 Welcome to this forum on racial justice in Vermont brought to you by the Worthen Library in South Euro. I'm Karen Ames and I'll be co-facilitating with Worthen librarian Keegan Coggins. Participants you will remain muted throughout the program but we invite you to ask questions for the panelists using the chat feature and you can find the chat feature if you hover over the bottom of your screen and click on the icon that has a talk bubble in the word underneath it. We will begin with a forum for our panelists to share their perspectives then move to a question and answer period. We will close with a final comment from each panelist and a link to further resources. This program may also be recorded and available for later viewing on the Worthen librarian website. So let's get started introducing you to our panelists. Jason Broughton was appointed by Governor Phil Scott as Vermont's state librarian and commissioner of libraries. Broad knowledge follows him. He has been assistant state librarian for librarian advancement and served as the interim state librarian in Vermont and previously a workforce development trainer and outreach coordinator at the South Carolina State Library. He has also been director of library support services assistant director of public service and interim library director at the Live Oaks Public Library in Savannah Georgia. Prior to that he spent over a decade as an educator. He supports the mission and vision of libraries as cultural and informational institutions that promote literacy lifelong learning and access for all. Jason Broughton is Vermont's first African-American state librarian. Lastly he serves as chair of the Vermont Complete Count Committee for the 2020 Decennial Census for Vermont. Personally he enjoys life cooking and baking and conversations that lead to understanding the human experience. Welcome Jason. Thank you for having me. Dr. Emily Bernard is the Julian Lindsay Green and Gold Professor of English at the University of Vermont. She holds a BA and a PhD in American studies from Yale University. Dr. Bernard has received fellowships from the Alphonse A. Fletcher Foundation, the Ford Foundation, the National Endowment for the Humanities, the McDowell Colony, the Vermont Arts Council, and the W.E.B. Du Bois Institute at Harvard University. Her first book, Remember Me to Harlem, The Letters of Langston Hughes and Carl Van Bekton, was a New York Times notable book of the year. Dr. Bernard's work has appeared in Harper's O Magazine, Oxford American, the Yale Review, the New Republic, and the American Scholar. Her most recent book, Black is the Body, Stories for My Grandmother's Time, My Mother's Time and Mine, was published by Alfred A. Nomf in the spring of 2019. Black is the Body won the Christopher Isherwood Prize for Autobiographical Pros in the Los Angeles Times 2020 Book Prices Competition. A native of Nashville, Tennessee, Professor Bernard was recently named a 2020 Andrew Carnegie Fellow. Welcome Professor Bernard. The right reverend, Dr. Shannon McBean Brown, was elected Bishop by the people of the Episcopal Church in Vermont and was ordained and consecrated Bishop in September 2019. Ordained a priest in 2005, Bishop Shannon is particularly committed to community engagement, social justice, and leading in multi-generational and multicultural communities through formation, liturgy, pastoral care, and the arts. Prior to her election as the 11th Bishop of Vermont, Bishop Shannon served as interim rector of the St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Franklin, Indiana, a rural congregation committed to radical welcome and service to the community. She has also served at at Christ Church Cathedral in Indianapolis and St. John's Speedway in the Diocese of Indianapolis and several parishes in the Diocese of Michigan. She is currently a member of the Episcopal Church Task Force on Women, Justice, and Reconciliation. An experienced leader and community organizer, Bishop Shannon has held leadership roles with faith and action, a national community organizing network, and has led faith in Indiana and ACT Indiana, partner organizations working on innovative multi-faith solutions to statewide issues including immigration, mass incarceration, and access to health care and child care. During her time in Detroit, she founded and led the Greater Woodward Community Development Corporation, which advances economic opportunities and well-being of underserved residents of Detroit's north end. Bishop Shannon holds a BFA from Kendall College of Art and Design in Grand Rapids and a Master of Divinity from Seabury Western Theological Seminary and a Doctorate of Ministry from Ecumenical Theological Seminary in Detroit. Welcome Bishop Shannon. Thank you. Good to be here. Thanks. All right, so I guess we'll get started. We'll start with the first question which really speaks to maybe the bios that I just read. Each of you works in a different sphere of our community, government, education, and religion. What drew you to your life's work? What challenges and joys have you experienced in your work here in Vermont? And Jason, maybe we'll start with you. Well, thank you. Goodness. I would say since I took a different path to becoming a librarian, I didn't think I really knew that this would allow me to have the, I would say the platform to experience a variety of things when it comes to community conversation information. Educator, then immediately followed by that into workforce development, so it's all things commerce and employment, unemployment, and helping people with entrepreneurs followed by librarianship, which is a total different sense, but at the same time as I follow it, I have always had a thing for our conversation in people. And each of those bylines is somehow connected to the world of information. The joys of, I would say, coming to Vermont, I have friends who are in Waybridge who came here, I think about 2001, so I've been visiting the state often known since then, and I remember when I actually flew up at their behest. They said, tell me what you think, and I remember I kind of had to ask way back in 2001, a lot of the questions, and they said, you've been in New York, New Hampshire, what's wrong with you? I had to choose this, and I said, well, Vermont's kind of quiet. What does Vermont do? And then I remember asking, and they said, ask the question, they know me very well, of course, their way. And they said, what are you worried about? I said, are there any black people in Vermont? Because I don't hear that, you know. So what does that look like? So immediately upon arriving, I immediately understood what this looks like. I know a lot of northerners will sometimes cringe when I say this, but it really reminded me of South Carolina, except it's colder. There is a sense of community there, there's a lot of industriousness, and there is just this joy of conversation, particularly from the standpoint of civility, which I think is kind of lacking now. So those are some of the joys that I've had in lots of conversations and being able to travel across the state. The challenge is, there have been some interesting nuances that have led to some questions, but I would say those I'll say probably a little bit later in conversation. Wonderful. Maybe Professor Bernard? Sure. Thank you so much, Sharon. It's such a pleasure to be here. I am very, feel very privileged to be in the company about you tonight. Well, I came here in 2001, and I've been teaching at the University of Vermont since my husband, John Ginaria, I've landed here in Vermont. Since that moment in time, we have taken on two new family members, our daughters, who are Vermont, who've been here their whole lives. We adopted them when they were babies from Ethiopia. So there have been a lot, I mean, I feel like I've lived my whole adult life in Vermont in many ways, although I was in my early 30s when I came, but it has certainly always existed in my imagination as a reader, as a child. I always, I was fascinated by the landscapes, you know, in the writing of Nefengel Hawthorne and, you know, Ethan Frome. It's such an impression on me. And then when I met my husband and he actually was from that same area, I felt like destiny. So I think I've been coming to New England. I've been on my little journey since I was a kid. You know, I was born in Nashville, Tennessee, but I always felt at home, I think, of the writing in this period. And for so many black writers who made homes in New England, like Du Bois, W.E.B. Du Bois, and James Bowlin Johnson, you know, this area has always seemed very magical to me. So, you know, it's, I've been wrestling with this question of home. And I, my book, I talk about, you know, living in Vermont and living with the ambulans. And I think for me, I'll always be ambulant about the idea of home. I'll always envy people who have such a strong sense of belonging. But it's been a great place for me to become a writer. I think that, regardless of the, you know, the quarrels and some occasional, you know, feelings of discontent, I became a writer here. And that's very precious to me. And it has everything to do with the fact that, you know, it was in this place where I think I became a real reader, you know, and reading about these kinds of landscapes. But in an ironic way, the experience of alienation has been really good for my work, you know, working it out in my work, my ambivalent feelings about being here has become kind of a place where I feel very much at home in that ambivalence. So, this is a complicated place. But I think I've come to really enjoy the complication, you know, I think of being a person of color here. You have to have a sense of humor, I think, to make a life here, you know, in this place. And I feel I continue to grow as a person in some ways because of working out that question, what it means to belong somewhere. So, I don't know that I can see, if there's any place in this country that feels like home to me now, it's certainly Vermont, you know, my relationship to it feels much less complicated in the wake of the pandemic and everything that's going on. But it's certainly a place where I've grown up. Well, you know, my path to what I've ended up doing has been, I mean, you heard from my bio a little, not a straight path at all. And so I can't, you know, pinpoint a single thing that led me to do into my life's work. And I think probably, I mean, my parents, my family are educators. And so there's this encouragement to be curious and to want to know things and to learn about the world and oneself. And I'm also an artist. And so creativity, you know, has led me to, I do what I want to do pretty much. And that's because also my mother said, hey, you know, whatever you want to do, go ahead. Which was a big thing to say to someone when she first said that to me. And then my dad is a retired priest. So all of these, you know, weaving it together. I mean, I've been a teacher, a grade school teacher and art teacher and sort of following this path and this, you know, consistent conversation with God about what I should be doing with my time. And, you know, God letting me do whatever I want it to do to a certain point. And, you know, looking back, a lot of things make sense, you know, why I experienced certain things, why, you know, why I was laid off and or why I was, you know, serving in a congregation part time and, you know, all these different experiences that really didn't make a lot of sense. And then also being surprised by the notion that Vermont was supposed to be home. And once I got here, and first even reading about, you know, the diocese where I'm serving now, I just, there was, for some reason, you know, just drawn to it, that didn't really make sense. And so that's been a joy and a surprise in the landscape, you know, just driving around actually mostly a ride. I don't drive as much myself. I mean, I do. But it's just, and when I drive by myself, it's not great because I'm distracted all the time by the beauty. And I first came here during mud season. And, you know, all I could see was just this range of muted, soft, inviting colors. And when Emily talks about home, it's funny to experience, you know, coming here and thinking, wow, this feels like home and I'm from Detroit. And it makes sense. And that, you know, something about being in, from an inner city and being in a rural setting, it makes sense to me. I can make those connections. You must be an artist if you look at the mud, mud season and see soft colors and nice things. That's the first time I've heard that. In fact, my consecration vestments are, I mean, they look like mud season, the way I saw it, you know, when other people, I told them, this is mud season. They're like, I guess you're right. You know, I mean, pictures that I took, they look like the vestments that were made for me. And it just, it's amazing. Yes, beautiful. Wonderful. Okay, so I think this next question, I think we have some excitement around talking about language and the written word is really at the heart of your work for all three of you. And I imagine your lives, when did you realize the power of language for you and how do you think about using it? So maybe we'll start with Professor Bernard. Well, yeah, this is the best company to talk about language in. I mean, I think for me, it's so much, it's how I understand the world, you know, through language, through storytelling. I mean, I'm, I am a sucker for the human experience. And they can never get enough of it. And I love how Ramon has taught me to be more mindful of my place in the natural world. Because I can get so caught up, I think, in just the exchanges between human beings, but but it's something, you know, I so deeply miss in this moment of COVID. I mean, among all the things we all miss, I miss spontaneous human interaction. You know, I miss that kind of spontaneous, those exchanges that can become part of larger stories. And it's, and I guess I can say I've never, I've never understood the power of it until now, you know, when not only spending a lot of my time alone, but the echo chamber, I think, that we now all live in our respective echo chambers, I miss the subtlety of conversation and discussion. And it seems to be so lacking. But Jason, I think, sort of what you were talking about the civility, you know, that we have here, and we value, I think, culturally, and how it's absent from the national stage. But for me, language is about the subtlety and the nuances and the contradictions, you know, and I find myself very hungry for it. And as much as so many of us are being called to talk back to the world, I, and as hard as it can be in overwhelming, I so, I believe in it so deeply, I believe that transformation comes in those quiet exchanges we have, we can be human beings together. And I believe in human complexity. And no matter the fact that I think that's missing from a lot of discourse around politics and race these days, the sense of human complexity, you know, I mean, I'm still gonna, I feel like we still have to be called to insist upon it, and say that it's important that we understand each other as complex individuals. And I guess I, if nothing else, this period has helped me hone that purpose of my own work in my life, that I believe in that. No one will ever be able to talk me out of that. And I know, I feel I have a keener sense of what I mean, you know, when I get to the page and when I have a chance to talk to people, that this is what I mean, you know, more than anything else that I want to, I want us to be able to cherish the, you know, even the minutiae of ourselves, you know, I don't want us to get lost in slogans and, you know, broad strokes and we forget that we are complex and we are already related in so many ways. And, you know, it's human exchange that's so important in language, then it's such a function of that. Yeah, I really hear that. Bishop Shannon. Yeah, I love that question because I, well, I mean, I already said that I'm an artist, and so one of the things that I didn't want to do in life was write as much as I do. I didn't, you know, I never thought of, I don't think of myself as a writer, and, and even, you know, whatever I'm writing, it really is supposed to be, you know, a conversation or, you know, a sermon, you know, that's, that's what I do. And, but I do remember, I think I was about 12 when I first started really being aware of words and their impact. And I was in choir. And we were, I don't even know the song, but it had something to do with man was being used to refer to everybody. And I said, wait, wait a minute, I can't sing that. That's not right. That's not what God intends. I know it's supposed to be everybody, but that doesn't include me. Does it include, you know, women and children? And that this doesn't seem right. And, you know, the adult that was in charge, let me say what I had to say and told everybody to get out pencils. And we wrote in the book and changed the words and saying something different. So that's, you know, I didn't make much difference to them, but they allowed me to speak my mind. And it was a man, too, that allowed that to happen. And so I think, I mean, you know, the saying sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me. Well, it's not true. I mean, it really isn't. I'm always mindful of, you know, the words that we say and how they include or exclude or erase people or normalize and center certain people at the expense of others. And so, you know, I'm really careful about the language that I use. And, and I have noticed also that, you know, during the pandemic, well, my preaching has changed for one thing. My process is getting a little bit back to what it was. But, you know, I just, I don't have much patience for saying things that are holding back things that need to be said. But I feel like I have a responsibility. And that's also, I mean, the responsibility of using language that brings more people into the picture is very important. But also, you know, the amount of energy that it takes to wear my black woman mask that I used to spend. Well, I've got other people, I mean, besides my family in my house and my family in Detroit, and I've got not quite 6,000, but around that many Episcopalians to be responsible for. And I'm also part of a larger group of people. And so I just don't have, I just don't even have the energy to keep putting it on this mask to protect white people. And then, and I don't think it's necessarily doing them any good. And it certainly, you know, it hurts me. And so I just don't wear it much anymore. And say the things that I really think need to be said. And keep reminding myself. And then, I mean, that's the other thing. It's like, I was so shocked. You know, we've got this, this book, it's a prayer book. And this is our that's, you know, all prayers. And they sound so different now in the pandemic, even Scripture sounds different because of the experience. And so, you know, just reminding, you know, who I'm supposed to be working for. Thinking, well, if Jesus could say that, well, maybe they won't crucify me for it. But if he could say it, and what he did, I'm going to say what needs to be said, because I have no business, not. And we're going to circle back to something that you wrote in a few minutes. So I want to circle back to that. Jason, how about language and you? I live and breathe this every day, because in the world of librarianship, particularly in my position as a very state official, state librarians don't really do a lot of the research we used to do under our skill set. But I do command that in a variety of ways to assist a lot of people in understanding the role of what information actually means. At a very early age, I come from a family in the south, a family of bootleggers, it's open to say that the broadens in South Carolina, you would have loved our moonshine, but I'll be quiet on that. But from that, sorry, Bishop, I just had to put that up there. So within that, one of the more unique things is, we like a lot of discussion, a lot of talking. But with that, my mother being in English, wanted to make sure that you understood the power of active information, language and communication is just expression of what we might read and how we wish to convey that. So for me, the written word is so powerful that I don't think a lot of people even understand the role of information that is just written. Never mind you if you are a teacher who understands how to connect with a variety of students. I'm the way I was trained, which meant you just didn't do lectures and orations. You also had different presentations, you had activities, you had sound, you had physical, because everybody learns differently. If people forget, that's a form of information just for the body to understand. So in understanding how we convey different forms of information to people really tells a little bit about ourselves constantly. So I find it quite fascinating when you have conversations with people, how information is interpreted, how it is then communicated, and what it means to be a recipient of that. And I would say dealing with my time in Vermont, it has been a really wonderful time. I'm probably one of the few people that continuously, if you would talk to me in Vermont or say like, Oh, that's just unreal. Yes, I actually like cold weather. I remember a lot of Vermont just said, Well, you came to the right place. Let's see how you do below zero. And I think I did quite fine. Because Vermont is a very active people out in the cold. It's a very unique culture, which I appreciated saying, Oh, you can't stay in your house here. You have cabin fever. You got to get out. And it was so, so wonderful to do things in the winter. But what that meant is people are able to communicate things in a way for success if we want that to be done. If we don't, people get different environments. Conversation based on the information that you have in your background can also be unique. And I know that a lot of Vermont has maybe not experienced who is a minority, because I will tell you in Barry, my neighbors joke, but they also said non-jokingly. I actually think you integrated the neighborhood. And that was such a surprise to me because it let me know, Oh my goodness, you're saying that we live on this street. No minority has lived. And there were people who said that is correct. So if you understand what that means, that in some parts of Vermont, there are people who maybe have never had a relationship or interaction with any type of minority other than gender. It's an interesting conversation. And it's a wealth of information to see what that leads to if you open yourself to those conversations. Appreciate that. Professor Bernard, I think we'll dig in a little bit more to the language piece and to some of the perspectives that you've just been sharing about Vermont. So in a recent piece in the New Yorker, you wrote of your daughter's middle school experience, quote, let's just say that they have emerged from these years with a keen appreciation of the way that racism works in subtle and not so subtle ways in the liberal communities. Can you speak more on this? Absolutely. And I want to get back to a couple of things because Shannon said, actually, I just remember you were telling me it anchored me and opened this new door when you said to me, we met for lunch, you know, those all those months ago, and you said that it was a calling to come here. And I have been carrying that had a chance to tell you because of this lockdown, how that just was this beautiful opening onto this world of possibility with the idea of being called, you know, I mean, I was thinking about that and home. And the language exactly what you were saying, taking off the mask and saying, All right, what do I really want? What did I come here to say? And the piece that Karen was talking about the New Yorker piece was a piece in writerly terms, one of those very rare gifts you get. Sometimes when you just it comes out in a rush, you know, I make my hands couldn't move fast enough to get that story out. It was it was a story that was born in some desperation. And, you know, when you get down to it and say, I, in order to live and survive and take the next steps, I need to tell the story. And it's also a story involving my daughters. And when we really feel like we wrote it together, you know, Julia calls her her essay and treats it that way. But it's a story that contains a lot of pain in that it talks about both of them in middle school is very hard. And, you know, my daughters graduated from total middle school. And in some ways, you know, what they experienced was exactly what I experienced, you know, more than almost 40 years ago, you know, very similar situation. Even in national Tennessee, which was always, you know, always a my school was integrated, you know, but it wasn't at the same time, because the way tracking tracking worked, you know, as a de facto segregation. But my daughters are going through a lot of the same thing. I mean, demographically, they were, you know, minorities, but the problem was I think a problem that shapes a lot of conversation around race, which of course is fear. I think there were a lot of moments where certain teachers felt that they'd rather just be silent when it came to race, as opposed to taking a chance. And who fell through the cracks were my little girls, you know, because they needed adults to help lead and shape their reactions, help them refine their responses. And they didn't get that kind of leadership. We did have, I mean, there's always, you know, some fantastic exceptions. And my daughters have made real meaning out of the experiences they went through. But it was hard. It was hard, especially as they're growing up and dealing with all of the typical things kids are at that age, but it became so much about race and being made to feel alien, and their bodies, the way they look, you know, issues around hair. And it was only actually through the experience of early lockdown, when we were home together, where I saw and heard some of the truth of that experience, you know, they sort of just given me a portion of it. But once they were at home and safe, I got a full picture. But I don't think that, I think this, you know, one thing I do say to my daughters is that they really have a vocabulary to describe their experience, which is back to language, you know. And I was saying, even recently saying to them when I was their age, I said, God, I went through a lot of the same things, but I didn't want to call it. You know, I didn't really, it just, these things are happening to me. But they can talk about white supremacy, and they can talk about white privilege and toxic masculinity. You know, they have a way to think about it. And in the end, you know, there's that choice, right? Are you going to let the things happen to you, ruin you? Or are you going to make meaning out of them? And I tell them all the time, you know, really comes down to that choice. You know, are you going to live or you're going to die? Is this experience going to rob you of something? Are you going to try to harness it and make it something? And it's obviously not always possible, you know. But so far, I think my daughters experienced, you know, kind of, I mean, the everyday kind of alienation, a lot of black kids experience in predominantly white settings. But I like to think that they emerge from these experiences with stories to tell that are about help their own growth, you know what I'm saying? So they didn't get lost in experiences, but we talked about using and learning from our reactions, you know, to help figure out what happens the next time. So, you know, we're getting through it together, but certainly they paid quite a cost, paid quite a cost. But in the end, I think they they've learned to navigate it and learn to make something useful out of it. I'm really proud to say one of my daughters is actually going to be mentoring middle school students, black and brown middle school students, she's going to be running an affinity group, you know, because I said to them, like, you know, when you try to do something for someone else, often that's the best way out of pain as we know, you know, so they're healing from their experiences, hopefully by by, you know, helping some some even younger ones along. Thank you. I really appreciate the fact that you brought up the fear, fear as a as a big issue. And I think that some of the other questions that we had talked about tonight kind of kind of speak to that. And that might be a good, a good piece to keep in mind for the next question, which really leads into consciousness shifting and you know, fear kind of getting in the way of folks shifting their consciousness in order to see and in order to participate and engage. And this question came from I recently watched an interview, it was by the national, I think low income housing folks, did an interview with Tonhassi Coates on housing in the time of COVID. And one of the things he spoke about was this need for consciousness shifting as a prerequisite to policy change toward racial equity. And I really liked, I've heard people talk about inner work, I really like this consciousness shifting as the language. So I just wondered what your perspectives are on the need for consciousness shifting and where do you see this happening in Vermont and where not? You know, Heather, you want to respond to that? Maybe, Bishop Shannon, would you like to start? And then we'll go around. I'm still thinking about what Emily was just talking about. And it is sort of a consciousness shift. I'm thinking of, you know, just our own family and the conversations that we have. And, and, you know, like you said, having words for things and white supremacy and, and, you know, I would never use that when I was growing up. And my daughter, my 16 year old, she's, she's biracial. And it's just, and when she was a little girl, she, you know, she said she was black. That's it. And we get angry with people that didn't understand or see her as black because she doesn't, I mean, she can pass. And then, you know, being in Vermont has, has, has caused her to sort of like, hmm, that she, while ago, she decided she was biracial or mixed or whatever she calls it. That's up to her as her business. But being able to talk about how society sees her and, and telling people that they can't decide who she is, or how she is. And the pandemic though has, has done this thing where she's never had such an issue with, and I don't want to say this in the wrong way because she's, because she is mixed. But she, you know, she has a lot of problems with how white supremacy centers white women. And, you know, she, you know, we've, it was never like something that we talked about before, but now she does and then talks about just her, her desire to try to figure out how to do something about the fact that there are things that are out of her control that happen to people that she loves that that could happen to her, but probably wouldn't because people wouldn't see her that way. And the fear that she has of seeing certain things like Confederate flags. And, you know, just on Sunday, we were visiting somewhere and saw a lot of them. And, you know, that just, Jesus, aren't you afraid? Yeah, I mean, what am I going to do about it? But the other thing that I've noticed and just sort of this, this shifting in the conversation within our diocese, because of, you know, knowing me. So some of these things have become more personal and others are seeing things that they didn't used to see. Of course, the pandemic has us as a captive audience. And so you can't unsee George Floyd dying. You can't unsee that. You can't explain it away. And, you know, I just, as a church, I feel like we've, you know, we've, we've missed some of our responsibility. And so, you know, if things are going to be different, we actually need to be doing what we're supposed to be doing and being involved in ways that we're supposed to be involved, talking about things in language right there. And, and another, I guess, really listening to the words that are in our prayers, the words that are in scripture, the words that are, I mean, we make all these promises. And, you know, how can you, you know, it's all of what we're engaged in is supposed to be countercultural. And yet, for the most part, churches are sort of a, you know, how to be part of society and being a good, you know, American is the same thing as being a good Christian and it's not. And if we don't do what we're supposed to be doing, I mean, there's enough of us on a lot of us, that if we were doing the things and saying the things, we're not going to be doing what we're supposed to be. We're doing the things and saying the things and involved in the things that we really say we believe society would be different. You know, conversations about white supremacy wouldn't be conversations because they wouldn't be. I mean, it sounds simple to say that, but it's, I mean, it is. I guess I'll jump in. I'm going to try to distill some things that we just covered all into one. On this item of consciousness, what is probably more unique for me is understanding different lenses that one is examined through. And Vermont's sort of helped with that, but it's also just age. When you heard Emily and Bishop Shannon discuss the need to take off the mask, I want to be upfront and let people know we all have that to a degree. But at the same time, there are other levels to that. So for example, the three of us are united in the color of our skin. So that's a mask that we have to embrace, hug and take with us as a shield sometimes when the world views us differently. But now let's exclude that out by gender. African American women are considered in one way by certain populaces and also black males, like myself, on how we should interact and what the expectation could be. And that, of course, lends itself to stereotyping, which one must be very, very careful. I remember a long time ago when I was working a bakery, I met a wonderful person talking who had this interesting friend. He was the head baker. And the friend was just to me, I'm going to be honest, we would call that Bama in the South, which means you're a lower tier style individual. If you know when someone calls you Bama, it's like, okay, we got the country coming in here now. So what did that mean? In conversating, the person knew that I was in school for a biology degree, and I talked about how I liked music. And they were like, oh, I bet you played jazz. And I said, oh, I do play jazz. But right now we're dealing with symphonic pieces. And he was like, black people don't know how to play in a symphony. And I remember the head chef just looked and we just stopped talking. So just know those experiences travel with you, coming to Vermont, in which I understood what perception sometimes I think Ramonches will allow the rest of the country to understand itself to be. It brings up interesting thoughts when you meet people in, let's say, Chittenden County, who you talk to, and they interestingly sometimes give you these unique stances of, well, I don't know if I really trust you. What did you mean by that? Are you talking about me as a state librarian? Are you talking about me as a man, a black man? You find that a bit perplexing. And you're never really sure exactly what that means. Now, the other people, they've looked around and said, well, I don't think it was it meant. But the mere fact, they had to openly tell me that in the presence of that person, let me know they too then felt the negative part of that as opposed to the positive. So when you ask a question about consciousness shifting, I would say from what I see in the library landscape, you'll be surprised, I will hold Chittenden County to a much higher standard. The reason why is it is considered the most diverse county in the state of Vermont, with Pinooski being the most diverse city. So that is in its own tier. But if you want to talk about what's really going on, what I talk about across the hinterlands of Vermont, you would be perplexingly surprised to realize there are people having conversations on race that will amaze you. And that shifting is in the rural areas where there are not that many diverse people, but people of different backgrounds, economic stances, having conversations. I've been a part of some of those where I've been pleasantly shocked, because I would least expect to see certain things in Canaan, Vermont. For example, the library that has a wonderful collection, I looked up there and I went, oh my goodness, there are some Confederate flags there, but thank you. I love the tee. It was amazing to meet you, fellas. Amazing people. Again, when we say the Confederate flag, that definitely perplexed me. For those who paid attention, I did ask a question on BPR, Brailleville State. What does a Confederacy mean to Vermonters? Because the thing that shocked me the most was listening to some social studies teachers who told me their bloodline was part of the union. That's amazing to know. But now you have the teachers watching a younger set of people put on Confederate belt buckles, boots, images on their cars, narrow light. I wonder if their forefathers could see them now, but they'd be turning in their union grave. And that perplexed me to say, you're part of a union heritage and you're going to embrace the Confederacy. I know the South likes to proclaim it's a rebel. We all like to be rebels when we're young. Think about when you were a teen, I definitely was that. And my father was a sheriff in South Carolina, so no, he did not play the music as what they say in the country. So that's a unique thing to understand. But it's a really perplexing thing, but I would say consciousness is shifting in a variety of ways on this landscape that might surprise a lot of Remanters. Thank you, Jason. That was really, really enlightening. Really, really appreciate that perspective. I'm mindful of the time and that we might have some Q&A from the audience. So I do have one last question that I'm hoping to share or to ask. Bishop Shannon, this is about the open letter that you wrote in June. And you wrote, and I'll quote, we must realize that striving for justice and peace will make us uncomfortable and challenge many to give up their privilege. Based on some of the what's just come out, maybe could you speak a little bit more about that? Yeah. I mean, things are the way they are because people are, it benefits them. And so to say that to make things right, that things have to change, then people that are comfortable will not be as comfortable as they are. And so, I mean, that's just, I don't know, reality doesn't, I don't know. It doesn't seem surprising to me. Also, I think that for Christians that sometimes we think of this, what we do is something that's supposed to be just comfortable and it's all about making ourselves feel good once a week and doing a few good things that, for someone else that make us feel better. But that's not it. That isn't it at all. And so if inequities are going to, inequities are going to be addressed, you know, people are going to have to say some different things and to put themselves out and not have the cover of fitting in and also allowing themselves to give up things. I mean, I've talked with people, I mean, I've taught anti-racism training before and remind people that, yeah, this is a difficult subject and it's taken, you know, hundreds of years for us to get to where we are. So if we're going to get it right, and it's not even about reconciliation because it wasn't ever right, if we're going to make something new, it's going to be painful in the same way. But, you know, it's, I think of it in a positive way in the sense that, and not to sugarcoat it, because there's nothing sugary about this, but, you know, like raising children, bearing children, all of that. I mean, that is hard work, but worth it, you know, if you give your all to it. I don't know, I guess that's all I have to say about that. I mean, I'm also heartened that, you know, this is not something that I thought, you know, oh, I'm going to go to Vermont and we're going to work on racial healing and doing away with white supremacy and all of that. I had no, no thoughts. And so I think part of how I ended up getting here and talking about a calling, you know, you answer this call as an ordained person and even just as a follower of Jesus, you know, you're baptized and you live your life, you don't know really what you're getting yourself into. Nobody does. And especially those that are baptized as babies or children, you have no idea, and your parents have no idea what they've done to you. But you're in this thing and and coming here, I, the first Bishop of Vermont, he wrote a book called The Biblical Case for Slavery. And as we were cleaning out the library and later on, my husband and I had a conversation and I mentioned something about that book and he says, Oh yeah, I packed that up in the box with the other books. I was wondering what that was about. So yeah, that was written by the first Bishop. And he's in my backyard. He's buried out there. And I just think, God has a sense of humor or or something. Because I mean, he was an artist. And I'm an artist. And and then, you know, discovering my DNA and looking into that and, you know, my great, great, great grandfather. Well, he owned his son and sold him. And so and so the first Bishop was Scottish. And so that's where my my Scottish heritage comes from this great, great, great grandfather. And I thought, you know, my God, I would never I would never choose to go some place with these sort of weird connections that no one could plan ahead. And to be, you know, you know, a black woman in leadership in this place. It wasn't it wasn't a mistake. And because of the pandemic, we have, you know, jumped into this work a lot more quickly and a lot more earnestly, and given a much more priority. And it hasn't been been an easy thing. But, you know, people have said to me, Bishop, we have to do something about white supremacy. We don't know what to do. And so we're, you know, we're going to study, we're going to see where that leads us. And we don't want to just say and study, but we want to do things. And so people are actually doing that at this point, you know, planning vigils, where they're, you know, you're, it's not just, you know, an intellectual thing or a thing that's right to do, but actually, you know, their bodies out saying, you know, this, we want everyone to count. And so that's not the end of all of it. But I think that once people start to get their bodies aligned with the things that they're saying, that we will figure out other things to do, to actually make a difference when it comes to white supremacy, getting, you know, abolishing it. Racism too, to help the audacity to think that we could, you know. Thank you, Bishop Shannon. There's a lot there. Keegan, do we have questions from the audience? And we have about 10 minutes, and I know we have one last bit where, you know, more possibly quicker question at the end. I guess I'll just ask the panelists, are you open to accepting a couple of questions from the audience? Yes. Yes, okay. Thanks. Keegan? So Erin asked, I'd be interested to hear you talk about your hopes and dreams for Vermont schools, and how they will address white supremacy and move toward anti-racist dispositions. Well, I can start off with that because I'm in a very unique position from a governmental stance. I know that the Department of Education has a item right now in diversifying educators in the Vermont workforce, and I am part of that conversation. And there are lots of things that are being examined to see what it looks like to first deal with representation. But at the same time, I have to tell people, education right now, just like healthcare, has a lot of people rethinking given how they were treated. Do I really want to do this? Because those two areas are so important right now in our lives, but people used to, when I was educated, say, oh, my taxpayer is paid for your sitting at this desk. People just glorified babysitters. And I used to sit there and say, if you really understood how much you dread a Sunday night as a teacher, because it's going to be Monday morning, but the kiddos, no matter how much you love them, it changes your outlook. Within that, however, if we're trying to really educate people, it's going to go beyond that, I think. If you're looking for education to solve the problem, my mother was an educator, that's not going to help you solve your problem. A lot of this has to be some parental education. And that means having to have some conversations with people at the appropriate time. For me, it was, of course, the birds and the bees, which I question, because birds and bees can't really have sex. But I used to say, like, but people have sex. My parents said, okay, he already knows what's going on here. Again, biology major, I was already ahead of my time. But when you have to have your father a sheriff in the community where you live, sit you down and say, I need to tell you something else as a black male, you're rather large like me, six foot big, people could be terrified of you. And I was like, how to be terrified of me? I'm humorous. I'm educated. And he says, there are people who don't know that they just see something and they think that could kill me. So in looking at that, one of the things I think we can all prepare ourselves is to become uncomfortable, to go into certain conversations with an open mind and an open heart. And then just see where it takes you. You will need to restrain yourself because you're going to want to say, what do you mean by that comment? And for me, that goes on a whole different level, whether it's gender to race and a whole bunch of items. But now I'm much more inquisitive to say, tell me more, help me understand why you think I might be different. Because those conversations are happening with me with certain people. And it's quite interesting, because they do want to know or feel comfortable to say, can you tell me why black people? And of course I pipe up, well, I'm talking for all of us, but I'm not. I'm just one black person. Black can tell you what the mood is. But I can tell you why I would agree or disagree with that. And I did see in the chat, there was a question about maybe how we feel about black lives matter. Support, yes, but tactics, some of them aren't really good. Black or white would look at some of the tactics and say, well, some of y'all could have done some of this better. The sentiment is very, very needed. So just know that there's not a monolith, but there is a centering of fears, how that's expressed, do you understand it? My opinion. You know, I want to add to that. You know, when we talk about allyship and things like that, I actually had someone, I mean, liberals, Christians, you know, we love to see things from both sides. Oh, you know, to listen to both sides and this and that and the other. There are not two sides to everything. There just aren't. There's just not. And you can't be my ally and support people and policies that think that I'm less than or don't deserve respect. And so, you know, we have to be clear about those things and you can't quibble with that. And people have a hard time doing that. It's that's a very uncomfortable, uncomfortable thing to do. But, you know, and talking about Black Lives Matter, I mean, it's, it wouldn't be an issue. No one would be saying it or bringing it up. And I think of my sister-in-laws and one of them, and I have a nephew who is a police officer. And I won't get into the issues with that. But one sister-in-law after some Black man was killed in the street, who knows who it was? Because, you know, it happens. And so we were driving along and, and I was dreading, you know, this conversation around, you know, things. And one said, oh, well, you know, all lives matter. And the other one said, I don't, this is the white sister-in-law, they're white, okay? And one said to her sister, I don't want to ever hear you say that again. Never. She said, if that mattered, if everyone's lives mattered, then we would not see the things that we're seeing. And we can't say that. Yeah, of course, but you can't say that. And I had to say nothing. So I guess all that to say, yeah, it would help if, you know, people, white people have to say these things. White people have to, and Vermont is this, I'd love that, about, you know, finding out that people in my, my congregations are studying books and doing things and, and they were doing it when nobody was looking. And so when this time came upon them, they were even more resolute in doing something positive and, and, and being clear about there aren't two sides to everything. We need more of that. Professor Bernard, did you want to comment on that? And then maybe we'll move to the last question. I just, I don't want to keep you over what we asked. Well, I guess I, I mean, everything is resonating, you know, with, I mean, I'm really feeling very at home in this conversation. And I do think about this issue of allyship and courage, you know, what does it mean to be courageous? Sometimes it's just being able to hear the word no. I mean, you know, sometimes I think the courageous white ally has to brook, you know, the despair and sometimes the black person who might not be ready, you know, to engage in a conversation who might be exhausted. And the ally has to be, has to stand in courage and be resolute in what, who they are, right? Because I think, as Mr. Shana was saying, the thing that you really hit me, you know, doing it while no one's looking, you know, so we do things for, of course, for lots of reasons. But I feel most safe when I feel that in a relationship with a white person who is committed to justice, because that's what they believe, you know, not because they think it's to please, you know, the black people around them or, but because it's just who they are, you know, they're people who believe. And I think that if we, if we are all committed to these things, then, you know, our language will change and we won't need certain terms to talk about it, as Mr. Shana said earlier, we won't need to talk about white supremacy because it would not exist. There'd be no reason, we would need to say all lives matter because all lives do actually matter. But it takes the courage, I think, of the white person to say, I'm going to do what I believe is right. I'm not trying to get the approval of this black person. And I'm not going to crumble, you know, if the black person is impatient with my style of allyship or where I am in my learning, you know, you have to be committed, I think, to the issue itself and then nothing can sway you, you know, and then you just, you're on your path. And that's something I've come to see, you know, over the last few months, if I've learned anything about allyship, it does take courage and sometimes a quiet courage. I want to add one item that, when you just said that, that is very helpful from my own parents in that I appreciate allyship, people who are confident in being able to address a conversation or stand up for someone. But the way I learned about this way of handling our lives is really, as they have said, it's a commitment. But this is life's work, is what my parents used to say. And we had a lot of people in the South who, they knew that from day one, as she said, your center is, oh, no, no, no, this is all about people. This ain't got to do with race, this is something wrong. And I think if more people understand, it's not about getting on social medium, it's not about the sound bite, it's not about trying to get approval. When you really look at the mirror and say, oh, no, no, no, that was a total wrong, that doesn't have any color. That changes your whole outlook because you're going to carry that for the rest of your life. And if you're prepared to do that, that's what this work engages in. I will do this until I die for any injustices. And that's a harder thing for people to be asked to say, are you prepared to do this? For every gender, race, sex, that's economic class, that's a little bit harder because we all have a comfort. It's like, oh, what does that mean? No, no, no, no. If there is a problem, you're going to need to address that. Otherwise, it will come back to you, which we're having now. Thank you. Thank you all. As a closure, I was going to ask, what three books or media resources have most influenced your life? Or would you recommend right now? And so maybe you can speak to that or take a last moment to comment on anything that's come up for you. And then I'll close. Mine will be quick then. For me, the most powerful book that I found that helped me when my mother was diagnosed with dementia, which allowed me to engage my inner self of all the guitar and my father for inner strength. When I read it, and again, those are my friends in Vermont, it changed me when I had to deal with that me and my brother. It was a good thing and bad things happen to good people. And I think it's Howard Kushner. And that book starts off talking about him as a rabbi having to confront this family of the death of their child and him questioning his own religion to say, I'm about to walk in this room and I have no reason to give them why God did this. And the book starts off with that saying, bad things do happen to good people, but you've got to persevere and live the best life that you can while you're here. And that's what I think we should all aim to do. So that was one of my most important books in my life personally. Well, I'll just, okay, so of course, you're going to expect me to say the Bible. Yeah, it's true. But in particular, the teachings of Jesus and just the counter cultural and revolutionary manner of his life. And that, you know, it makes me do what I do and say what I say and gives me lots of strength and courage. And then, so I recommend that, of course. And the other thing is, so it's not a particular one thing, but black women, musical artists, like Erica Baidu, Beyonce, Janelle Monet, Jill Scott, Solange, Rihanna, and to a certain extent, Lizzo. I listened to Lizzo while I was here doing walkabouts. But the thing about them is these black women who, you know, the musical form and their lyrics, that they've just decided they're going to define blackness and sexuality and their womanhood on their own terms. And they are not seeking validation from the outside or from people that don't look like them. And then some of them, well, Beyonce and Janelle Monet have done some visual albums. And they're just, they're just beautiful. I mean, it just, you know, to see black people look like that and to just be centered and art in that way is just, I mean, it's amazing. Some people will probably be surprised, but, and then I'm very visual. So an art exhibit 30 Americans and one of the featured artists in that was Candy Wiley and just the way that, I mean, that whole exhibit was, you know, fabulous. And just seeing representation of black people and, you know, their art and their lives and their expression and the subject matter centering, you know, black people that, I mean, that's several years ago since I saw that. But those, these things really impact how I am. And it's sort of maybe seems strange because I, you know, I don't represent black people as Bishop, have they been to the gospel church in Vermont? There's just a very small number of black people, but it helps me to lead the way I'm supposed to lead, having that, you know, undergirding me and how I feel about myself and see myself. I think that we have a lot of the same musical, you know, the language in our ears. I also think about, I can't at all claim the Bible as a direct source because I've never read, you know, I've never read very much in the Bible at all. But the people, the writers I love were deeply steeped in the Bible. And I think about Zornal Hurston, who is someone who I cherish. And in the middle of this pandemic, as well, maybe all you said your writing is sounding differently and talking about writing with a different new urgency. And I think about her example. And I think about, this is a woman who, you know, had a calling and had a passion. And it saw her through everything, you know, McCarthyism and, you know, economic disappointments, romantic, you know, disillusionment, she had her work. And I often think about her, the kind of, she built stories about people. And I've been thinking, you know, she was first an ethnographer. And I was like, when I get out of this box, I want to do, I want to, I want to talk to older Black Vermonters. And, you know, this life that you and I have chosen. And now are in the middle of, I want to know what it's like to have spent, you know, decades and decades here. And I'm just so curious, you know, about what it means to put down stakes here for over many, many years and maybe generations. But I think, so I think a lot about Hurston, I've been reading, because I've got a few things going on into her correspondence and thinking about her, a lot of her private life a lot. And she's been really, she's been on my mind as I've been thinking about the next projects for myself, you know, and how to, you know, how to use language on my own to be prepared for whatever happens, you know, in November. You know, how to think about how to orient myself toward whatever chapter that's going to represent in the work and testifying, you know, to this experience and committing myself to that larger project like Hurston. So it's Hurston as an artist who's in my mind these days and her words are drifting in and out and all over my desk, but she's on my mind. Thank you. Thank you all. Overall, thank you, Jason Broughton, Bishop Shannon, Professor Bernard, thank you so much for your time and your energy and for sharing of yourselves tonight, I'm feeling really grateful for myself and thank you to participants for coming and with that we'll close out and I wish you and your families well going forward. Thank you so much. And a pleasure. Thank you, Karen. Thank you again. Thank you Bishop Shannon and Jason, great to meet you guys. See you soon. Yes.