park View.