Smiles for the Camera, Silence Behind the Scenes

An ongoing crisis of transparency and trust in Berkeley Heights
The work of our elected representatives is arguably difficult—and often thankless.
But lately, the endless parade of staged photo ops and plastered-on smiles pushed out by the Township feels increasingly out of sync with the outright hostility and dysfunction that rears its head during election season.
So what’s real—those smiles and hugs, or the ambition lurking underneath?
Honestly, I’m not sure anymore.
I want to believe adults can behave like adults. But let’s be honest: many can’t—and politicians are some of the worst offenders. They don’t just fail to rise above the fray; they don’t even try.
This kind of behavior has burned previous governing bodies in Berkeley Heights, yet here we are again. On the surface, it’s all kumbaya—sunflowers, smiles, and curated moments captured for the camera. But underneath this carefully constructed political theater is the real story, and it’s the one that matters most.
When those in power—especially the ones who champion transparency as their core value—begin ignoring the very people they represent, you have every right to question their motives. And when simple questions from taxpaying residents go unanswered for days, weeks, even months, that’s not just frustrating. It’s a warning sign.
On March 13, I emailed members of BHPS, the Board of Education, Town Council, the Mayor, and the Township Administrator about whether the GL Boys’ Tennis Team could use the courts at Columbia Park. Ms. Akiri responded, saying the decision was solely made by the Township. The Mayor also replied—recycling the same letter she published on TapINTO.
Two days later, on March 15—before #TennisGate and “the lease that broke the sound barrier”—I sent a follow-up email to the same group, asking whether they or the Recreation Department had explored quotes or guidance on installing turf in a designated area of Lower Columbia Park.
To this day, not a single council member or Township official has responded.
Well—aside from one elected representative who sent me a vague text, questioning my “anger, fear, and emotions.” For the record, I don’t apologize for caring. When kids get caught in the crossfire of political gamesmanship, that’s where I draw the line. You don’t mess with them. Ever. And if you can’t do the right thing for the right reasons, you better be ready to answer for it.
This was never about a lease—it was about how adults, elected to serve the public, allowed personal politics to disrupt kids’ lives.
And still, there’s been no public apology.
Not to the team.
Not to the coaches.
Not to the families.
That silence is telling—and disgraceful.
So when multiple Council members expressed confusion during the March 25 emergency meeting about why people were “so upset,” the answer couldn’t have been more obvious. Had questions been answered, had the process been transparent, this could have been a collaborative, community-supported project.
Instead, we got stonewalling.
And that kind of evasiveness doesn’t just erode trust—it suggests there’s something being hidden. And that should concern every resident of this town.