What happens when we choose conversation over assumptions?

The Conversation We Need More Of

Over the past several months, I've attended public meetings, reviewed public records, researched the proposed data centers, and written extensively about leadership, transparency, and governance in Montgomery County.

Along the way, I met Presiding Commissioner Ryan Poston at public meetings in Wellsville, Montgomery, and New Florence. At one of those meetings, emotions were running high, and I felt the conversation had become less about understanding and more about frustration. I remember speaking up and saying that while we all have the right to disagree passionately, we still owe one another respect.

That belief hasn't changed.

After Ryan commented on one of my Facebook posts saying he would be willing to sit down and talk, I followed up with him after the recent candidate forum. He gave me his email address, and we arranged to meet at the Montgomery City Public Library.

I expected to spend an hour talking about data centers.

Instead, we spent that hour talking about leadership, emergency services, education, technology, agriculture, public trust, and the future of Montgomery County.

Looking back, I don't think either of us approached the conversation trying to convince the other.

We simply walked away understanding each other a little better.

The Person Behind the Position

Before this process began, Ryan was simply "the Presiding Commissioner" to me.

During our conversation, he became something more than a title.

He talked about growing up in Montgomery County, remembering businesses, and even a movie theater, that no longer exists, and watching his community change over time. He shared that one of the reasons he first became interested in county government was because a bridge near his home needed repairs. He reached out looking for answers and eventually realized that if he wanted to help solve problems, he needed to become part of the process.

It struck me that his story wasn't really about a bridge.

It was about the kind of person who sees a problem and believes someone ought to do something about it.

He also spoke openly about the personal cost of leadership. He shared that this issue has strained friendships he's had since childhood and that, like many public controversies, it has affected those closest to him. It was clear that he doesn't separate criticism of his public role from the impact it can have on the people he cares about.

Whether someone supports these projects, opposes them, or remains undecided, I don't believe disagreement over public policy should become personal attacks, harassment, or intimidation. We can challenge decisions without forgetting the humanity of the people making them or the families who walk through those challenges with them.

Understanding Isn't Agreement

One of the moments that has stayed with me came during an unexpected part of our conversation.

I told Ryan that I've encouraged my own grandparents to sell their property if they have the opportunity. I want them to enjoy the fruits of a lifetime of hard work while they're still here to do it.

At the same time, I also told him I still have concerns about the proposed data centers.

He laughed.

Not because either position was unreasonable, but because those two ideas don't fit neatly into the categories people often create.

Too often, we assume every belief has to be all or nothing. If someone questions a project, they must oppose everything about it. If someone supports private property rights, they must support every development.

Life is rarely that simple.

My grandparents have every right to decide what to do with their property.

I can support that right while continuing to question whether these projects are the right long-term direction for Montgomery County.

Both ideas can exist at the same time.

Understanding someone's perspective doesn't require abandoning your own.

The Question That Stayed With Me

Throughout our conversation, Ryan returned several times to the fact that the county had met, and in some cases exceeded, the public meeting and notice requirements established by Missouri law.

I found myself returning to a different question.

Is that enough?

It wasn't a challenge to the law.

It was a question about trust.

Not enough to satisfy the law.

Enough to accomplish what we're actually trying to accomplish.

If our goal is simply legal compliance, perhaps the answer is yes.

But if our goal is helping citizens understand how decisions are made, why they're made, and how they can meaningfully participate in the process, I believe every community has room to improve.

At one point, I told Ryan that I don't think better communication would have caused everyone to agree.

I do think it could have helped people stand on firmer footing.

There's a difference between disagreement and misunderstanding.

One is a natural part of democracy.

The other often prevents meaningful dialogue before it even begins.

As I reflected on our conversation afterward, I realized my questions weren't really about whether a process existed.

They were about whether people understood the process well enough to have confidence in it.

Those aren't the same question.

Different Ways of Solving Problems

One of the things I appreciated most about our conversation was realizing that we often approached the same issues from different directions.

When I asked about emergency planning, Ryan explained how mutual aid agreements already allow ambulance districts to support one another when local resources are committed. It answered a question I genuinely had and reminded me that sometimes understanding the existing system changes the conversation.

Later, our conversation turned to water. Ryan grabbed a legal pad and began sketching a simple illustration of an aquifer to explain what he believed many people misunderstand about groundwater. As our conversation was finishing, I laughed and told him it might become the next image in one of my newsletters.

He smiled.

"It's pretty good for drawing it upside down."

Whether his explanation ultimately changes my perspective isn't really the point.

What mattered was that he took the time to explain how he was thinking, and I took the time to listen.

When we talked about education, Ryan focused on teacher recruitment through salary and resources. I shared that, in my experience as an educator, leadership, organizational culture, and opportunities for growth also play a significant role in whether talented people stay in a community.

We also talked about technology. Ryan shared that he appreciates technology when it helps solve real problems, using advances in agriculture as one example. I shared my perspective as an educator, that technology is a valuable tool, but one that requires thoughtful balance.

As the conversation continued, I noticed something.

Ryan often approached issues by asking,

"How do we solve this problem?"

I found myself approaching many of the same issues differently.

I kept asking,

"How do we build systems that help people understand, participate in, and trust how those problems are being solved?"

Neither approach is complete without the other.

Looking Beyond Assumptions

During our conversation, Ryan shared several examples of what he believes are common misconceptions he encounters when discussing the data centers with members of the community.

He wasn't asking me to change my mind.

He was explaining why he believes some public conversations begin without the full context behind the issues being discussed.

Whether someone ultimately agrees with his perspective or not, I thought those examples were worth exploring more closely.

After our meeting, I reviewed publicly available information, including census data Ryan referenced during our conversation, as well as Missouri law, agricultural data, groundwater resources, and other publicly available resources related to the topics we discussed.

Ryan's point wasn't that these issues are simple.

It was that they're often more complex than they first appear and that the examples he shared help provide additional context for understanding them.

I wanted to see how those examples aligned with the available information and whether that added context changed the conversation.

Water and Aquifers

One of the topics of discussion was centered on water.

Ryan shared that, in his experience, one of the most common misconceptions he encounters is how people picture groundwater and how they compare different types of water use.

He used center-pivot irrigation as an example. His point wasn't that agriculture and data centers are the same or that one justifies the other. Rather, he wanted to compare the projected water use of the proposed data centers with water use that already exists throughout Montgomery County to help put those projections into perspective.

As our conversation continued, the discussion became broader than water consumption alone. Ryan encouraged me to think about the long-term implications of water policy. If limits are placed on one type of water use, how might that affect existing irrigation systems, future agricultural operations, other industries, or future decisions about how water resources are regulated and managed?

That conversation encouraged me to look more closely at the available research.

I found that center-pivot irrigation systems can use a substantial amount of water depending on the crop being irrigated, weather conditions, soil conditions, and irrigation schedules. I also found that irrigation already represents a significant part of the county's existing water use.

Projected data center water use is measured differently and depends on factors such as cooling technology, weather conditions, and operational demands, making direct comparisons more complicated than simply placing one number beside another.

Looking at the available information helped me better understand the point Ryan was making. The comparison wasn't simply about gallons of water. It was about understanding current water use before deciding how future water use should be evaluated and what precedent those decisions might establish for other water users across the county.

That additional context didn't answer every question I still have about groundwater or long-term sustainability.

It did help me better understand why Ryan believes conversations about water should include both current and future uses, as well as the broader policy implications that could follow.

Understanding Scale

Ryan also encouraged me to think about scale.

During our conversation, he discussed Montgomery County's agricultural land, tillable acreage, and the percentage of land represented by the proposed developments. His point wasn't that local concerns don't matter. It was that percentages can provide another way of understanding the discussion.

Looking at publicly available agricultural and census information helped put that conversation into perspective.

County-wide statistics help explain scale.

Local experiences help explain impact.

Those ideas aren't in conflict.

A project can represent a relatively small percentage of the county's total land while still having a significant impact on neighboring property owners and nearby communities.

Looking at both perspectives helped me better understand why Ryan returned to this example during our conversation.

Clarifying Terms

Another topic Ryan brought up was the difference between zoning and property assessment. He shared that, in his experience, these terms are often used interchangeably during community discussions, even though they refer to two different processes.

Zoning determines how land may legally be used.

Property assessment determines how property is valued for taxation.

Although development discussions often involve both, they answer different questions and are governed by different processes.

Here, I found Ryan's example to be accurate. Understanding the distinction doesn't change anyone's opinion about the proposed projects, but it does help ensure we're discussing the same issues using the same terminology.

Trusting the Process

One observation stayed with me throughout our conversation.

Whether we were talking about groundwater, emergency planning, infrastructure, or economic development, Ryan consistently referred to the engineers, attorneys, consultants, hydrologists, and other professionals involved throughout the process.

As we talked, I came away with the impression that Ryan has confidence in the professionals who advised the county and in the process that guided those decisions.

He also shared that community members had been given an opportunity to bring forward an independent expert to review the information that had been presented. From his perspective, that opportunity was an important part of the process.

That detail stood out to me because it reinforced a theme I noticed throughout our discussion. Ryan's confidence in the process appeared to be rooted in his confidence in the people and systems involved.

It also brought me back to a question I continue to think about.

How do we help the broader community understand those same processes well enough to have confidence in them, too?

My question isn't whether experts participated.

From everything I've reviewed, they did.

My question is whether the broader community understood enough about the process to trust it.

Those aren't the same question.

One asks whether a process existed.

The other asks whether people understood the process well enough to have confidence in it.

I think both questions are worth considering.

Did the Context Change the Conversation?

As I worked through each of these topics, I kept coming back to the same question.

Did understanding the additional context change my overall position?

No.

Did it change the conversation?

I believe it did.

The examples Ryan shared weren't intended to prove that everyone should support the proposed data centers.

They were intended to provide context for issues he believes are often misunderstood.

I found that many of those examples did help explain the complexity behind the topics we discussed. They didn't answer every question, and they didn't remove my own concerns.

What they did do was help me better understand Ryan's perspective and the thought process behind the decisions he has supported. Even where I continue to disagree, I came away believing those decisions were made thoughtfully and with careful consideration.

That doesn't mean I've changed my overall position on the proposed data centers.

It does mean I have a greater appreciation for how Ryan arrived at his conclusions.

To me, that's the value of taking the time to look beyond our initial assumptions.

Not because it eliminates disagreement.

Because it helps us better understand the people, the information, and the reasoning behind the decisions being made.

The Value of Showing Up

As I've reflected on our conversation, one thought continues to stand out to me.

One of the things I genuinely appreciated was that this conversation happened at all.

Ryan didn't have to read my articles.

He didn't have to comment on one of them and offer to meet.

He didn't have to spend an hour answering my questions.

Yet he did.

He also left the door open to continue the conversation in the future.

Throughout our conversation, it became obvious how connected he is to Montgomery County. He spoke naturally about people, organizations, businesses, and communities because those relationships have been built over many years of living and serving here.

As I've thought about that since our meeting, I find myself hoping he continues doing something I believe is incredibly important.

Showing up.

Attending community meetings.

Being willing to sit down with people who see things differently.

I don't believe that expectation should rest on one commissioner alone.

It should be something we expect from every public leader.

Likewise, I believe citizens have a responsibility to ask thoughtful questions, listen carefully, remain open to learning, and engage respectfully, even when we continue to disagree.

Healthy communities are built through conversations like these, not because they eliminate disagreement, but because they help us better understand one another.

Agreeing to Disagree

As our conversation came to a close, one phrase surfaced more than once.

"We'll have to agree to disagree."

For many people, that's where the conversation ends.

I left believing it might be where the most meaningful conversations begin.

This conversation didn't change my overall position on the data center projects.

It also didn't change Ryan's.

What it changed was my understanding.

I left with a better understanding of Ryan's perspective, the experiences that shaped his thinking, and the thought process behind the decisions he has supported.

I also came away believing those decisions were made thoughtfully and with careful consideration, even where I continue to disagree with some of the conclusions.

That doesn't mean I've changed my overall position.

It does mean I have a greater appreciation for how Ryan arrived at his.

Throughout this process, I've written extensively about transparency, accountability, and public trust.

After spending an hour talking with Ryan, I don't think those values changed at all.

If anything, they became even more important.

Transparency isn't only about making information available.

It's also about helping people understand the information, the process, and the reasoning behind decisions.

Public trust isn't built simply because experts are involved or because legal requirements have been met.

It's strengthened when people understand how decisions are made and have opportunities to ask questions, seek clarification, and participate in meaningful conversations.

I still believe public officials should continue engaging with the people they serve.

I also believe citizens should continue asking thoughtful questions, seeking reliable information, and remaining willing to examine their own assumptions.

Understanding another person's perspective doesn't require abandoning your own.

Sometimes it simply means leaving the conversation with a fuller understanding than you had when you walked in.

Healthy communities aren't built because everyone reaches the same conclusion.

They're built because people continue talking after they realize they won't.

Perhaps that's one of the most important things we can do for Montgomery County.

Not eliminate disagreement.

Learn how to disagree without losing one another.

In solidarity,

Lyndsay LaBrier
Merchant Ship Collective

References

This article is a personal reflection based on the author's experiences, observations, and conversation with Presiding Commissioner Ryan Poston.

Additional context was informed by publicly available information, including:

• U.S. Census data

• USDA Census of Agriculture

• Missouri Department of Natural Resources

• U.S. Geological Survey groundwater resources

• Missouri Revised Statutes

• Montgomery County public records

• Greater Montgomery County Port Authority bylaws and meeting records

Editor's Note

Artificial intelligence was used to assist with organization, editing, and refinement. Public records and other source materials were also used to verify factual information discussed in this article. The experiences, opinions, analysis, and final content reflect the author's own work.