“The only thing new in the world is the history you don't know.” -- Harry Truman
Showing posts with label Democracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Democracy. Show all posts

Friday, October 15, 2021

What is the Vermont Way?

A fresh look at a remarkable place


Restless Spirits & 
Popular Movements
A Vermont History

“A definitive examination of how average people in one of the nation’s smallest states have influenced and continue to shape American history… A well-written and nuanced history of Vermont’s social movements.” - Kirkus Reviews


“a hard book to put down and 

when you do you keep on thinking…” - Melinda Moulton


a rollicking political and social history of Vermont…” 

- Sasha Abramsky


“…an engaging read that helps explain what makes Vermont Vermont.

- Seven Days


“an effective and invaluable learning tool…” - Jim DeFilippi


“A fascinating and energetic account of the history of Vermont…” - Susan DeMasi



“For readers new to Vermont history, this book will introduce key figures and important events that helped create the state they know today. For readers steeped in Vermont history, the book’s most rewarding parts will probably come in later chapters, where Guma draws from his decades of reporting to offer insights into some of the major political actors and movements from the late 1960s to the present.” 

Mark Bushnell, Vermont History



Available in bookstores and online


From Ethan Allen to Bernie Sanders, Vermont has forged a separate path as a small, independent state with a strong sense of how to preserve its basic traditions while changing with the times. Restless Spirits and Popular Movements revisits its unique story through movements and memorable people who have created the delicate balance of sovereignty and solidarity, political independence and mutual aid known as the Vermont Way. The journey features a memorable cast of characters. 

New illustrated & expanded paperback edition
From White River Press and The UVM Center for Research on Vermont
(sample pages)

Early Reviews

"Vermont has a rich history of humanity who have challenged the status quo and changed the course for the State and in many instances the entire country.  If one wonders how Vermont became what it is today — a trailblazer for human rights, climate, income equality, women's reproductive freedom, racial and judicial justice, etc. — read Greg Guma's book.  It is all there — with beautiful enticing words that weave together a picture of the Green Mountain State and the humans who scripted and sent forth the progressive movement.  It's a hard book to put down and when you do you keep on thinking .....it's a great read and a true assessment of the who, what, when and how Vermont's legacy of social change came to be the blueprint for change admired around the World." — Melinda Moulton, co-founder and CEO of Main Street Landing in Burlington


“Greg Guma has written a rollicking political and social history of Vermont, one of the most fascinating, and least written-about, states in the union. He takes readers on a big journey from the pre-revolutionary years through to Bernie Sanders' runs for the  presidency. In between, he introduces larger-than-life figures from the worlds of politics, religion, culture, journalism, industry and array of other areas. He brings to life great political battles in the early years of the Republic, including around Thomas Jefferson's agrarian vision of the country; struggles for regional dominance and relevance with neighboring states; union struggles; tussles between progressives and nativists over Vermont's identity; and the unique politics of a place that some have compared to the US's own version of Switzerland. The result is both a fun read and an authoritative read, delivered by a skilled writer who has immersed himself in Vermont life and politics for decades.” — Sasha Abramsky, journalist and author of The American Way of Poverty


“This book acts as an effective and invaluable learning tool for those of us who think we know the true history of the state of Vermont, as well as for those of us who know we don’t.” — Jim DeFilippi, author of Jesus Burned


2017 KINDLE EDITION: ORDER HERE
LIKE GREEN MOUNTAIN POLITICS ON FACEBOOK 
SOFT COVER EDITION (2021): VERMONT RESEARCH BOOKS

Many episodes have also been released on other websites, as well as in live presentations. The project also includes rare photos, dramatic stories and an episode from The Vermont Movie. Latest — Culture War in Bennington; Birth of the NPAs   2017 additions -- Cleaning up the World: Vermont's First Earth Day, Earth Day 1990: Making Peace with the Planet and Dark Shadows in Vermont's Past.  Also check out Class Struggle: From Socialism to the American Plan and How Traditions and Values Have Defined the Vermont Way (Green Mountain Noise, 2VR, Spring 2014) Publishing partners include VTDigger, Center for Global Research, Second Vermont Republic, ZNet, and Toward Freedom.   

PROGRESSIVE MOVEMENTS
Monograph available as PDF
What is the Vermont Way? The term has been used to describe everything from the traditional way to make maple syrup and smart farming in general to a political campaign agenda and the ability to make something out of almost nothing. Sometimes it extends into the phrase “the Vermont way of life.” When he left the Republican Party Jim Jeffords said, “Independence is the Vermont Way.” In her autobiography Consuelo Northrup Bailey, the first female attorney admitted to practice before the US Supreme Court and the first female lieutenant governor in the nation, said the character of Vermont was defined by “everyday, common, honest people who unknowingly salted down the Vermont way of life with a flavor peculiar only to the Green Mountains.”

"Serenade in Green"


Green Mountain Politics describes the state’s delicate dance of sovereignty and solidarity, independence and mutual aid. The subtitle refers to the focus on political, economic and social events, trends and personalities. Covering centuries, this transmedia project features unique stories, sketches of key figures, and original analysis that explains how the Vermont Way evolved. The following installments are available:

Dark Shadows in Vermont's Past 

The Parkway That Never Was
From The Vermont Movie, directed by Nora Jacobson
 This 5:53 film segment streams on this site and allows scrolling with audio

An illustrated print edition will be released in November 2021, with new insights about influential Vermonters like revolutionary leaders Matthew Lyon and Ethan Allen, Anti-Mason Governor William Palmer and feminist Clarina Nichols; railroad and marble tycoons, anti-slavery activists, major strikes and labor protests; Vermont-born Presidents Chester Arthur and Calvin Coolidge and progressive politicians James Burke and Ernest Gibson; intimate portraits of Governors Phil Hoff, Tom Salmon, Richard Snelling, and Madeleine Kunin, as well as Bernie Sanders, James Jeffords, and Howard Dean. Plus, the Vermonter who rescued America from McCarthy. 

Excerpts from Greg Guma's Dangerous Words and Maverick Chronicles are also available:

Subscribe to The Vermont Way for articles and event announcements. 
See more excepts at VTDigger.org

Video: Vermont Pastoral 

Photo Montage & Music by Greg Guma 

Saturday, January 9, 2021

Vermont: From Republic to State

After 14 years as an independent republic Vermont became the 14th US state and entered the union on March 4, 1791. Here are highlights from that post-revolutionary journey.

An essay adapted from Green Mountain Politics: Restless Spirits, Popular Movements, Greg Guma's book on the state’s evolution. 

Vermont emerged from the American Revolution in the best economic condition of any former colony. It had no state debts, and since the Continental Congress had refused to admit it as a member state, no responsibility for the national debt.

Its currency was relatively strong and a stream of settlers had begun to arrive. The estimated population jumped from around 20,000 in 1776 to 85,000 when a census was taken 15 years later. After issuing its own Declaration of Independence and holding a Constitutional Convention the independent state had held elections and begun to call itself the Republic of Vermont in early 1778.

In the western region, where the Allen family held the greatest sway, commercial ties were pursued with Quebec. Timber, potash and meat went through the Richelieu rapids to Canadian markets. On the eastern side people shipped their goods south, down the Connecticut River to the American states.

With land as a foundation the Allen family essentially ran the new republic through their agent Thomas Chittenden, who became the Vermont’s first governor long before it joined the United States.

A farmer and land speculator, possibly the first settler of what became Williston, Chittenden launched the Onion River Company with three Allen brothers. Many people resented their grip on the state. But Chittenden was popular with the voters, a practical leader who successfully balanced the factions groping for influence during negotiations with the British and the new Congress.

Despite his political gifts, however, repeated attempts to send delegates to the Continental Congress during the revolution were rebuffed. In fact, delegates were treated downright shabbily and felt they were forced to fight their neighbors as well as their enemies.

Letters from Chittenden to George Washington professed loyalty to the revolution. But they also made it clear that Vermont would change sides rather than be swallowed up. Disappointed with treatment by both Britain and the new nation’s Continental Congress, state government eventually called Vermont’s soldiers home, and the independent republic adopted a stance of neutrality while leading citizens continued to negotiate for permanent sovereignty.

In 1783 American and British representatives signed the Treaty of Paris. The map accompanying the agreement indicated that Vermont was outside the protective boundary of Britain’s Canada. But it wasn’t obligated to join the American states.

The Allens wanted to continue building commercial ties with Quebec. But economic interests in the east and southwest had different objectives. This group of land speculators, merchants, lawyers, and “Yorkers” began to openly challenge the state’s leading family and their hand-picked governor. In other words, outside interests wanted a greater share of Vermont land and resources for themselves. Rebellion and competition wore away at the Allens’ influence and holdings for years after independence was won.

Farmers and workers had their own concerns. They complained, for example, that Vermont had too many merchants, whom they blamed for draining the region’s wealth. Many also opposed the harsh tactics used by lawyers and sheriffs to foreclose on settlers. Through calculated, expensive legal proceedings encouraged by the state government, poor people were being forced deeper into debt.

Merchants and land speculators were doing well, but others were hit hard in a post-revolutionary depression. In response, some inhabitants returned to combat, confronting their new rulers just as they had their previous feudal overseers.

One memorable incident was the October 1783 raid on a creditor’s house in which a group of Bennington settlers seized notes, obligations and bonds. In November 1786 another band tried to close the courts of Windsor and Rutland counties, mainly in order to prevent lawsuits from moving forward.

The state also experienced its first Watergate-style scandal: Ira Allen was caught with his hand in the till. He had secured ownership of the Town of Woodbridge – now called Highgate – as a favor from Governor Chittenden. In 1789 the state Assembly investigated.

The outcome: Ira lost much of his influence, and Chittenden lost his first election in ten years. He was back in power a year later, however, and remained in office until shortly before his death in 1797.

The Jeffersonian wing of Vermont’s new power structure, originally led by the Allens, was weakened by such controversies. Leaders from other parts of the state meanwhile began to assert more influence. This shift was accompanied by a renewed move toward statehood.

New York needed more political allies in Congress, particularly in the Senate, and approached the Republic of Vermont. Once former enemies worked out mutually advantageous reasons to drop their past disputes and become friends, winning support from the US Congress didn’t turn out to be a problem.  

On January 10, 1791, the Vermont Convention on Ratification of the Constitution voted yes. Five weeks later, on February 18, the US Congress agreed to admit the region. The independent Republic of Vermont became the 14th US state and officially entered the union on March 4, 1791.

Buy the Book
At this point there were 85,539 people living in 185 towns, according to a general census. Some leaders tried to stack the electoral deck, pushing unsuccessfully to restrict voting rights to property owners. But as Andrew and Edith Nuquist put it in Vermont State Government and Administration, “The inhabitants of Vermont were restless spirits who, having escaped from their former confines, were more than willing to try new ideas and to rebel at restraints normally imposed by society.”

Ethan Allen eventually settled in Burlington and passed away in 1789. His brothers Ira, Levi and Ebenezer, the last of whom resettled in Quebec, continued to look for economic opportunities. A timber deal with Canada proved disastrous, however, and Ira’s dream of a canal around the Richelieu rapids led to a personally damaging international incident.

In 1795, Ira Allen went to London to secure support for the canal plan. The point of the project, at this point, was to improve his commercial position and help Britain defend Canada from France. But Allen was frustrated at the lukewarm response he received. He was also in need of money and moved on to Paris to purchase some guns, ostensibly for the state militia back home. Records suggest he actually cut a deal with the French to help bring the recent revolution there to Canada. 

Caught at sea by the British, Ira returned to France to obtain proof of his intentions. But the French also doubted his loyalty and threw him in jail for a year. When he finally returned to Vermont he was a broken man, outcast and in serious debt.

Ira Allen deeded his last property to his brother Heman in 1803, and then fled the state to avoid imprisonment. In 1814 he died a pauper in Philadelphia.

Sunday, August 30, 2020

A Progressive Censors Red Emma

September 3, 1909: Burlington Mayor stops Anarchist from speaking

James Burke, Burlington's first Progressive mayor, in 1906.

Geography made Burlington the fastest growing part of Vermont as early as the 1820s, when a canal at the southern end of Lake Champlain created a trade route from Canada to New York. Once railroad lines were added along the burgeoning waterfront, what became known as the Queen City emerged as the region’s transportation and business hub.

“In a commercial point of view,” crowed the Burlington Clipper newspaper, “Burlington is most favorably placed.”

What was true for commerce also held for immigrants. Waves of Irish, French Canadians, Italians, Jews and Germans rolled in. The effects were clearly felt by the turn of the century. Vermont remained a rock-ribbed Republican state, but an active working class emerged in Burlington and Democrats, albeit some of them prosperous “charter members” of the community, took control of City Hall.

In the years that followed Burlington hosted “progressive era” reforms like a municipally-owned electric company, public dock and restrooms, an attractive train depot with modern amenities, playgrounds for children, and a public wharf. A central figure during this period was James E. Burke, a Democrat first elected Mayor in 1903 and re-elected six times over the next 30 years.

A Catholic blacksmith and son of Irish immigrants from Canada, Burke began his political career when he was almost 50, becoming a champion of the poor, labor, and ethnic newcomers. After rising to prominence largely on the freedom to reach the public with his ideas, you might think he would cherish the right of dissent no matter who was speaking. Yet Burke sometimes revealed a tendency to drown out his opposition.

There was the night when the Masons visited the City Council to request tax exempt status on their Church Street property. Hamilton Peck, a former Republican mayor with whom Burke had battled over control of the Street Commission, represented the Masons. When he asked to speak, Burke rapped his gavel angrily and refused.

Assuming that he spoke for everyone, the mayor told the lawyer that they’d heard as much of his talk as they wanted. Peck accused Burke of denying his right to speak. A Board majority decided to give him five minutes.

“The mayor not being a mason,” Peck began. That was too much for Burke. “I resent that,” he interrupted, “be a gentlemen.” Peck continued, threatening a lawsuit in the process. Burke was defiant, virtually daring the Masons to file. Members in the audience stormed out in disgust.

Given his short fuse, it’s no wonder that Burke often found himself in legal battles. Luckily for Burlington, he was frequently sustained in court. That was the case with the Masons, who refused to pay their taxes until 1910, when the State Supreme Court ruled against them.

But his most infamous moment of intolerance came on September 3, 1909. In the midst of battles with corporate power, he used police power to deny the freedom to speak to a woman whose philosophy he abhorred.

Emma Goldman
Emma Goldman was one of the most famous radicals in the country, a forceful speaker who had come to Vermont to discuss “anti-militarism” and the truth about anarchism. In Barre and Montpelier, although some people did object, she found public venues. Her audiences paid 25 cents for admission and were certainly educated and entertained, if not persuaded.

The night before her Burlington engagement at City Hall, however, Mayor Burke sent a telegram to Montpelier telling her that the auditorium wasn’t for rent, even though her manager had put down a deposit. On September 2, the Burlington Free Press printed the mayor’s statement:

“Announcement having been made that Miss Emma Goldman, apostle of anarchy, would speak at City Hall Friday night, I wish to say that she will not be allowed to preach any of her un-American doctrines in any building owned by the City of Burlington; and I would also request that the proprietors of all other halls refuse to let her have them for the above-named purpose, and I believe it is about time that the American people should insist that Miss Goldman while representing her anarchist teachings, should not be allowed to address public audiences.”

Burke’s hard-line position confused the city’s small Jewish community. The mayor was popular among them, but Goldman was, to be sure, a well-known Jew. Some people wanted to see her. Reacting quickly, her manager Ben Reitman made emergency arrangements for Goldman to speak at Isaac Perelman’s Hall on the corner of Ceder and LeFountain Streets. On the day of the talk he distributed red posters around town.

Goldman’s topic was supposed to be “Anarchism and What It Really Stands For.” She wanted to respond directly to the mayor’s attack. To draw the line more clearly, the following words were emblazoned on the publicity flyers:

IS THERE FREE SPEECH AND FAIR PLAY IN BURLINGTON?

Most storekeepers refused the flyers or tossed them out. But a large billboard with the same message was propped against the fence in front of the Unitarian Church.

Ben Reitman
At 7 p.m. “Red Emma” and Reitman arrived at the hall. A large crowd was already inside. Burke was outside with two policemen. When Goldman tried to enter, the officers took up positions in front of the door and Burke made a speech. She was forbidden to enter, he said. Attacking her politics again, he added that citizens were angry and at least one merchant in the neighborhood feared violence.

Goldman and Reitman, known as "king of the hobos," had seen this kind of hostility and disregard for speech rights in other places. Deciding to withdraw, they asked if Reitman could enter alone to address the audience as a member of the New York Free Speech Committee. Burke refused, ordering both of them “in the name of peace, of society and of law and order” not to speak anywhere in his city.

The next day the anarchists departed for Massachusetts and the mayor proudly claimed that he had done his duty – protecting Burlington from un-American ideas and “treasonable utterances.” 

It wasn’t one of Burke’s more progressive moments.

Friday, July 24, 2020

The Decentralist Way: Questioning Authority and the Power
of Elites

By Greg Guma

"Centralization in our social, economic, and political systems has given rise to a deep sense of powerlessness among the people, a growing alienation throughout society, the depersonalization of vital services, excessive reliance on the techniques of management and control, and a loss of great traditions." 

In the late 1970s, an alliance of the political left and right, led by both Democrats and Republicans, created a “third way” called the Decentralist League of Vermont. It was convened by Robert O’Brien, a state senator who had just lost the Democratic primary for governor, and John McClaughry, a Republican critical of his Party’s leadership. Each invited some allies for a series of meetings to forge a new political vision. 
     "We oppose political and economic systems which demand obedience to the dictates of elite groups, while ignoring abuses by those who operate the controls," its founding statement announced. The goal was to “speak out for the interests of persons not protected by rigged deals.” Today its principles and proposals resonate anew in a global atmosphere of resurgent authoritarianism.

     Vermont had been fertile ground for “outside the box” thinking before. To start, it didn’t immediately join the new United States after the War of Independence, remaining an independent republic until 1791. Almost half a century later it was the first US state to elect an Anti-Mason governor, during a period when opposition to elites and secret societies was growing.
     The Anti-Mason movement — which also elected a Pennsylvania governor and ran a candidate for president in 1832– lasted only a decade. Most of its political leaders eventually joined either the short—lived Whip Party or the more durable Republicans. Along the way, however, it exposed the dangers of special interest groups and secret oaths, and on a practical level, initiated changes in the way political parties operated — notably nominating conventions and the adoption of party platforms, reforms soon embraced by other parties.
     Early in its history, Vermont also had direct experience with another type of challenge to centralized power— nullification. The general idea is that since states created the federal government they also have the right to judge the constitutionality of federal laws — and potentially refuse to enforce them. It happened when American colonists nullified laws imposed by the British. Since then states have occasionally used nullification to limit federal actions, from the Fugitive Slave Act to unpopular tariffs

     In November 1850 the Vermont legislature joined the club, approving a so-called Habeas Corpus Law that required officials to assist slaves who made it to the state. The controverial law rendered the Fugitive Slave Act effectively unenforceable, a clear case of nullification. Poet and abolitionist John Greenleaf Whittier praised Vermont's defiance, but President Millard Fillmore threatened to impose federal law through military action, if necessary. It never came to that.
     Even a short-lived political movement can produce new thinking and unexpected change. In 1912, for example, the new Progressive Party inspired by Theodore Roosevelt when he lost the Republican nomination to William Howard Taft led to the election of Woodrow Wilson. Roosevelt left the Party, but its work continued under Robert La Follette. Although La Follette’s run for president in 1924 netted only 17 percent, he won Wisconsin, his home state, and successful reforms were implemented there.
     In recent times, Vermont has been a testing ground for political, economic and environmental thinking that challenges conventional wisdom. But the ex-urbanite professionals and members of the counterculture who arrived to help make that possible built on a solid foundation. Questioning of illegitimate, centralized power began before the American Revolution, as early settlers in the Green Mountains organized to declare themselves free of British rule and exploitation by land speculators. It continued with the jailhouse congressional re-election of Matthew Lyon in defiance of President Adams and the Alien and Sedition Acts, resistance to an embargo of Britain and the War of 1812, rejection of slavery and Masonic secrecy, and Town Meeting defeat of the Green Mountain Parkway during the New Deal. The pattern reflects a libertarian streak that has resisted the excesses of both liberal and conservative leadership.
     One key reason is localism, a long cherished Vermont value. Even when Gov. Deane Davis, a conservative Republican, backed a state land use law in the late 1960s, he chose to call it “creative localism.” Town Meeting exerts a powerful enduring influence, both practical and symbolic. A form and reminder of direct democracy, it holds out hope that self-government remains possible in the age of powerful administrative states. The stakes may be overstated at time, but the use of this forum – in some cases the only one available – can be a form of self-reliance and self-determination reminiscent of the early Jeffersonian impulse.

Re-orienting the Spectrum

     In a similar spirit, the group of Vermonters who launched an alliance in 1976 aimed at decentralizing political and economic power. Invited by Bob O’Brien, I acted as secretary and helped to craft its Statement of Principles.
     That Fall, Bernie Sanders made his second run for Governor as a Liberty Union candidate and called for the break up of big banks. The winner was Republican businessman Richard Snelling, who defeated Employment Commissioner Stella Hackel after a fractious primary season. But Jimmy Carter became President and soon appointed Hackel as Director of the US Mint. According to a March 28, 1977 article by UPI, the Decentralist League was officially launched in Montpelier with a press conference and had 12 initial public signatories. The plan was not to become another political party, the press coverage said, but to "speak out for the interests of persons not protected by rigged deals."
     Charter members included McClaughry of Kirby; Sen. O'Brien of Orange County; Sen. Melvin Mandigo, a Republican representing Essex-Orleans; Rep. William Hunter, a Democrat from Weathersfield; John Welch of Rutland, who sought the 1976 GOP nomination for U.S. Senate; and Frank Bryan, a UVM professor. Also on the eclectic list, I was identified as a magazine editor and activist from Burlington, joining former Democratic party vice-chairman Margaret Lucenti from Barre; James Perkins of Sheffield, co-chair of the Vermont Caucus for the Family; William Staats of Newfane, founder of the Green Mountain Boys; Martin Harris of Sudbury, leader of the National Farmers Organization; and John Schnebley Jr. of Townshend, who ran in the 1976 Democratic primary for the U.S. House.
     As I had written in Decentralism & Liberation in the Workplace, a July 1976 essay published in response to the US Bicentennial celebrations, Decentralism involves participatory democracy and worker ownership, home rule and neighborhood assemblies, regional self-sufficiency in food and energy, and voluntary inter-community alliances. Through efforts at both the industrial and local political levels, it can move us toward a social libertarian culture that respects the traditions of freedom and independence in America's past, and that adds to this heritage a more positive vision of human nature, ethical and ecological tools, and an internationalist perspective.
     The basic purpose of the League, McClaughry argued at the time, was to "re-orient the political spectrum so that people begin to see issues in terms of power widely dispersed -- close to them in communities, and power centralized -- in large institutions over which they have no control."
     Bryan and McClaughry continued to explore the concept and Vermonters' attraction to decentralism in The Vermont Papers: Recreating Democracy on a Human Scale. “God-given liberties, hostility to the central power, whatever it may be," they wrote in 1990, "their attachment to their towns and schools and local communities, their dedication to common enterprise for the common good – all these have been among the most cherished Vermont traits, the subject of countless eulogies of Vermont tradition over the years."
     Although the League lasted only a few years -- a casualty of Reagan-era polarization -- it did identify a set of core beliefs, priorities and policies that could unite those who find the current national and global order unsustainable and dangerous. In Burlington, one concrete legacy was the creation of Neighborhood Planning Assemblies. Taking aim at centralized power and wealth, the League asserted that decentralizing both, where and whenever possible, is the best way to preserve diversity, increase self-sufficiency, and satisfy human needs.

     The League’s founding principles, released in March 1977, resonate anew in the current global atmosphere of resurgent authoritarianism.

Decentralist League of Vermont
Statement of Principles

In a free and just society all men and women will have the fullest opportunity to enjoy liberty, achieve self-reliance, and participate effectively in the political and economic decisions affecting their lives. Wealth and power will be widely distributed. Basic human rights will be protected. The principle of equal rights for all, special privileges for none, will prevail.
     When economic and political power is centralized in the hands of a few, self-government is replaced by rigid and remote bureaucracies, the independence of each citizen is threatened, and the processes of freedom and justice are subverted. Centralized power is the enemy of individual liberty, self-reliance, and voluntary cooperation. It tends to corrupt those who wield it and to debase its victims.
     The trend toward centralization in our social, economic, and political systems has given rise to a deep sense of powerlessness among the people, a growing alienation throughout society, the depersonalization of vital services, excessive reliance on the techniques of management and control, and a loss of great traditions.
     Decentralists share with “conservatives” repugnance for unwarranted governmental interference in private life and community affairs. We share with “liberals” an aversion to the exploitation of human beings. We deplore, however, conventional “liberal” and “conservative” policies which have concentrated power, ignored the importance of the human scale, and removed decision making from those most directly affected.
     Decentralists thus favor a reversal of the trend toward all forms of centralized power, privileged status, and arbitrary barriers to individual growth and community self-determination. We oppose political and economic systems which demand obedience to the dictates of elite groups, while ignoring abuses by those who operate the controls. We believe that only by decentralization will we preserve that diversity in society which provides the best guarantee that among the available choices, each individual will find those conditions which satisfy his or her human needs.
     Decentralists believe in the progressive dismantling of bureaucratic structures which stifle creativity and spontaneity, and of economic and political institutions which diminish individual and community power.
     We support a strengthening of family, neighborhood and community life, and favor new forms of association to meet social and economic needs.

We propose and support:

-- Removal of governmental barriers which discourage initiative and cooperative self-help

-- Growth of local citizen alliances which strengthen self-government and broaden participation in economic and political decisions

-- Widespread ownership of productive industry by Vermonters and employees

-- Protection of the right to acquire, possess and enjoy private property, where the owner is personally responsible for its use and when this use does not invade the equal rights of others

-- Rebuilding a viable and diverse agricultural base for the Vermont economy, with emphasis on homesteading

-- A decent level of income for all, through their productive effort whenever possible, or through compassionate help which enhances their dignity and self-respect

-- Reshaping of education to promote self-reliance, creativity, and a unity of learning and work

-- A revival of craftsmanship in surroundings where workers can obtain personal satisfaction from their efforts

-- The use of technologies appropriate to local enterprise, and which increase our energy self-sufficiency

-- Mediation of disputes rather than reliance on regulations and adversary proceedings

     This decentralist program implies a de-emphasis of status, luxury, and pretense, and a new emphasis on justice, virtue, equality, spiritual values, and peace of mind.

       Decentralism will mean a rebirth of diversity and mutual aid, a new era of voluntary action, a full appreciation of our heritage, an affirmation of meaningful liberty, and a critical awareness of Vermont’s relationship to the rest of the nation and to the world.
   
Greg Guma is the Vermont-based author of Dons of Time, Uneasy Empire, Spirits of Desire, Big Lies, and The People’s Republic: Vermont and the Sanders Revolution. He helped to write the Decentralist League's Statement of Principles and led a successful campaign for neighborhood assemblies in Burlington. 

Monday, October 22, 2018

Fragile Paradise: Sixties Bennington


Part One

The newsroom was a large, open bullpen filled with manual typewriters and competing conversations. At one end a picture window loomed over a picaresque main drag in the heart of the village. At the other, this side of the swinging door to production, Editor-in-Chief Tyler Resch worked over our copy. In a corner, the teletype cranked AP reports onto a long roll of yellow paper that spooled down to the floor.


During my first week on the job at the Bennington Banner, in early December 1968, Richard Nixon was back in Washington selecting his cabinet. Vietnam peace talks were stalling in Paris and the Defense Department called up another 33,000 young men to fight the war. That brought the total to half a million troops. My beats in southern Vermont were less momentous – district court, local schools and the village trustees.


 

Video Preview: A Fragile Paradise

A few days on the job, I met Resch at a school board meeting. He drew a crude diagram identifying the people around the table — and then left. It would be sink or swim. But as luck would have it, a political storm was brewing. A new high school had been built in the blush of a progressive educational era. It was also at the hub of Bennington’s pain. Its alma mater, “The Impossible Dream,” turned out to be prophecy. An idealistic plan for local education was about to be derailed by a repressive backlash.


After the school superintendent resigned a dispute had developed over who would replace him as acting chief. The elementary school board wanted Assistant Superintendent George Sleeman. The supervisory union, which included representatives of both the elementary and high school boards, wasn’t as sure.


On the surface it looked like a minor bureaucratic fracas, a question of who could sign checks and make decisions until a permanent chief was selected. But it was actually part of a long-running cultural clash over the fundamental direction of education and community life.


Apart from a two-week “wilderness” experience before college, my life in Vermont had begun six months earlier with the American Film Academy, which brought several of us to the area — and indirectly led to my marriage to a young woman from Shaftsbury. 


I was 21 at the time, just graduated from Syracuse University with a degree in Mass Communications. Things flowed from there through local education, politics and the counterculture, and took me on an intense personal journey, from living an “alternative” life, at least at night, while daily witnessing a slow-moving culture war, then a doomed revolt at the college, before taking up public service as a counselor and job developer. 


In the end, conflict with the same school board conservatives I had covered for the newspaper two years earlier led to my departure — and a promotion that opened up new opportunities. 



Part Two

A Light Show at the Paradise

A few months after arriving in June 1968 with other recruits to the American Film Academy, an independent media company, three of us were asked by three young Republicans — John Williams, Harvey Carter and Marshall Witten —  to produce a multi-media light show for a state GOP meeting at the Paradise motel in Bennington. 


It was a strange project and the reaction was less than enthusiastic. But afterward, Liz Dwyer wrote such a scathing article for the Bennington Banner that David Kelso and I felt honor bound to reply — in a long letter to the editor printed in early October. Although we viewed ourselves as creative entrepreneurs — in my case, that included producing ads for 1968 Republican candidates — others saw us as evidence of an unwelcome hippie invasion.


“As AFA employees, we are upset most about the glib manner in which our organization is maligned by people who do not understand our work and are afraid to inquire about it,” we wrote in response. “We are teacher, students, and artists. We work with over 50 high schools and colleges in running film courses and societies. We are incorporated and work in harmony with the major film companies. We do not circulate underground or low-life films, but general release work. In fact, we are now supplying the films for the YMCA film program.”


By then, David and I had also been hired temporarily by The Prospect School. But I opted to leave when the credentialed teachers expected from England finally got their visas. Less than two months later, however, I was hired by the Banner and found myself working with Liz, the editorial page editor who had panned our Paradise light show. We became great friends. Considering our letter to the editor, I’m still amazed by their openness. 


My new job included beats like local education, Village government and the courts, as well as running the darkroom. I also wrote and designed many weekend features, and in Fall 1969, had a weekly editorial page column called “Polarities in Our Time.” 




Part Three 
  
Talking Black Power

Early in my time at the Banner, Rev. Edward Geyer, the black rector of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, addressed the annual interfaith dinner at Mt Anthony Country Club. That February 1969 talk raised some eyebrows in the room. Geyer began with a reading of satirical Tom Lehrer lyrics about hypocrisy, and then dove into black power, student revolt, and the rocky path to brotherhood. 


“The development of a new mind-set among our youngsters has led them to expose the myths of American life,” he said as the establishment audience nervously nibbled desert. “All men are not treated equally. All men are not given comparable access to higher education.”


About the challenges facing Black youth, he explained, “they want peace at home and peace abroad. They shudder at the thought of inheriting a world subject to instantaneous nuclear annihilation. They are dismayed by the hypocrisy which pervades our culture... From this cultural milieu has come the anguished cry for ‘black power.’ The term ‘black power’ has rung like the peal of church bells from one end of America to the other.”


Educational Inspirations


My first Saturday feature for the Banner presented The Prospect School, where I had worked briefly the previous year with David Kelso. Another looked at a Title III program that combined eye-hand-mind activities with the regular curriculum, and led to a grant to produce a film. 


Still another innovative program I followed closely — influenced by State Education Commissioner Harvey Scribner and his Vermont Design for Education — was DUO, a service learning initiative launched by Peter Smith, who soon founded CCV and later became a Republican Lt. Governor and Congressman. At Bennington College, I saw a related higher-education approach - the non-resident term. 


These programs inspired my own efforts, while working for Bennington-Rutland Opportunity Council and statewide for Champlain Valley Work & Training, to develop experience-based education and credentialing for para-professionals. 


But other forces were also at work in public education. Prominent among them was 
Assistant School Superintendent George Sleeman, who had a brother named Richard. He was a leading local conservative, chaired the elementary school board, held an administrative job at a local college, and supervised the local property assessments. The family, which owned more rental property than anyone else in the area, had strong support among the local working class. 


On the other hand, the village was literally surrounded by another legal entity, the Town of Bennington, a growing suburbia populated by more liberal professionals. 
I was witnessing a struggle for power between two factions – working class traditionalists and middle-class modernists.


Beyond resentment of Bennington College, the traditionalists disliked the “modernists” because of the progressive agenda they had imposed in the construction and curriculum of the new high school. Still, their deepest antipathy was reserved for the state’s bureaucratic establishment, particularly the commissioner of education, Harvey Scribner.


A no-nonsense teacher from Maine, Scribner had come to Vermont after presiding over the integration of black children into white schools as Teaneck, New Jersey’s school superintendent. In the 1970s, he went on to become chancellor of New York City’s school system during its turbulent shift toward local control. But to Vermont conservatives in the late 1960s, Scribner represented the heavy hand of the state. 


During my second week on the job, he made a fateful decision that turned the traditionalists’ simmering hatred into an open feud with bitter long-term consequences. 
To break the stalemate, Scribner — usually a proponent of local control – exercised his authority to merge Bennington’s Supervisory Union with an adjacent board and appoint its superintendent as head of a new “super district.” 


George Sleeman could keep his job, but his promotion had been blocked by a state dictate. His allies were stunned and his brother was hopping mad.


Welcome to Carrigan Lane


My first investigative expose, on Memorial Day weekend in 1969, was titled “Welcome to Carrigan Lane.” Published as a Saturday “broadside” feature page — a counterpoint to that day’s front page parade photo spread — it revealed one of Bennington’s hidden pockets of extreme poverty and featured pictures of grotesque living conditions – broken pipes, lack of running water, roofs with gaping holes, un-insulated walls, and all manner of hazards that endangered children.


The article let the poor tenants speak for themselves. It also pointed to why such conditions had been allowed to fester for so long: Bennington had no housing codes.


The response was public outrage and sufficient pressure to force village officials to act. A study committee was formed, and decided that minimum standards and effective enforcement were essential solutions. Its most influential member became David Putter, a friend from Syracuse — and part of the American Film Academy group — who had become a legal aid clerk.


It would take a few years for the practical impacts to be felt.  But public exposure and persistent followup had sparked a local reform movement with the potential to improve local living conditions.


Phil Hoff’s Struggles


That fall, I met the former governor, Phil Hoff, while covering a local anti-Vietnam war demonstration headlined by Harvey Carter, then a young Republican legislator. A year before, Hoff had leapt into the national spotlight as the first Democratic governor to break with President Johnson over the Vietnam War. In June, after Robert Kennedy was assassinated, he had delivered a moving speech to the Vermont General Assembly.


When the Democrats gathered in Chicago in 1968, Hoff’s name circulated as a “protest” candidate for vice president. But after three terms as governor in a tumultuous period, he was worn down by political struggles and did not pursue it.


That summer, when someone fired into the home of Reverend David Johnson, a black minister who had come to the rural town of Irasburg from California, the police had focused on the victim and charged him with adultery. Johnson’s alleged crime, apparently, was sharing a couch with a white woman.


Hoff called for an investigation and discovered that the state police knew the identity of the shooter — but didn’t go after him. He also realized that when the Public Safety Commissioner refused to discipline his staff, there was nothing he could do about it.


In 1970, Hoff returned to the political arena, but lost a run for the U.S. Senate to incumbent Republican Winston Prouty. The main reason, he confided years later, was his civil rights activism, particularly sponsorship of the Vermont-New York Youth Project, which brought Black teenagers up from New York to work and play with White Vermonters.


“It was enormously successful for the participants,” he insisted. “But it wasn’t well understood, and all the latent racism began to emerge. There’s no question it defeated me in the Senate race.”


Capturing the Campus Mood 


Quadrille, the Bennington College magazine, had been edited for several years by Laurence Hyman, son of writer Shirley Jackson and literature professor Stanley Edgar Hyman. But Hyman wanted to make films and resigned in 1970.


Succeeding him as Publications Director, I edited just one issue, but it proved to be unique in format and and scope, and combined both student and alumni news. Assembled in early fall it includes feature articles, lecture excerpts, recent artwork, conversations on the draft and women’s liberation, and expert reports on the emerging environmental crisis and organic gardening.


In the opening for the feature section, I offered some observations, including a quote from Kurt Vonnegut, who was Bennington’s commencement speaker in 1970. His address that warm June day appeared soon afterward in his essay collection, Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons. I remember well skimming various drafts of the speech before his visit, not to mention my own encounter with the author of some of my favorite books. 


The previous Spring had seen the first Earth Day activities in Vermont and elsewhere, an event I had covered for the Banner. But Quadrille reflected a more urgent mood on campus — except for its exclusion of The Plan.


A radical proposal for change by students and faculty, The Plan was being suppressed by the administration. This was not surprising, since it argued that school’s growth should end, called for the end of the Development Office and election of the president, and envisioned an organic community in which teacher-students and student-teachers worked together as equals.


By the time Quadrille appeared, I was in the middle of the fight.


To be continued...


For more on Bennington’s educational struggle, read Waving the Flag in a Culture War