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My record on workers’ rights, organized labor, and what being pro-labor requires after the campaign ends.

For the past two years, I have served as one of the co-chairs of the Working Vermonters Caucus in the Vermont Legislature. The idea behind the caucus is pretty simple. Bring legislators together with the people who represent Vermont workers. Listen to what they’re seeing in workplaces across the state. Ask what workers need from us. And then ultimately try to turn those conversations into worker-friendly legislation.

I can count on one hand the number of legislators who regularly showed up. At times, I couldn’t even get members of the political left into the room.

That experience has taught me considerably more about our relationship with organized labor than any Labor Day speech ever could. We are very comfortable calling ourselves pro-labor. We are very comfortable identifying the political left as the natural home of working people. But workers and the people advocating on their behalf were quite literally sitting in a room in the State House asking us to listen. Too often, the room was nearly empty.

Ahead of Labor Day, I recorded a longer video about workers’ rights, organized labor, and some of the legislation that has shaped my work in Montpelier.

Senator Bernie Sanders recently argued that Democrats cannot simply be against Donald Trump. They have to be FOR a strong working-class agenda.

I keep coming back to the word FOR, because saying that you support workers is easy. Eventually workers ask for the substance of what we promise with those statements. And that’s a very legitimate ask of those of us who align ourselves with labor.

My own record during the past biennium includes legislation that would give employees at Vermont’s public colleges and universities the right to strike. Those workers can organize and collectively bargain, but Vermont law denies them labor’s most consequential source of leverage: the ability to withhold their labor.

I have spent most of my professional career working in higher education, and I am a member of UVM Staff United, an AFT union. I understand that strikes are disruptive. Of course they are. That’s why they work. Collective bargaining without the ability to withhold labor means one side enters the room without its most powerful tool.

I also worked with Vermont-NEA during consideration of H.205 to address a statutory restriction on K-12 teachers that can function as a de facto noncompete. We heard testimony about teachers being prevented from even interviewing for future positions while still fulfilling their obligations to their current schools.

The experience raised questions that extend well beyond that particular bill. Whose discomfort receives serious attention in the State House? Whose experience gets accepted as evidence? Who has access to policymakers as the decisions get made? And who’s working their day job?

Those questions also apply to affordability.

We talk about affordability constantly in Vermont. Increasingly, that has come to mean no new taxes and austere government spending commitments.

You know what really improves affordability?

Wages.

Affordability isn’t only about what things cost. It’s about whether the person paying those costs earns enough money to afford them. Worker power is affordability policy.

Collective bargaining impacts wages, health insurance, retirement benefits, schedules, workloads, workplace safety and working conditions. When we reduce a worker’s benefits, the underlying expense doesn’t magically disappear. It shifts. A teacher still needs health insurance. Their family still needs health insurance. What appears as savings on one side of a government ledger can simply become another bill landing on a worker’s kitchen table.

This is part of why I am concerned about the political vacuum we create when the left talks about working people but fails to consistently show up for them.

The political right has become very good at controlling the affordability narrative. Taxes are a cost. Government is a cost. Wages become a cost. Benefits become a cost. Collective bargaining becomes an obstacle to controlling those costs. Meanwhile, the left continues to insist that we are the political home of working people while developing very little counterargument.

Worse, too often we don’t even show up.

And if we never enter the room, somebody else will. Even if only rhetorically.

I lived in Minnesota before moving to Vermont in 1996. The Democratic Party there is called the Democratic-Farmer-Labor Party. That name has a history. The Farmer-Labor Party was once a powerful independent political movement built around farmers and working people. It competed successfully with both major parties before merging with Minnesota’s Democratic Party in 1944.

The word Labor survived the merger. It should mean something.

Being pro-labor requires more than standing with union members at a Labor Day rally. It requires more than seeking their endorsement during an election. It means showing up when workers invite us into the room. It means writing legislation alongside them. And it means standing with them when their interests come into conflict with employers, administrators, institutions and other powerful interests.

There is one more part of my labor record that I think deserves particular attention.

This November, Vermonters will vote on Proposal 3, which would place the right to organize and collectively bargain into the Vermont Constitution. I voted to put Proposal 3 before voters, and I support it.

I’ve seen a graphic promoting Proposal 3 that uses Vermont license plates. There is an irony in that image that I can’t overcome.

Those license plates are made by incarcerated Vermonters.

The average wage paid to incarcerated workers in Vermont, including the people pressing those plates, is about 45 cents an hour.

I have repeatedly challenged those wages. In H.294, I proposed requiring the Department of Corrections to pay incarcerated workers at least the federal minimum wage. That provision was removed before the bill became law.

This year, I introduced H.919, which would recognize incarcerated Vermonters performing labor for or under DOC as temporary state employees for the duration of that work, with the rights and protections that come with being an employee.

That bill didn’t advance either.

When I say workers need power, I mean all workers. The State of Vermont should not be able to depend upon someone’s labor and then deny that they are a worker when wages, rights and protections enter the conversation.

These are bills I intend to continue pursuing if voters send me back to Montpelier in January.

The right to strike. Teacher mobility. Fair treatment and compensation for incarcerated workers. Strong collective bargaining protections. Workplace protections that recognize that workers should have some actual power over the conditions under which they earn their living.

I am proud of the labor endorsements I have received during this campaign. But an endorsement graphic isn’t the measure I want anyone using to determine whether I’m pro-labor.

Look at the legislation.

Look at the votes.

Look at who I’m listening to.

And then, when January arrives, look to see who’s in the room.

Calls for greater enforcement in Burlington are understandable. But any serious public-safety strategy also has to account for what happens next with regard to our courts, correctional capacity, treatment, supervision, staffing, and cost.

Public safety is perhaps the number one concern I hear about most often in Burlington, and the frustration behind those concerns is real.

People see public drug use, discarded needles, property crime, unpredictable behavior, and people experiencing profound illness and instability in public spaces. There is an understandable desire for greater intervention. We are also hearing more and more of a growing concern that an approach built primarily around tolerance and compassion, without meaningful intervention or accountability, may ultimately fail both the community and the people we are trying to help.

I understand that concern.

At the same time, four years on the House Committee on Corrections and Institutions have made me wary of public-safety conversations that end with the arrest. If Vermont moves toward greater enforcement, we need to be equally serious about the systems that receive people afterward.

Where does someone go after an arrest? What happens there? What does it cost? And are we at all engaging in any commitment to make it less likely that the same person will return to the same circumstances?

THREE SYSTEMS UNDER PRESSURE

Former Vermont Commissioner of Corrections Nicholas Deml often described the consequences of inadequate systems of care as ultimately appearing in one of three places: emergency rooms, prisons, or the streets.

That framework has stayed with me. Right now, we’re getting a front-row view of what happens when all three are reaching their individual saturation points at roughly the same time.

The street crisis is simply the one we see most easily. Moving someone from the street into the criminal legal system can change what is immediately visible, but it does not necessarily resolve the underlying problem.

A CORRECTIONAL SYSTEM ALREADY UNDER STRAIN

In February, Commissioner of Corrections Jon Murad appeared before our committee and discussed the population at Chittenden Regional Correctional Facility, Vermont’s only prison for women.

With the population again above 180 women, Murad described the situation as “absolutely shocking and untenable.” He warned that remaining at that level for an extended period could force the Department to consider reducing or moving part of the female population.

The concern did not disappear when the Legislature adjourned. When Murad appeared before the Joint Legislative Justice Oversight Committee on August 5, updated Department data continued to show serious capacity pressures.

So when we talk about arresting, detaining or incarcerating more people, this is the system we’re talking about sending them into.

WHAT ARE WE BUYING FOR $114,000?

Capacity isn’t the only issue.

Vermont spends roughly $114,000 per year to incarcerate one person. Community supervision, treatment and other community-based interventions can cost dramatically less.

There are most certainly people whose conduct and level of risk make incarceration necessary. Public safety requires the capacity to hold those people safely.

But every person who can instead be safely treated, supervised, or supported in the community preserves limited correctional capacity for someone who genuinely needs it. It also gives us an opportunity to address what brought that person into the system in the first place.

The question isn’t simply whether incarceration creates an immediate consequence. We should also ask whether that $114,000 is producing the best public-safety outcome we can achieve.

CAPACITY ALSO MEANS PEOPLE

Our correctional workforce is strained too. Correctional officers and other facility staff are working in extraordinarily difficult conditions, with vacancies and substantial overtime.

Increasing incarceration means asking that workforce to absorb more people into facilities already struggling to operate safely and humanely at current populations.

If we expect corrections to do more than warehouse people, staffing and infrastructure have to be part of the public-safety conversation.

ACCOUNTABILITY REQUIRES INFRASTRUCTURE

None of this is an argument against accountability.

People should be able to use our streets, parks and public spaces safely. People struggling with severe substance use, mental illness or instability also deserve something more effective than being allowed to deteriorate publicly until their behavior becomes sufficiently dangerous to produce an arrest.

If greater intervention is necessary, Vermont needs systems capable of carrying it out.

That means functioning courts, treatment, health care, housing, community supervision, appropriate correctional capacity, and a workforce capable of operating that system safely.

Otherwise, we haven’t solved the problem. We’ve moved people from one saturated system into another, at tremendous and often unnecessary cost.

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER THE ARREST?

I am prepared to respond if Vermont moves toward greater intervention and enforcement. I understand why people are asking for it.

But I will continue asking what happens next.

Where does the person go? What happens when they get there? What does it cost? And are we actually making it less likely that they’ll return to the same circumstances?

Those aren’t reasons to avoid action. They’re questions we need to answer if we want the action to work.

For the past four years, voters in my district have given me the opportunity to be in the room asking those questions. I’m asking for the opportunity to continue that work. If you value having an independent voice doing it, I would be grateful for your support.

I have come to appreciate Rep. Greg Burtt during my time in the Vermont House.

Greg and I probably disagree on policy more often than we agree. He is a Republican from Cabot. I sit considerably to his left on most issues. One of the more profound lessons I have gained from my time in the Legislature is that the roll call only captures a small portion of the relationships that develop among 150 people trying to make public policy together.

Greg has quietly supported me on issues where there was little political advantage for him in doing so. Some of that support has occurred in hallway conversations that will never appear in a legislative journal or roll call. Two very specific instances come to mind with ease. I have tried to return that same courtesy by listening carefully when he brings something to the floor that deserves consideration on its merits.

On May 6, he did exactly that.

We were debating S.325, legislation intended in part to address problems that had emerged from Act 181 and Vermont’s ongoing effort to modernize Act 250.

Greg offered an amendment addressing accessory on-farm businesses.

The existing law specifically withheld an Act 250 exemption from improvements associated with certain educational, recreational and social events on farms. Greg proposed striking that restriction and allowing improvements associated with activities featuring agricultural practices or qualifying farm products.

This was not an attempt to dismantle Act 250. It wasn’t an assault on environmental regulation. It was a relatively modest recognition of something Vermont farmers have been telling us for years.

Farming has changed. The economics of farming have changed. And if we want working farms to remain working farms, they need room to adapt. Farmstands are nice for the produce you’ll need for the coming week, but they’re not enough to keep the farm itself alive.

That prompted some remarkable objections on the House floor.

We heard warnings about enormous wedding venues. Traffic. Lights. Noise. Concerts. We heard the possibility of “humongous concert and wedding venues,” potentially operating “every single night of the year,” along with enormous concerts damaging agricultural soils.

Listening to the debate, you could be forgiven for thinking we were about to turn every Vermont dairy farm into a branch office of Live Nation.

There was a remarkable amount of pearl clutching over an amendment intended to give working farms some additional room to adapt.

Fortunately, some legislators on the left were listening to something else.

Rep. Kate McCann, a Democrat from Montpelier and someone with whom I share considerably more political ground than I do with Greg, stood in support of the amendment.

“As climate changes,” she told the House, “farms need to adapt to grow and thrive in Vermont.”

Precisely. I voted yes.

So did enough Democrats, Progressives and Independents to join Republicans and pass Greg’s amendment, 77–66. The full roll call is public, and it is worth reviewing.

At the time, I was pleased that we had made a sensible change. Looking back at that vote now, with another election approaching and after watching what has happened around Act 181 across Vermont, I see something else in it.

It was a warning.

Vermont Democrats are badly underestimating the political meaning of the rural backlash to Act 181. The Burtt amendment offered an early glimpse. A modest proposal acknowledging that working farms must adapt became a fight over hypothetical concerts, traffic, noise and development. Enough legislators on the left listened to pass it. Too many still haven’t understood what that vote was telling us.

Rural Vermont is angry.

More importantly for anyone preparing for November, rural Vermont is organized, motivated and paying attention to who listened.

I worry that a portion of the Vermont left has developed a profound blind spot about the people who work the land it so desperately wants to protect.

There is a particular brand of environmentalism that can become exclusionary once people have secured their own piece of Vermont. The house is built. The view is protected. Financial security is established. Environmental regulation can then become one more tool for preserving the Vermont that those of us fortunate enough to be economically secure want to experience.

It is relatively easy to demand that Vermont remain bucolic when your relationship with that landscape consists primarily of driving through it in an EV on the way back to a comfortable home (I should acknowledge that I am describing one of my own favorite ways of experiencing Vermont). It looks different when the land has to pay the mortgage.

And it looks very different when it has been paying the mortgage for generations.

The people pushing back against Act 181 include farmers, foresters, hunters, anglers, outdoor enthusiasts and families whose relationship with the Vermont landscape extends much deeper than admiring it. Their families have worked it. Built livelihoods from it. Protected it. Adapted to it. And, in many cases, struggled mightily to keep it intact for another generation.

There is another history that should humble all of us in this conversation. The land we are debating is unceded Indigenous land. Long before any of the relationships with Vermont’s landscape I am describing here, the Abenaki people were its caretakers. And Vermont has compounded that history by extending state recognition to self-identified groups whose claims to Abenaki identity are rejected by the Abenaki First Nations at Odanak and Wôlinak, the documented descendants of the people whose homeland includes what we now call Vermont. I have written extensively about that controversy elsewhere, and it deserves more space than I can give it here.

Acknowledging that history does not diminish the generational connection that Vermont’s farmers, foresters, hunters and other rural families have developed with this land. It should make all of us a little more circumspect about claiming ownership of what Vermont ought to look like, or assuming that our particular relationship with the landscape gives us exclusive authority to determine how it should be protected.

There is an arrogance in assuming that environmental concern belongs primarily to the regulatory left while resistance to regulation represents hostility toward conservation.

Farmers know something about stewardship.

Foresters know something about stewardship.

Hunters and anglers know something about stewardship.

People whose livelihoods depend upon healthy land have rather powerful incentives to care what happens to it.

That doesn’t make every objection to Act 250 or Act 181 correct. It doesn’t make every proposed development appropriate. It certainly doesn’t eliminate the need for environmental regulation. Vermont has spent decades developing protections for its landscape for good reasons, and I support many of them.

It does mean that when hundreds of Vermonters whose lives and livelihoods are connected to the land tell us that something isn’t working, our first response cannot continually be to explain to them why they don’t understand the policy.

Yet I fear that is precisely what too much of the Democratic establishment is doing.

The political danger here extends beyond Act 181.

I see the same problem in the Democratic Party’s increasingly complicated relationship with organized labor. Democrats continue to identify themselves as the party of working people while too often discovering reasons to retreat when standing with workers becomes politically inconvenient. Vermont’s rural backlash and the national erosion of working-class support for Democrats are not identical phenomena, but I think they share something important.

Too much talking about working people. Not enough listening to them.

Party politics compounds the problem because it encourages legislators to decide what the correct position is before fully considering the people asking them to reconsider it.

That is among the reasons I became an Independent.

I didn’t stop sharing values with people on the left when I stopped identifying with a political party. I still do. What I have become increasingly unwilling to do is presume that those shared values tell me what the answer must be before I have listened to the people living with the consequences.

The Burtt amendment is a small example.

Greg Burtt brought an amendment to the floor. I listened. Kate McCann listened. Enough legislators from across the political spectrum listened.

And 77 of us voted yes.

Since then, the voices demanding broader changes to Act 181 have become considerably louder. Rural Vermonters have shown up at the State House in numbers that should command the attention of anyone interested in understanding the political environment heading into November.

I am not convinced Democratic leadership has read the room.

And there is plenty of evidence available for anyone willing to look.

What began as a Facebook group organized around opposition to Act 181 has developed into Rural Vermont Rising, a network that grew to more than 16,000 members by early August. It has developed local chapters, brought hundreds of people to Montpelier, and begun moving explicitly into electoral politics. Vermont Public described the Act 181 effort as one of the most well-organized advocacy campaigns the State House has seen in recent memory.

That organizing has already begun showing up in elections.

In Bennington County, sugar producer Amy Moore said Act 181 and the organizing around Rural Vermont Rising helped propel her decision to challenge incumbent Democratic senators Seth Bongartz and Rob Plunkett. She didn’t win the Democratic primary, but she received nearly a quarter of the vote.

In Windsor County, Rural Vermont Rising members were actively scrutinizing incumbent Democratic senators over Act 181 and discussing how to exert influence in the Democratic primary. The movement wasn’t simply asking legislators to reconsider a land-use statute anymore. Its members were learning how to use elections to make themselves heard.

I don’t know what that will translate into on November 3. Neither does anyone else.

But dismissing it would require ignoring a rather impressive list of developments. Thousands of Vermonters are organized, hundreds have shown up at the State House, local chapters are forming around the state, and candidates are emerging from the movement. Along the way, there is an increasingly sophisticated understanding that changing policy sometimes requires changing the people who make it.

Even Senate Majority Leader Kesha Ram Hinsdale offered an assessment that should probably be printed out and taped to a few doors in the State House:

“We weren’t doing enough listening. Maybe too much lecturing and not enough listening.”

Exactly.

Some Democrats appear to believe this anger will dissipate once people better understand Act 181. Some seem to regard the backlash as another episode of rural resistance to necessary environmental regulation. Others appear confident that Vermont’s political alignment will protect them from meaningful electoral consequences.

I think that confidence is badly misplaced.

There are people preparing to vote this November for whom Act 181 isn’t an abstract debate about statewide land-use planning. It has become evidence of whether the people making decisions in Montpelier have any interest in hearing from them.

Those voters have already demonstrated that they are willing to drive to Montpelier, fill the State House and make themselves heard.

They are going to have another opportunity to make themselves heard in November.

Democrats would be wise to listen before then.

Correction: An earlier version of this post attributed a House floor comment to Rep. Conor Casey of Montpelier. The speaker was Rep. Kate McCann (also of Montpelier).

Over the coming months, as we head toward the general election, I plan to use a series of videos to talk in greater detail about my legislative record, the issues that have shaped my work in Montpelier, and the work I hope to continue if I am fortunate enough to be reelected.

I’m beginning with corrections reform.

For the past four years, I have served on the House Committee on Corrections and Institutions, and during my second term I was appointed Ranking Member. It is an area of policy where I have developed strong relationships with my colleagues and where I have been fortunate to turn several priorities into legislation that became law.

Those reforms include eliminating supervision fees for Vermonters on probation, parole, and furlough; expanding the Kids Apart program to better support relationships between incarcerated fathers and their children; and strengthening protections governing the searches and housing of transgender Vermonters in our correctional facilities. I’ve also pushed the Department of Corrections to examine the cost of providing phone calls at no cost to incarcerated people and their families.

I’m proud of that record. I’m also increasingly concerned about where some of the larger trends within our correctional system are taking us.

A correctional population moving in the wrong direction

Recent data presented by the Vermont Department of Corrections to the Joint Legislative Justice Oversight Committee illustrates the challenge particularly well.

Vermont’s average incarcerated population increased from 1,430 people in the third quarter of 2024 to 1,662 in the second quarter of 2026.

That growth matters for reasons beyond the number itself. Hundreds of the Vermonters currently incarcerated have not been sentenced. Court backlogs can leave people detained for months while their cases remain unresolved. In committee, I have heard testimony about people spending so long detained that the time they have already spent incarcerated can meet or exceed the minimum sentence they ultimately receive.

Due process and the constitutional right to a speedy trial have to remain central to this conversation.

The numbers are particularly striking when we look at Vermont’s incarcerated women.

In the second quarter of 2026, Vermont incarcerated an average of 180 women. DOC classified 85 of them as detained rather than sentenced. That is nearly half of the entire female incarcerated population.

As Vermont moves forward with plans for a new women’s correctional facility, I believe we need to ask two questions simultaneously: What kind of facility should we build, and what policies are driving the number of people we believe we need to incarcerate there?

For nonviolent offenses especially, we need greater investment in restorative and community-based approaches to accountability and harm repair.

Capacity affects everyone inside our facilities

The consequences of a growing incarcerated population are visible in DOC’s own capacity data.

In this DOC presentation, green indicates facilities operating near capacity. Red indicates facilities already operating over capacity.

These buildings are also workplaces.

DOC reports a 17 percent vacancy rate among facility staff. When we discuss correctional infrastructure, we are discussing the daily working environment of some of Vermont’s hardest-working and most undervalued state employees.

As we design a new women’s facility and eventually modernize other correctional facilities, we have an opportunity to create more humane environments for incarcerated Vermonters and safer, better workplaces for the people we ask to staff them.

Modernization should also include the infrastructure necessary for successful reentry. Reliable Wi-Fi can strengthen our partnership with the Community College of Vermont and expand meaningful access to education and degree programs while people are incarcerated.

We also need to confront exploitation within our own system

Some of the reforms I have pursued begin with a fairly simple question: Are our own policies making successful reentry harder?

Supervision fees were one example. Vermont was charging people on probation, parole, and furlough while simultaneously expecting them to secure housing, find employment, support their families, and successfully rebuild their lives. I introduced legislation to end those fees, and that legislation became law.

Incarcerated labor demands the same scrutiny.

Incarcerated Vermonters perform work that benefits the State of Vermont while earning, on average, approximately 45 cents per hour.

I believe Vermonters should sit with that number.

I welcome efforts to provide financial literacy education inside our correctional facilities. But financial literacy needs to be accompanied by meaningful compensation. Fairer wages could allow incarcerated Vermonters to contribute to their families, pay restitution to people harmed by their crimes, and accumulate some resources for the difficult transition back into the community.

If rehabilitation and successful reentry are genuinely our goals, our policies should reflect them.

Ending Vermont’s reliance on for-profit incarceration

Vermont also continues to incarcerate roughly 150 men at a CoreCivic facility in Mississippi.

These are Vermonters living more than a thousand miles from their families, communities, and circles of support while Vermont taxpayer dollars flow to a private prison corporation that is also deeply involved in for-profit immigration detention.

I have consistently opposed Vermont’s reliance on this model.

Bringing these Vermonters home will require more than finding beds for them inside Vermont. It requires addressing why we need those out-of-state beds at all.

That means reducing unnecessary incarceration, addressing court backlogs, expanding restorative and community-based alternatives, strengthening family connections, investing in education, and creating better pathways toward successful reentry.

Four years on Corrections and Institutions have given me a much deeper understanding of both how difficult this work is and how meaningful reform can happen. I’ve built relationships that allow me to move legislation, and I’ve seen several reforms I introduced become law.

There is much more I want to finish.

If this approach to corrections reform aligns with your values and you would like to help me return to Montpelier to continue this work, I would be grateful for your support.

I am running for reelection as an Independent in a contested race and accept campaign contributions from individuals rather than corporations, lobbyists, or PACs.

Please consider a donation to my reelection campaign.

In recent weeks, given my sponsorship of H. 355, I’ve heard from Vermonters across the political spectrum who are paying closer attention to how, when, and why our National Guard is deployed. That attention has sharpened following the recent deployment of the Vermont National Guard to Puerto Rico and the broader geopolitical instability in the region, including the ongoing situation in Venezuela.

The question I am hearing most often is a simple one:

Do states, and the people who live in them, have any meaningful role when decisions are made that place National Guard members in harm’s way?

H.355 exists to create space for that question to be discussed openly, carefully, and with public input.

This bill is not about obstructing federal authority, refusing lawful orders, or injecting Vermont into foreign policy debates. It is about whether there are responsible, transparent checks available to us before our Guard is federalized in ways that may bypass Congress entirely. Importantly, we’re a bit late in discussing the benefits of discussing this bill, but better late than never.

What H.355 Actually Does

H.355 is intentionally narrow. It asks the Governor of Vermont to do three things when a steps are taken by the President to federalize the Vermont National Guard:

1. Examine whether that request complies with the U.S. Constitution, specifically Congress’s responsibility under Article I to authorize war.

2. If the Governor determines that the request is constitutionally questionable, H. 355 requires that reasonable steps are taken to convey that determination to the President.

3. Inform the Vermont Legislature when those steps have been taken, so that elected representatives and the public are aware that concerns were raised.

That is the entirety of the mechanism. There is no automatic refusal. There is no state veto. There is no declaration of independence from federal authority.

H.355 is a process bill. It creates documentation, communication, and transparency where there is currently very little.

What H.355 Does Not Do

Because public discussion has already begun to drift into exaggeration, it is equally important to be explicit about what this bill does not do.

H.355 does not:

• Prevent the federal government from federalizing the National Guard

• Block deployments ordered under clear constitutional authority

• Interfere with emergency response, disaster relief, or domestic missions

• Require the Legislature to approve or deny deployments

• Create a confrontation between Vermont and the Pentagon

It does not ask the Governor to disobey federal law. It, very simply, asks the Governor to examine whether federal law has been followed.

That distinction matters, as you are likely already hearing discussion about what is and what is not constitutional as we collectively discuss recent actions.

How We Arrived to this Point

For nearly eight decades, Congress has avoided issuing formal declarations of war. Instead, it has relied on broad, open-ended Authorizations for Use of Military Force (AUMF) that shift decision-making power almost entirely to the Executive Branch.

This is not a partisan observation. It is a structural one that is easily verified by a quick review of deployments for the past 50 years.

As a result, National Guard members now comprise a substantial portion of overseas deployments, often in conflicts that no sitting member of Congress has ever voted on.

Whether one supports or opposes those deployments, the process itself raises legitimate democratic questions. H.355 does not answer those questions for Vermonters. It creates a mechanism for asking them responsibly.

State Authority and Federal Responsibility

Under our constitutional system, National Guard members occupy a unique position. They serve both the state and the nation. That dual status is not symbolic; it is also structural and deliberate.

Until federalized, the Guard remains under state authority. During that window, governors have obligations, including an obligation to ensure that requests are lawful.

H.355 does not attempt to resolve unsettled constitutional questions. It simply acknowledges that such questions exist and that raising them through formal channels is appropriate, not insubordinate.

Why Committee Discussion and Testimony Matter

The most important next step for H.355 is not a floor vote. It is committee discussion.

The House Committee on Government Operations and Military Affairs is the currently the assigned and appropriate venue for:

• Legal scholars to weigh in on constitutional interpretation

• Guard members and veterans to speak to lived experience

• Executive branch officials to explain current processes

• Vermonters to express expectations around transparency and accountability

Robust testimony strengthens legislation. Avoiding discussion weakens public trust.

Ways to Get Involved Right Now

If you believe this question deserves careful public consideration, there are concrete ways to engage:

• Contact the House Committee on Government Operations and Military Affairs and encourage a hearing on H.355.

• Sign and share the petition calling for discussion of H.355 and Guard deployment practices:
  https://www.thepetitionsite.com/599/766/799/uphold-the-mission-of-our-vermont-national-guard/

• Reach out locally. Burlington residents interested in becoming more involved can contact Rachel Siegel at rachelfrida@gmail.com.

Engagement does not require consensus. It requires participation.

Closing Thought

H.355 does not presume answers. It insists on questions.

At a moment when decisions about war, peace, and military deployment increasingly occur far from public view, asking how constitutional checks are functioning is neither radical nor reckless. It is responsible.

If Vermont can contribute to restoring transparency and accountability through thoughtful process, we should be willing to examine that opportunity together.

That is what H.355 offers.

Governor Scott’s Budget Adjustment Veto: Obstruction, Not Leadership

Vermont’s budget adjustment process is a critical exercise for adjusting state spending according to needs that may have arrived since that budget’s initial pass. It’s how we allow the state to respond to urgent and emerging needs whether it’s supporting vulnerable Vermonters, addressing natural disasters, or stabilizing essential services. It’s a process that, quite literally,  requires negotiation and compromise. This year’s Budget Adjustment Act (BAA) went through every step of that process. The House passed a version. The Senate made adjustments. When the two chambers still had differences, a smaller conference committee resolved those differences. These conference committees are always constructed of bilateral membership from both chambers. That is the definition of legislative compromise.

And yet, Governor Scott vetoed it. Not because it was fiscally irresponsible. Not because it lacked compromise. But because it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He made the unilateral decision to disregard more than a  month of bilateral cooperation. 

This is not an isolated incident. We’ve seen this pattern before, such as last year when the Governor disregarded the Senate’s rejection of his Education Secretary nominee and installed his choice anyway, despite clear legislative opposition. This is becoming a dangerous habit that mirrors what we’re seeing at the federal level. When the Governor, like the President, doesn’t get his way, he circumvents the process. Rather than governing within the system of compromises, he simply blocks necessary policy.

The Real-World Consequences of the Governor’s Veto

This veto isn’t just about politics—it has real, immediate impacts on Vermonters:

• 1,600 Vermonters in emergency shelter now face an uncertain future, as funding for housing assistance is halted. Municipalities, such as Burlington, that shoulder a disproportionate portion of the burden that will result are left to divert funds from other necessary projects.
• Flood-impacted communities will not receive $1.8 million in relief funds, leaving them to struggle without necessary aid.
• Critical investments in affordable housing—totaling $10.4 million—are now on hold, further deepening Vermont’s housing crisis.
• Healthcare providers who rely on emergency fiscal relief—$31 million in funding—are left without the resources they need to stay afloat.
• Essential institutions, like the Vermont Veterans’ Home, will lose $11 million in funding, jeopardizing services for those who have served our country.

The Governor claims to be a champion of fiscal responsibility, but this veto doesn’t save money. The BAA doesn’t add new costs — it simply adjusts the budget that already passed. Instead of taking responsibility at the state level, he pushes costs onto municipalities, local organizations, and, ultimately, the very people who can least afford it.

Call Governor Scott—Tell Him Vermonters Deserve Better

This is not how compromise works. It’s not leadership. It’s obstruction, plain and simple. And if we let this pattern continue, it won’t stop here. We’ve seen how frequently the Governor uses the veto and he intends to use it again.

Let Governor Scott know that Vermonters see through this. Tell him that vetoing essential funding is not responsible governance. It’s reckless and harmful.

Call the Governor’s Office at (802) 828-3333
Email him at governor.vermont@vermont.gov

Vermont needs leadership that respects the legislative process and takes responsibility for governing. The executive branch, by definition, is supposed to execute. Vetoes, excuses, and press spin are not leadership. Now is the time to make sure the Governor hears that message loud and clear.

Friends and Neighbors,

With campaign season ramping up for Town Meeting Day, we all know what’s coming: the tired refrain of blaming Progressives for allegedly “defunding” the police. It’s a narrative designed to divide us and distract from the real challenges our community faces. Before that rhetoric gains traction, let’s set the record straight with facts.

The Truth About BPD Staffing Decisions

The decision years ago to reduce the Burlington Police Department (BPD) by attrition wasn’t about “defunding” the police; it was about thoughtful resource management. That decision was supported by both Progressives and a faction of Democrats at the time. It reflected a broader conversation about public safety, one that balanced the need for policing with a commitment to addressing systemic issues like mental health, housing, and substance use.

Let’s focus on what has happened since then. BPD has faced leadership challenges and inefficiencies that have squandered resources.

• In FY23 and FY24, BPD received $250,000 each year for recruitment efforts, and in FY24, the City Council unanimously added another $100,000. Despite this, the BPD hired only 11 officers over two years—costing taxpayers over half a million dollars.
• For comparison, the Burlington Fire Department, with a recruitment budget of just $3,750, hired the same number of firefighters during the same period.

The Fire Department’s success highlights the inefficiencies in BPD’s approach. For example, BPD spent $40,000 of taxpayer money on an out-of-state company to create recruitment videos. Meanwhile, the Fire Department produced a highly effective recruitment video in-house using existing staff resources.

And now, BPD plans to use a significant portion of the additional $100,000 allocated for FY25 recruitment on a social media advertising campaign and a new website. These efforts could easily be achieved for much less if approached with the same resourcefulness as the Fire Department.

Addressing BPD’s Internal Challenges

No amount of recruitment dollars will fix deeper, structural issues within BPD:

• Morale and trust: Feedback from officers highlights concerns about outdated facilities, an over reliance on overtime, and a lack of trust within the department.
• Ethical lapses: Burlington has spent millions settling use-of-force lawsuits, some dating back well before 2020. Past leadership engaged in unethical behaviors, including creating fake social media accounts to troll residents and councilors.
• Public safety missteps: BPD leadership staged a fake shooting scenario to “teach” high school students about unreliable witness testimony—an approach that was widely condemned.

These issues underscore the need for accountability and reform. They are not the fault of city councilors who made decisions to prioritize the efficient use of taxpayer dollars and invest in long-term community safety.

A History of Progressive Support for Public Safety

Let’s not forget that Progressives have consistently supported increased funding for public safety when it was warranted:

• Under Mayor Mulvaney-Stanak, the City Council approved an additional $100,000 for BPD recruitment and passed a budget that increased BPD’s funding more in a single year than any year under the previous mayor.
• Progressives have supported investments in improved police facilities and recruitment efforts to address challenges within the department.

The reality is that Progressives are not anti-police. We support a public safety system that works for everyone—efficient, accountable, and responsive to the needs of the community.

Moving Forward Together

As a Progressive myself, I refuse to engage in the divisive, negative rhetoric that some use to score political points. Instead, I want to focus on solutions that bring us together as a community. Burlington’s challenges are complex, and addressing them requires collaboration—not finger-pointing.

I urge all of us, regardless of party, to reject the simplistic blame game and focus on what really matters: building a safer, stronger, and more equitable Burlington. Together, we can rise above the noise and create meaningful change. I work hard across both aisles and place a tremendous value on the collaborative relationships I’ve built and nourished with lawmakers from all three parties, as well as our Independent colleagues. I hold faith that we can move toward that sort of environment within our community, even as we step into another short but vibrant election campaign season.

As always, do not hesitate to reach out with any questions or concerns.

Troy

I have a dear and long time friend who is a homeowner in Burlington and has lived in this district for far longer than I’ve been a State Representative. She is especially good at calling me into conversations where we may not begin from the same viewpoint. We talk about the issue, oftentimes finding our common ground, and I always have more to consider and a new perspective that will continue to assist me as that conversation then continues with others. I’ve written recently about how it remains critical, as our city’s administration is called into conversations about repairing harm to a former employee, that we understand how monetary settlements will often belong within our commitment to restorative practices. My friend recently asked me to consider how that potential settlement could be spent in so many other ways. This zero-sum approach to allocation of resources is a pitfall that commonly leads us in the wrong direction.

Our conversations often serve as a reminder that the challenges we face in our community require thoughtful dialogue, especially when we don’t see eye to eye. This is especially evident in the ongoing discussions about how Burlington simultaneously addresses systemic racism, the opioid crisis, and economic justice.

I can certainly understand why it might be hard to wrap our heads around a large settlement paid to one individual, but I think we’re missing the bigger picture if we focus only on that figure or when we reduce this issue to a simple conversation about money. The good news is that you and I don’t have to focus on the amount. We won’t have any impact on what gets settled. For me, my best involvement is with convincing the administration that monetary reparations are an appropriate component of restorative work and that the city has a clear history of resolving employment disputes and resolving harm caused with monetary solutions. What’s happening here is part of a deeper conversation about systemic problems, appropriately identified as sourced from the perpetuation of structural racism.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of pitting one issue against another, especially when resources feel scarce. When we, then, start imagining what all gets left behind or other ways to spend that money, we fall into the trap of zero-sum thinking. Settling a legitimate professional defamation complaint is a valid problem currently facing the administration and it’s one that they will likely need to spend money to resolve. That’s a truth we need to acknowledge alongside the conversation my friend initiated that then seeks to pivot into questions about how we best respond to our most vulnerable community members. Specifically, she contemplates the proposed settlement as in opposition to potential investments in youth services and the opioid crisis. When we fall into the trap of zero-sum thinking, we risk playing into the hands of a system that pits marginalized communities against one another, distracting us from the root causes of inequality.

The problem is not the money requested as severance, nor is it simply about how we allocate funds to deal with the substance use disorder crisis or after school programs. The real issue is how we’ve allowed these crises – both opioid addiction and the lack of youth programming – to get to this point by not addressing the root causes. We’ve created an economic system that allows for and encourages the hoarding of wealth by a very small minority of people. Such a system requires the perpetuation of poverty and the erasure of a strong middle class. Inappropriate wealth distribution has to get that wealth from somewhere. As a result, we underfund critical social services and now we’re scapegoating a Black woman in a high-profile position to avoid the uncomfortable truth that our society hasn’t equitably supported communities of color while we’ve also disregarded those struggling with addiction. When we commit to hiring a person with lived experiences to address how Burlington has also benefited from the legacies of white supremacy and racism, we have to prepare ourselves for learning some uncomfortable truth about how even Vermont is not immune. You don’t have to read very far on the various social media platforms to understand how the deliberate defamation of Tyeastia Green has so quickly morphed into armchair critics shouting about how this now becomes evidence for the dismantling of any commitment to sustaining an Office of Racial Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging. This is nothing more than well established systems of power and privilege spinning the narrative to preserve their power.

It’s important to step away from either-or thinking. We can and must allocate funding that responds to both the opioid crisis and on afterschool programs for kids. They aren’t in competition with each other. Both are symptoms of larger systemic failures – like income inequality and the lack of mental health support – that we need to address holistically. Framing it as one side winning while the other loses is dangerous and doesn’t move us toward solutions.

I want to also identify the language we’re seeing in various online debates that dehumanizes people suffering from addiction. It’s understandable to feel fear and frustration when we see people using drugs openly, especially near places like the King Street Center and schools – what should be a safe place for children to gather. Fear is a natural reaction when faced with the visible signs of the opioid crisis, especially when it’s happening near our kids. But we must resist the urge to dehumanize those suffering, recognizing that their struggles are a reflection of the system’s failures, not personal moral failings.

These members of our community are not “the problem” themselves – they’re suffering too. Dehumanizing them only worsens the situation by making us think we can solve it by excluding them from public spaces when, in reality, we need to treat the root causes of addiction, poverty, and the housing crisis. There’s a much bigger conversation about how we’ve avoided the federal responsibilities to fund mental health services since Reagan eliminated the Mental Health Systems Act of 1980. 

But let’s focus on the bigger question: how did we get to the point where both opioid addiction and a lack of youth services are putting people at risk? And how can we better support everyone, from kids to those struggling with addiction, instead of making them compete for scraps of funding?  And how do we learn to trust a Black woman to do her job even when that very job is designed to bring this community into critically needed conversations on hard to hear truths about inequity? How do we reframe the conversation to highlight how systemic issues can’t be addressed through scarcity thinking and invite this community to think more inclusively about possible solutions?

As always, I remain available and willing to continue the conversation. I’m fortunate and grateful for my friend who consistently keeps me practiced in the process by which we navigate those conversations from different starting points. I invite you all to join me in asking the hard questions, but also in seeking solutions that lift everyone up. Let’s commit to addressing the root causes rather than treating symptoms, and let’s do it without turning on each other.

I’m saddened by the fact that we are still needing to broadcast the continued mistreatment of Tyeastia Green, former Director of Burlington’s Office of Racial Equity, Inclusion & Belonging. I first attempted to draw attention to this mistreatment in August, 2023 with a blog post in support for Tyeastia’s ally and my dear friend Ferene Paris.

Below is my open letter to the Mayor and City Councilors urging them to commit to finding resolution to Ms. Green’s valid request for restitution. I hope you will engage in your own methods for encouraging our city to repair the harm we’ve caused.

In Continued Support of Tyeastia Green
October 12, 2024

Dear Mayor Mulvaney-Stanak and Burlington City Councilors,

I write today to join the recent collection of voices urging you to re-engage in good faith with Tyeastia Green, former Director of Burlington’s Office of Racial Equity, Inclusion & Belonging, and to acknowledge her response to the City’s initiation and invitation to negotiations of a potential settlement. I’m of the clear belief that when we initiate negotiations, to include potential monetary reparations, we are then obligated to remain engaged with those negotiations.

As someone who has been trained and certified in and long committed to engaging with conflict mediation from a commitment to restorative practices, I worry that the administration’s use of that term, at least in this instance, is falling into common traps that actually misuse the concept. In my roles as a student affairs professional at the University of Vermont as well as that of a state legislator, I consistently encounter processes in which a stated commitment to restorative practices is used, at best, superficially or trivially and, at worst, from a weaponized intention. I’ll assume best intentions with my engagement of this conflict.

To state it succinctly, restitution and reparations are restorative. While my understanding of the administration’s intent is limited to how it has been described by the recent Seven Days article, I fear that we have fallen into the trap in which restorative processes and resolutions are conceived of and defined as separate from or, possibly, incongruent to conversations that include monetary restitution. This preconceives the process for any sort of restorative engagement. To be clear, the core tenets of any restorative process ask, essentially, three questions: what were we thinking to arrive at this moment, what have we thought about since the conflict, and what needs to happen that will allow us to begin to repair the harm we have caused? Often times, monetary compensation to repair the harm caused to a person’s professional reputation will and should be named as a valid component of any resolution.

Our national conversation on reparations for the impact on generations of Americans that were formerly enslaved is a reasonable and analogous example for consideration. When we build a country and an economy through the enslavement of an entire race of people, when we build foundational wealth through the exploitation of that free and enslaved labor, and when that wealth then compounds exponentially before the descendants of that enslaved labor force are even allowed fair payment for their work, we must commit ourselves to engaging in the reasonable request for closing the resulting wealth gap. It is undeniable that our nation was built upon these systems of white supremacy. The resulting legacies of power and privilege will continue to seek and find ways to preserve themselves. The longer we allow that to happen by not engaging in the resulting conversations that stipulate reparations, we will continue to watch that wealth gap grow in obvious and exponentially inequitable ways.

The ways in which former Director Green’s professional reputation has been scapegoated and damaged by decisions and statements made by this city’s former administration, in clear violation of an existing non-disparagement clause, are well documented and easily verified. The hypocrisy by which a Black woman in a Director’s role has been overly scrutinized, especially when compared to the administrative negligence of white men in similar roles, has also been well documented and already cited into the public discourse surrounding this matter. The former administration’s actions have caused professional and lasting harm to Tyeastia Green and it remains a valid argument to state that this harm is sourced in the foundations of white supremacy and racism that pervade our structures of municipal governance. 

We can refer to countless examples by which the City of Burlington has responded to comparable harm with monetary reimbursement. Very recent monetary settlements, totalling hundreds of thousands of dollars, for inappropriate use of force incidents initiated by city employees, are easily found. Very recently, a severance package totalling hundreds of thousands of dollars accompanied this city’s decision to terminate its professional contract with at least one city employee. Clear evidence exists for how the City of Burlington is able to acknowledge harm caused and to then repair that harm with monetary restitution. Clear evidence simultaneously exists for how the City of Burlington ends an employment contract with severance pay.

We’re becoming more and more aware of instances in which the previous administration was not forthcoming about the fiscal mismanagement left for the new administration. I am saddened to learn that the former Mayor’s treatment of one of his Directors now continues to burden this administration’s budget. Regardless, the request for restitution is so clearly valid and reparations are so clearly warranted. Mayor and Councilors, I urge you to 1) acknowledge the harm caused to Tyeastia Green’s professional reputation by the City of Burlington, 2) provide fair monetary reimbursement to accommodate the resulting impact, and 3) reimburse Ms. Green for any and all costs and legal fees associated with her response to the neglectful inaction of the City of Burlington to date.

Respectfully,
Troy Headrick