I had an entire year’s worth of topics laid out for this blog but things change. Like this week’s topic. Recent events prompted me to yet again shake my head.

My name is Jessica Manuell. I’m just a small town girl and yes, the world at times is lonely. It got even more lonely when the title Commissioner was added behind my name.

Adding a title to a name sure brings out the haters. They turn their cranial cavities inside out the moment you have more authority than they do.

A person doesn’t go to school to be a commissioner.  There’s no collegiate degree program. Who commits to memory every single statute, title, amendment, reference, proclamation and so on before being appointed to or elected to a seat? Absolutely no one. No commissioner. No elected official. No one. I am not ignorant though. I’m far from it actually.

Why do you think each agency or entity has a legal team? Legal interpretation.  Not my interpretation. And definitely not your opinion.

I have no knowledge of who does or doesn’t put in the time. I only know my personal efforts.

Believe it or not, I’ve actualy read all the statutes, rules and regulations. Multiple times. And yet, I still need to call the legal team or open the books and reference them. I do have a life outside of this volunteer position that meets just less than once a month.

You heard that right.

Being an Arizona Game and Fish Commissioner is an unpaid, volunteer position. I do not spend 40 hours a week doing this, but usually hit 10 or more. 20 during hell week.

What I do have is a vested interest in how our wildlife is managed. A passion for making the best decisions for all wildlife and all Arizonans regardless of how they feel about me, hunting, wildlife, the government and so on.

So why bother making space for this here? Because against my own better judgement, I took Aladdin’s hand and stepped on that flying carpet believing in a potential for logical conversation last night. And I deny my inevitable disappointment while remaining hopeful and jaded on a 50/50 split.

Every state has their own set of laws governing how wildlife can be hunted, trapped, pursued and taken. Every year, the same questions arise with regards to those methods of take. And some people who don’t agree with the legal methods of take hide behind fake profile names on social media encouraging others to bend or break the laws and regulations based on an opinion or self-serving interpretation.

Some of those folks are just mad because it’s who they are. Others are mad because they’ve received their own citations in the past and feel wronged because their interpretation was different than what the rule or regulation stated. 

A handful want to see a rule changed or amended for the better. Unwritten rule or hand shakes don’t supersede written law. Lack of enforcement be damned.

Heck, there are rules and regulations that I would prefer be changed or amended. Remember. I’m a human just like you.

And I use my real name and photo.

The arctic plunge into politics.

Interviews. Background checks. Lunches. IHOP.  Fingerprints. (This one cracks me up as I am printed to conceal carry and printed to teach hunter education). And hate mail.

When this journey started last November, I was given an opportunity to get a brief overview before any final legislative appointment was made. That overview was four hours of straight information download that would need to sit in my brain and file itself over time. Luckily I received my first three-ring binder and a list of phone numbers and email addresses if I had any questions.

I started receiving briefs (within legal boundaries) on important topics that would face me as my term began. And I started to learn the background on how these decisions were being made. I attended meetings in person as a member of the general public in case the nod would come while in attendance.

I met with senators on both sides of the isle. I updated my wardrobe. I invested in higher quality mascara. Had a long overdue eye exam and prescription update to keep up with the amount of reading ahead.

I kept my family in upheaval and uncertainty for when the first day of mandatory Morgan-sitting would be needed. I phoned a friend.

The nod came on a Wednesday just after 3:00pm. The meeting two days later was in Sierra Vista 352 miles from home. I was at Headquarters with Morgan by 9:15 Thursday morning for a two hour legal crash course. Dropped off Morgan with said friend east of Casa Grande, and made it to dinner by 5:45pm in Sierra Vista. My phone was connected to one person or another the entire drive. The full three inch, three-ring binder in my book bag. I was seated shortly after 8:00am Friday.

Getting into meeting groove is a little easier 6 months later.

Usually the Friday before the meeting, FedEx delivers a minimum of one three-ring binder with materials for the meeting the following Friday. Sometimes, that binder shows up on Saturday, or Monday… the joys of rural living.

It’s called hell week for a reason.

It’s a lot to read. Every presentation. Every proposal. Complete case files on every revocation. A phone call or two with each presenter. Phone calls from constituents. Department staff. Zoom meetings. More hate mail.

And then there’s feeding my family. My dogs. My chickens. Cleaning the house. Doing the laundry. Dishes. Appointments. School. Being a wife. Working. Sleep.

I am not a fan of revocations but it is part of the duty of a commissioner. I am also not the judge. The people standing before us have already seen a judge. We’ve already seen every citation, charge, plea, deal, fine and so on. We know the license and bonus point history, videos and photos logged, affidavits, case texts and summaries. We see how many department hours have been dedicated to that case alone. How the person treated the officer(s).

In most cases it is a horrible feeling taking someone’s license away. Sometimes, 5 years isn’t enough. 100 years wouldn’t be enough. But that is my opinion only and not the legal confines in which I am allowed to make decisions in. 

I don’t just get to do or say what I want as a commissioner.  I take every decision I make seriously. And some days are heavier than others. Every decision affects over 800 species of wildlife, over 650 employee livelihoods, and every Arizona citizen and visitor.

The curious actions of haters.

I’ve had shade thrown my way my entire life. Good at sports. Good at my 4H and FFA projects. Good at playing music and singing. Good at racing drag boats. Good at writing. Good at rescuing and keeping baby birds alive. Getting good at filling a tag, being a mom, and probably some other things I am forgetting. But do you how I got good at all of that? Time. Practice. Determination. Failure.

With some people, you just can’t win. I could say or write the exact same thing a hater says and they would still find a way to attempt to degrade me or anyone else. So, when Mr. Anonymous shares memes, screen shots, slanders, twists words and is generally uncouth publically, just know it fuels the fire for me to keep making the right decisions for them as someone who is capable of doing so.

A conversation this morning reminded me why I am here. And it’s because I am in fact, capable.

Am I going to get it right every time? Nope. But I’ll keep showing up anyway until I do.

Will I agree with everyone on a decision that has to be made? A lot of the time yes, but not always.

Are there going to be constituents who hate me for the entire duration of my term? Absolutely. They too, have the opportunity to become an commissioner as a new one is appointed annually.

Will the position frustrate me? Definitely.  But there’s a lot of good things that come with it including building new friendships that I didn’t know I needed and learning something new every month.

I used to have more faith in people. I lost it along the way but never gave up the desire to do things right and help those who appreciate it.

Here’s where the shift in perspective comes in.

As a commissioner, I can’t just set aside people I don’t like because these decisions are for them too. I have a job to do. I have rules to follow. I have decisions to make. And those decisions I make as a commissioner do not affect just me. They affect every single person and species in this state.

Sure. I have my own thoughts and ideas. I have my own wants and desires. I have the ability to take action as my own person outside my duties as commissioner.

But the official decisions force me to consider the facts scientifically, socially and politically. There are no quick fixes. And those decisions need to benefit more than you or I in this moment. They must provide direction for the future and sustainability of wildlife conservation.

I’ll be adding a new shelf to the home office to hold the materials and references being accrued that will help me bring the best to my position.

And I’ll remain hopeful/jaded, but maybe more like 75/25 respectively. I welcome constructive dialog and you all know where to find my email. I do prefer physical confrontation over keyboard gymnastics though so let’s grab coffee.

And I have thoroughly enjoyed those who have reached out.

Love me or hate me, I’ll be here until early 2031. And keep sending the hate mail and making mean girl social media posts. It warms my heart.