 Hi, I'm Mitch Beck, and I'm from Saifart in Chelsea, Vermont. And Saifart was founded by Tracy Penfield, a fabric artist and a dancer back in 1999. Tracy grew up in the Upper Valley area of New Hampshire, and she became involved with her future husband at the age of 14. It was a very unhealthy relationship. While he never physically hurt her, he did emotionally and mentally. They were together until she was 30 years old. When she was 20, she took a modern dance class that changed her world. She danced and danced anywhere with anybody, with a loan in an open new door for her and her spirit rose. So she became very interested in artistic pursuits. She was teaching a dancing class, and noticed how the students were opening up to her after dance class. She became interested in healing, noticing how some of her life was not working. Later, she learned that this was from the trauma caused by her ex-husband. She learned that creative expression opens people physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. It was in 1999 when training for the Domestic Violence Agency Safe Line, which covers Orange County and Northern Windsor County, that she realized for the very first time that she was in an abusive relationship. And it never crossed her mind until that moment. So Safe Line asked Tracy if she could get some of her theater friends together and put on an awareness-raising performance for Safe Line. Seven women and one man signed on for this. It was from this that Safe Art was born. This book here, it's called A Curriculum of Courage, Making Safe Art. This was published in 2016 by Tracy Penfield. And it says it's created by Tracy Penfield with the courage and input of many others. So it was a very collaborative book. It's a book that kind of shows how to use the principles of a safe art if you want to teach it yourself. There is some poetry in here. There's a lot of entries from Tracy's Journal over the years. And actually, I'm very proud to say that I have my own page in this book. Yeah, it was an honor, actually, to have that there. And it just, my page tells my story. I was severely feeling effects of PTSD in the early, I shouldn't say the early, all through the 2000s, from 2000 to 2010. My wife Ann and I moved to South Royalton in 2002. And in 2003, I was really suffering from the effects of trauma. And we have a nice little co-op down in town. And we were going in to the store. And we stopped. And Ann was reading a flyer that was on the window. And it was all about this new group that was starting in town from this nonprofit's safe art. And it was very specific at that time to suffer from domestic abuse or sexual violence. And so Ann looked at me. And she said, oh, honey, you should go to this. And I looked at her and said, no, I'm not going. And I stomped away into the store. So the next time we were in town, again, the flyer's there. And Ann looked at me and said, honey, you really should go to this. And I said, no, I'm not going. And I stomped in the store. So I don't know how many times this went on. I was like, maybe I should never go back in town again. So my daughter and her husband, and she had a brand new baby, they came to visit. And off we went to the co-op. And the flyer's still there. And my daughter looks in and says, mom, you should really go to this. This would be great for you. And I said, I'm not going. And off I stomped. And Ann didn't give up. She really felt that this would be the best place for me. Then it would be very helpful. And finally, I did give in. She said I was like a kindergartner going off to the first day of school. I was not happy about it at all. And it's kind of funny. It was in downtown South Royalton in this really creepy building. It was, yeah, I don't know. It was one of those fellowship halls or something. But it was kind of creepy. And I remember we did a lot of movement. And we did some dancing stuff and rolling around exercises on the floor, which is not my thing at all. But the best part was the train came through. And the train tracks are right there. So we got to scream when the train came through. Nobody could hear us. But I got home. And Ann says, you came home with a smile. You were excited. You were happy. It was just me and one other woman and Tracy. And that was the very beginning of a Healing Arts for Women group. And we used to meet every Wednesday evening, not every, but once a month for two hours. And we would do some sort of art and talk. And there is a core group of about five of us that stayed together through the years. And I think it probably ended about 2010. So we were going very strong for seven years. And it definitely was worth my being pushed into going. And on the front of this book, we have some back there if you want to take a look at them. There is this sculpture. It's a metal sculpture. And this picture was taken at Sculpture Fest, which is in Woodstock every, I think it's August. It's either August or September. They have a huge piece of property. And people take their work. And it's displayed there. And this metal sculpture was created by me and Tracy and three other people. And it's called the Christie sculpture. And it's named after a young woman who was actually being treated by a friend of Tracy's. She was a therapist. And she went to a facility in Massachusetts to deal with her mental illness or depression. And they released her. And she should not have been released. And she ended up committing suicide. So her family had gathered some money. And they wanted to do something, something that she could be remembered by. So we created this sculpture. It was about eight feet tall. And it was on a wooden base. And there was a pulse that came up. And it was hollow. And then there was a rod that was attached to her one foot. And so she was like staked there. But what was cool was it would move so she could sort of windmill around. Unfortunately, some kids that must have been bored came along one time and threw her in the river. And luckily, she got stuck. So we were able to retrieve her. But we had to actually bolt her foot down so she doesn't move anymore. And this young woman, Christie, she did a lot of writing. And we had, we must have had some of her journals or something. And one quote that I really like that meant a lot to me. And it is now incorporated in the sculpture is it is only in the difficult places that we search for peace. And it is in the difficult places where peace matters most. I really like that a lot. She was very insightful. So in my life, since I became involved with Safeheart, I've had many, many different traumas. And the principles of Safeheart has helped me through that. I mean, from child abuse, incest, my brother who murdered my mother was being released from prison. I had a traumatic leg injury, loss of a job, and I used our over and over to heal. And it was working. My wife Ann, she was diagnosed with cancer in December of 2017. So we spent the year doing chemo and blood transfusions and blood work and it went on and on. And from the very beginning when we got that diagnosis, I used art to calm me. And it helped me find a little peace in the midst of all this awful and scary stuff. So we would always spend like all day, one day a week, at the hospital. So we would bring all this stuff. And I packed it all in my Wonder Woman backpack. And we went to the hospital. And I do art programming for the after-school program. So I would bring my own art stuff to the hospital. But I would also bring the kids' art. And I was putting together a show, art show for them. So I had all their paintings. And I had colored poster board. And I was putting it all together out in the waiting room of the cancer area. And all these different people would come by. And they'd come and talk to me. And they'd say, oh, what are you doing? And I'd tell them. And they liked to see the art. And it was very nice because I was able to get their mind off of the reason that they were there. Yeah, so that was nice. Unfortunately, and passed away the end of November. It was, to me, very fast, even though she was ill. Nobody expected that to happen at that time. But again, I used art to calm myself. I used music. In the beginning, I couldn't listen to many types of music. I could only listen to one Pandora radio station. But I would put that on. And it would calm me. And I would do art. And I actually brought a book with me in case anybody wants to look at it afterwards. I have been taking all the sympathy cards that I've got in the mail and some other cards during that time period. And using them as the centerpiece to a piece of art. So I would pull out the colors and the patterns and then create a little artistic piece. So I have a book that's all full now. And I'm on my second book. And it's been very helpful. So on and on it goes. Safe Art has helped me through so much. And through the traumatic abuse all the way to Ann's death. So it has been very helpful to me. Back in, I'm not sure, a few months ago, a woman from Montpelier stumbled upon our website somehow and called our admin assistant, Cleopatra. And said, oh, I'm a poet. I want to come and do a free workshop. And Cleopatra said, oh yeah, OK. So she did. She came. And there were about eight of us there. And this was just a couple months after Ann had passed. She, there was something about her. She was a very warm and welcoming. And it was at Safe Art. So I felt very safe in that space. And she did a couple prompts. And the second prompt is it was what lives in me. So I could have just sat there and wrote some superficial poem. But it took me a couple minutes. And when I thought about it, I said, there's really no point in doing that. That I should really be honest. And so I was. And this poem here is the result of that. And I have since incorporated the poem into a piece of art that you can see in the back of the room when we're done. This is called What Does Perch in the Soul? At this time and this place, I would say from my pained heart that nothing lives in me. But it's truly what it truly is, I would say, is emptiness. How could it not be emptiness when suddenly a dark, cruel hand ripped out the center of my heart? But that is not who I am. I am one who goes on and on. I might not like the path shown to me, but I take it anyway. If I walk that path silently and peacefully, my mind and body quiet. This is the moment. I can see with my mind's eye what is truly inside my heart and in my battered soul. Quietly and softly, something white rises from the muck. It is white and beautiful and feathered. It rises effortlessly on the softness of the breeze. It is in that moment that I truly know what does live in me. As our friend Emily Dickinson says, hope is a thing of feathers that perches in the soul. Thank you. I'd like to introduce my colleague, Cleopatra Griffin, who would like to speak to you about her experiences with Saifart. Something Mitch didn't mention in all of that is she currently works as one of our facilitators for our women's group. So she's very actively involved with now using her experiences and her story in helping others, which is kind of the whole part of Saifart and what we do. I have been an artist my whole life. I grew up making art and never really found a job that fit. It was really hard to find a place that felt comfortable. And when I came to Saifart, it was last year, a month after my brother passed away. And I was working this job where I was there eight to five every day and losing my mind. I was trapped in an office and I just felt like I couldn't escape. And the anxiety and the panic was becoming too much. And so I saw on Front Porch Forum, I think, a post that Saifart was looking for admin help. And I jumped on it and have been there ever since. It's such a welcoming community and space and healing space. And to know that what I've been doing my whole life making art has this other purpose, which is helping others and helping each other heal is just incredible. So we currently work with youth and women who have experienced trauma in their lives. And also just youth in general. A lot of kids come to make art with us, which is really wonderful. And we have partnerships with different schools in the area. And so we go into the schools and work with them. So I wanted to share another book that Saifart published is On Our Way, An Anthology. And it's writings from participants from 2000 to 2010. So it's all different young women, adult women, young men that have participated in some of our programs and then wrote poems. And it's just a really beautiful book. I'll start with this introduction by Mary Jean McKelvie, who is a psychotherapist here in Montpelier. When the past is fully understood, it no longer dictates our choices and beliefs. We can begin to take healthier charge of our lives. Saifart is a rare program dedicated to this principle and to the equally important element of sharing with other survivors that it is so critical to letting go of pain, whether in a group, on stage, through visual art, music, dance, or writing. When our stories are acknowledged as truth and met without judgment, we are finally on our way. The content of this anthology by Saifart participants who wanted their work published gives us a glimpse into both the impact of trauma and the newfound courage and pride that come during the journey toward recovery. So I picked a couple of poems that really stood out to me. I mean, they all do. They're incredible. But I will share this one. It's called Cutting Her Out, and it's by a 16-year-old girl. The cuts I make are deep and clean. I try to cut the hate out. It's still there. She's still there with the mean, hateful words. She snarls at me. Her words, stupid, insignificant, unwanted. Who could ever love you? Who could ever want someone like you? Your friends don't care. You're the naive kid with extra money. They don't care about you. And why would they? Look at you. And if they ever knew what you really are, they would see how pathetic, stupid, self-doubting, suicidal, insignificant you really are. What a waste of human being, you nothing. All of her words spinning around in the background of my life, the cutting got worse. But her words cut deeper than I could. The cutting stopped, but she didn't. The louder she got, I thought others would hear. The panic attack started. They got worse. The louder she got, there was no face I could put to her, only the voice coming from the darkness. She seemed undefeatable. I was tired, broken, and beaten down, trapped. I had never spoken of her. But one day I decided I was done. I unmasked her, named her. I took my power back. I shattered her. So that was shared by a 16-year-old. I like those, obviously. Here's another one. Titled Skeletons. I dreamt of yawning skeletons in my bed. Their bones clattering and clicking in their old joints, teeth grinding together in their hollow skulls. Their bones bleached white from the desert sun. They pressed against my body, yearning for their own missing flesh. Their nonexistent stomachs urged me to press my own against my spine, trying to trace my own bones in their place and hide my living flesh. I asked if I could become hollow, delicate beauty as they were. Their gaping eye sockets shook sadly with the remembrance of their beautiful selves that once lived. Before ravens and crows covered their purple bruised flesh, sunken valleys where curves of tissue should have been. Their own self-torture produced empty spaces, painful to live, but addicting to nourish their worn images, their body slipping through their hands like water, never caressed by their accomplishments. If they could have cried tears they would have, pressing me down, covering me with their bones, they held my body trying to remember the feeling of skin roughened from the sun, warm from sleep. They crooned in their mournful way, singing of treasuring something before it's gone. I ran my fingers over the curve of their skulls across their cheekbones and over their shoulders, sliding my fingers down their ribs. I could not help but wish for my own bones to show through as if I didn't have my own skin, yet they wished to have their own skin back, wishing they had not tried to dig their graves with their fingers. They kissed my flesh reverently, worshiping their own loss, their roughened bones scraped painfully against my skin. I wished to wake up from my dream where my skin would not hurt me and I would not wish for my own death. So it's interesting, I didn't read this book when I first started working there and have just spent so much time reading it recently and absorbing all of it and imagining these young people whose lives we've helped and it's really powerful and why we do what we do. Claire Pitcher, thank you for saying what I did forget about how I am a facilitator for the Healing Arts groups now. Back when I was a member of that first Healing Arts group, it definitely helped me and Anne and I became very involved as volunteers, we did a lot of community awareness raising events, we did a lot of art shows, we did a couple of big fundraisers. But the happiest day for me was when I was able to say yes to being on the board of Statefark, that I was able to say yes to be a facilitator of a Healing Arts group. Because I was on the other side of my trauma, it's changed, I used to get triggered maybe 10 times a day. Sometimes I would not be able to leave the house for days. And now I probably get triggered maybe once every four months. So it's an amazing, it's an amazing change. So I did wanna read just a couple things from this curriculum of courage. And this is, excuse me, and this is written by Tracy. Safe Arts Methods spring from the Latin root of the word education, education, which means to lead or draw out. We often define education as information that is given to us that we take in. While we do absorb facts into our marvelous brains, a true education pulls out of us what we have learned by experience and observation. Safe Art is not a didactic program. We do not lecture and we give few instructional handouts. We help people tap into knowledge they already possess and to create from the inside out. We lead discussions and interactive lessons. It cannot be overemphasized that Safe Art and any creatively expressive activity helps people move beyond their egos for a deeper connection with self with internal wisdom that gains a voice by the process of expression. Where does strength come from? Some say that it comes from trial, from trauma, from travail. Are we stronger at the broken places that have healed to paraphrase Ernest Hemingway? Certainly strength of character grows from facing challenges, not from complacency. And I'm going to share a poem here that's in this book. And we will end there and then I will open it up for questions if you have any that Cleopatra and I could answer. So this poem is called Forever Time and it's by a 45 year old woman and I just re-read it the other day and it actually sounded like something I would have written although I did not write it. The wind swirled and whipped and blew me away off my feet away from my soul in a dark place. Dark, safe for jagged streaks of lightning. Could it ever stop? Stop, stop, slowly, slowly, slowly the wind died down. The slow forever time began when nothing mattered nor did I know where I was. Where had I been? Where and when and why? Then everything became still, still and frozen in that forever time. Slowly again but slightly, slightly again but slowly. A gentle breeze began. A breeze to gather me together again. Warm, sweet, heavenly air. Drawing me in with it toward the future and the light. Thank you. Any questions? Yes. How do the people find you, especially the youth that's been struggling to encourage you or do you advertise at schools or just how do you get connected with the people who come to your workshop? I don't know what Clip had to answer that. She has more involvement in that. Youth-wise we have connections in a lot of the local schools. So they will reach out to us. They find us on our website. And also we've been getting referrals from the Court Diversion Program. Is there a fee? It depends. Most of what we do, we do on a sliding scale and we have a scholarship program. So if there is financial need, we make sure everybody gets the help that they would like. Next statue, Krispy, still in South Borotha? No, it's not in South Borotha. It's in Chelsea where the safe art offices are. Yeah, and it's still out front. I think I mentioned she's bolted now so they can't take her off. But she got kind of damaged. Originally the sculpture was like this, sort of jubilant or victorious. But now whatever happened, now her arm is sort of like that. But she's still there and she still looks great. There is a metal sculptor that is friends with Tracy and he helped her put it together and you can't see from far away. But the metal is brushed so he helped her brush it with, I don't know how that works, but it has a very cool, it almost gives it a 3D kind of feel when you look at it. She's really beautiful. She's even after the damage. She's like Mitch said, eight feet tall and stands out front of her office and studio space. Yeah. So you've mentioned visual art and poetry. Do other art forms as well? Yes. Yeah. Anywhere from music to dance, movement, yoga, we have community art spaces that we rent out at a very, very low price to community practitioners. So that's also an option. We do basically, I try to get in any creator possible to come and work with us and offer workshops. So we're open to all of the arts. And my personal love is collage and I love to work with paper. And it's of note for several years, Tracy sort of backed away from our programming. She wanted to write this book and do some other projects. She created a beautiful full dance, performance that was performed in Randolph. So she backed away a little bit and we didn't have anyone to run the youth programs at that point. So now we have a fabulous woman who has a lot of energy and we're back in the schools again and they do what's called a residency. So they go into a school for a week. They work, it's usually at the request of a specific teacher. It seems lots of times it's a health teacher. And they work for the whole week about doing whatever moves them. And at the end they do a performance in front of the whole school. And a lot of the stuff that's in this book is from that work. Thank you for having us. Thank you.