I Held My Breath

On Wednesday, April 20, I got an alert on my phone from the New York Times that there would be a verdict in the Derek Chauvin trial. For the first time in a long time, we gathered our children around the television. For more than an hour, we all watched the seal of the state of Minnesota and listened to analysis and predictions about what was to come. We talked about the reality of systemic racism, and we shared with Our Boys about what we thought would be another utter disappointment. Finally, the camera pulled back as Judge Peter A. Cahill returned to the courtroom. 

As Judge Cahill began to read the verdicts, I prepared myself to hear the words "not guilty" three times. Even though the jury returned quickly (deliberating for just over ten hours), and several of the talking heads in the previous hour of television offered that this meant "guilty" verdicts, I was skeptical at best. A part of me was hopeful, but the pragmatic part of my consciousness was getting louder and louder as I watched the judge begin to speak. 

"We, the Jury, in the above-entitled matter as to count one, Unintentional Second Degree Murder While Committing a Felony, find the defendant Guilty." I was stunned. And in my mind, I still expected two "not guilty" verdicts for the next two counts. 

"We, the Jury, in the above-entitled matter as to count two, Third Degree Murder Perpetrating an Eminently Dangerous Act, find the defendant Guilty." I didn't believe it. In my head, there was no way they would find him guilty on all three counts. 

"We, the Jury, in the above-entitled matter as to count three, Second Degree Manslaughter, Culpable Negligence Creating an Unreasonable Risk, find the defendant Guilty." I was shocked. I exhaled. 

I didn't expect one guilty verdict, let alone three. I didn't expect to see Derek Chauvin leave the courtroom in handcuffs. I didn't expect that what I thought about this trial would prevail in a court of law. 

Before the verdicts were read, there was still the probability (not the possibility) in my mind that what I believed to be justice would not be served. Despite the fact that there was bystander footage of the incident, I was not at all convinced. There have been far too many BIPOC people who have lost their lives at the hands of law enforcement. In some of these deaths, charges have not even been brought. Further, if charges were filed, the cases did not end with the word "guilty." 

There is much more work to do to dismantle systemic racism in our country. There is much more work to do to dismantle systemic racism in Vermont. There is much more work to do to dismantle systemic racism in Caledonia County. Perhaps this verdict can further commit us to continue this work, demanding equity for our BIPOC brothers and sisters. 

It is not lost on me that I was holding my breath voluntarily while waiting to hear the verdict in a case where Mr. Floyd stopped breathing at the hands of Mr. Chauvin. 

White allies, we still have so much work to do. 

Photo courtesy of www.mspmag.com

I'm Sorry

I remember being in college and one of those Top Ten Lists of things came out. Mind you, this was not via e-mail, because in the mid-90s, when I was in college, e-mail was not a thing. So on a physical piece of paper, somewhere, I saw a list of what someone thought the hardest things to say out loud were. "I'm sorry" was at the top, if not the top of the list. 

I'll be honest, it's hard for me to say it sometimes as well. And the reality is, we all make mistakes—all of us. I often say to folks I work with since I'm the one who does the morning routine with Our Children, if I can get through that stressful time of the day without blowing it, I feel like it's going to be a great day! There are plenty of mornings that at least one of the Boys in our house, myself included, makes a mistake in the great rush to get out the door on time. My hope when it comes to mistakes is not to make the same mistake twice. 

While it is incredibly difficult to apologize to someone else, given how vulnerable you have to be to do so, it is also so life-giving to the person who receives it. It is humanizing. It is simple and profound all at the same time. An apology in and of itself does not always rectify the situation, but it is the beginning of the healing process. 

With that in mind, I read with deep sadness this week that Windsor (Virginia) Police Chief Rodney Riddle said that Army Lieutenant Caron Nazario does not deserve an apology for what happened to him at the hands of Chief Riddle's police officers. Mr. Nazario was stopped for allegedly not having a visible rear license plate. In the subsequent encounter with police officers, he was pepper-sprayed, pulled from his car, and handcuffed on the ground. 

Once the officers confirmed there was a temporary cardboard license plate inside the rear window, Mr. Nazario was released without even a citation. However, the officers can be heard on the video telling Mr. Nazario to keep quiet about the traffic stop under the threat of facing more charges. The officers involved did not apologize for their actions during the video. 

In this case, one of the officers, Joe Gutierrez, was fired recently after a body cam video of the incident went viral. In the words of Chief Riddle, "I've lost my confidence in him [Gutierrez] to be able to effectively engage this community." Further, when asked about Officer Gutierrez's verbal exchanges with Mr. Nazario, the chief said that's "not how it's done... That was inexcusable. It made me mad." 

Sure sounds to me like Mr. Nazario deserves an apology. Yet, sadly, this is where we are in our world. If Chief Riddle was to apologize, it would be admitting guilt. Since Mr. Nazario has filed a federal lawsuit alleging excessive force and racial profiling, an apology would impact that lawsuit. Still, I'm left to wonder why the officers on the scene did not apologize once they located the temporary license plate inside the rear window. 

There is only a brief video of the encounter. I'm not certain what happened before it or after it. What I've seen (and read) sure seems to be worthy of an apology. If an officer has been fired, and in Chief Riddle's own words, there were parts of the encounter that were "inexcusable," isn't that worthy of an apology? Wouldn't that be the human thing to do? 

We teach in our homes and in our schools, you apologize when you're wrong, and you make a mistake. It is a lesson that is lifelong. It is a lesson that applies to everyone. 

My worry, in this case, is that there have been no apologies to Mr. Nazario yet because law enforcement does not think they're wrong. My worry is that despite the video, there will be justification for the actions the police took. My worry is that it's another example of systemic racism. 

OK, so this happened in the other state in our nation that starts with a "v," Virginia. Not sure if this is possible here in the Green Mountain State? I offer you the following data from Stephanie Seguino, a professor at the University of Vermont. According to a VT Digger article from February of this year: "Black drivers were more likely to be stopped, searched, or arrested than white Vermonters in 2019 - even though searches of Black drivers had a lower 'hit rate' of finding contraband." 

Yes, an apology is necessary. But it's the first of many steps we need to take to help our non-white brothers and sisters feel human in a country that does not consistently show that we value them. 

It's not enough, not nearly enough, but it is a place to start. 

Please

On Friday, I received my second dose of the Moderna vaccine. There was a sense of relief after my fifteen minutes of waiting were done, and I walked out of the Walgreens pharmacy. That feeling was cut short when I observed a crowd of people, somewhere between six and eight of them, emerge from a restaurant, all without masks. Now admittedly, I am not good at ascertaining the ages of people, and still, from my perspective, they did not appear to be in an age band that would have been fully vaccinated, plus the two weeks from the final dose.

This past week was the most disruptive for us in St. Johnsbury than any other time since we've returned to school this year. Between a Health Department investigation, child care shortages, adults receiving the vaccine (and feeling the side effects), and just normal absences, there were three days this past week when we could not open our school because we did not have enough human beings to safely be with our children. We've seen some of the highest case counts in Caledonia County recently, with 194 new cases in the past fourteen days (VDH Dashboard - 4/3/21). That is the third-highest fourteen-day count in the state, behind Chittenden and Rutland counties.

We are in a very precarious position as a state. The vaccine is literally within reach, and yet, the number of cases continues to rise. Positive cases, even if they don't result in serious illness, or hospitalization are still incredibly impactful on communities. Our district fell victim this week to a confluence of events, one of which by itself would have been a challenge, but with each additional hurdle, our carefully constructed plan to have our students in school crumbled.

School leaders in other districts across the state are seeing this as well. We want to have our children in school. We know this is what our families want. It is what we want as educators. And yet, in St. Johnsbury, we could not do that this past week.

Since I'm not a "real" doctor, I turn to those who have advanced training in medicine and public health for ways to guide us forward. Dr. Mark Levine, our Commissioner of Public Health, was quoted Friday as saying, "My optimism is for the future. The future is very near. But when it comes to the present, frankly, I am very concerned." In a recent commentary in VTDigger, Anne Sosin, a Policy Fellow at The Nelson A. Rockefeller Center at Dartmouth College noted: "Rising case counts also threaten Vermont's more immediate goal of returning more students to classrooms in April. Growing infection rates may not only shift the state into a higher community transmission threshold but may also make for a less stable return to classrooms."

It feels like there's a disconnect between what we want for our schools (students learning in-person) and policies that allow members of multiple households to gather, unmasked in restaurants. It feels confusing to me. And the consequences matter. They did for us this week, and it put a huge burden on our families.

We are all yearning for better days. We are all hopeful to find a return to "normal," which hopefully will mean we serve each other better than we did before this pandemic began more than a year ago. We all want to be able to travel, be with loved ones, and bask in the small joys that have been taken from us in the name of public health.

We see very promising news on the horizon for young people when it comes to a vaccine. We see the possibilities that mean we can attend outdoor events together. We see a future that looks very different than what we are experiencing and living right now.

Please continue to wear your masks. Please stay six feet from others. Please commit to public health. Please help us keep schools open. 

Photo courtesy of www.ocdsocal.org