The first lesson I learned about being a citizen wasn’t taught in a classroom. It was taught at Pasadena City Hall by a woman who didn’t seek to teach anything, but led by example. Her name was Nina Chomsky.
When I first began attending City Council meetings, I cared deeply about issues arising in Pasadena. I was passionate, but a novice at advocacy. I made big mistakes. At first, I suspect Nina rolled her eyes at me and assumed I was another passing voice who would come and go. But I stayed, and I learned, especially from her. Nina taught me that passion and preparation were not the same thing. She valued both and always came ready to argue her case.
As I began to understand what being prepared meant, I started reading staff reports closely, asking questions of staff and learning how decisions were actually made from beginning to end. Over time, Nina became more than someone I would simply see at City Hall. She became a mentor and a friend. We did not always agree or view every issue through the same political lens. But Nina taught me that disagreement didn’t have to keep people from working together for a city they both loved. This was our common bond.
She believed that being a resident of Pasadena came with responsibilities: to pay attention, learn the issues, and show up—even when the decisions at hand did not affect our own street or neighborhood. Caring about a city meant taking part in shaping its future. Her example has stayed with me, along with the question it raised: What do we, as citizens and leaders, owe the places we love?
Because I love my city and am always looking for solutions, I keep an eye out for thoughtful writing about cities. Lately, I have found myself reading essays by a diverse range of writers and publications, each approaching the subject from a different political perspective.
Some argue that cities thrive when government is ambitious and willing to invest in the public good. Others warn that cities decline when leaders tolerate disorder, ignore fiscal realities or pursue ideology without measuring results. Still others focus on the importance of beauty, history, civic institutions and a shared sense of belonging.
Indeed, these writers do not agree on everything. Together, though, they raise a question that Pasadena should be asking no matter what your political background: What makes a great city?
A great city is compassionate, but it also understands that compassion without safety and order can fail both the people who need help and the larger community.
A great city welcomes change, but it does not discard its history or allow development to erase the qualities that made the city special.
A great city invests in public services, but it also asks whether programs are working and whether taxpayers can sustain them.
It pays attention to evidence, measures results, and has the courage to change direction when a policy is not producing what was promised.
It is also a prosperous city—one that welcomes investment while protecting the qualities that made people want to live, work and visit there in the first place. None of those qualities can be sustained by good intentions alone.
A successful city needs businesses, jobs and a strong tax base. It also needs safe streets, beautiful public spaces, well-maintained neighborhoods, and confidence that City Hall can deliver basic services residents depend on. Those goals should not be treated as competing values or viewed through a political lens. Some crossover can occur between different priorities and approaches. For example, a city can invest in the public good while still keeping an eye on the local government’s budgetary limitations. In fact, these objectives depend on one another to achieve something great. In today’s divisive political landscape, it would be a relief to put politics aside and agree on these basic goals to build and maintain a great city.
Pasadena did not become Pasadena by accident. Previous generations and civic-minded people protected historic buildings, planted trees, created parks and libraries, supported churches and civic institutions, and built a city known around the world. Now we are making decisions that will permanently shape Pasadena for decades. For instance, we face major changes to housing and development. We are also confronting homelessness and looming questions about public safety. We are now being taxed to fund more services like the library and potentially our fire stations, all the while residents face their own financial pressures. Our city continually responds to state mandates that increasingly limit our local control over how our city grows. These decisions and issues require more than good intentions and compassion for fellow neighbors. They require clear goals, honest numbers, and a willingness to ask whether the policies we adopt will actually produce a viable, growing and historic city we love.
If stewardship sometimes requires respectfully challenging higher levels of government, like the state, do we have the courage to do it? And if change is inevitable, are we shaping it thoughtfully—or simply letting it happen to us?
Great cities need elected leaders and professional staff, but they also need citizens willing to participate. They need people who read the agendas, attend the meetings, ask difficult questions, and remain involved after the immediate controversy has passed. They need neighborhood associations, churches, schools, businesses and civic organizations that understand they have a role in the life of the city.
They also need people like Nina. After Nina died, Pasadena Star-News Public Editor Larry Wilson wrote beautifully about her life and her devotion to Pasadena. His words reminded me how many people quietly shape a city without ever holding elected office. Nina understood that city government was something to partake and help shape. It was a practice. She showed up, and she paid attention. She expected people to do their homework. She could be tough, but her toughness came from believing that Pasadena was worth the effort.
The city we inherited reflects the choices of people who came before us. The city we leave behind will reflect the choices we make now. It is our turn to show up, ask difficult questions, and care enough to help Pasadena become its very best. Great cities don’t happen by accident. They happen because, generation after generation, people decide their city is worth showing up for.
