Merrimack Valley Magazine

Vital Voices – Christa Brown and the Free Soil Arts Collective

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The Free Soil Arts Collective, an organization based in Lowell, recently celebrated its two-year anniversary. 

 “I think it’s a real accomplishment,” says Christa Brown, the founder and executive director of Free Soil. “I mean, two years to me is not a really long time. And I think we’ve been able to make a really great impact.” 

In light of racial tensions in this country, Brown created the organization to help amplify and strengthen the voices of people of color by providing the community with youth programs, theatrical productions and community projects that shed light on the lived experience of people of color in the Lowell area. 

Brown was an actor by trade who became frustrated when she didn’t see enough people like herself represented in the media. Instead of sitting on the sidelines, she decided to start an organization that would spark conversations and inform members of the community about local history.

“My opinion is the Black experience is not brought up enough in the community discourse as it should be,” she says. “We work with all artists of color, but a lot of initiatives have come out specifically for Black history.”

 

Free Soil Arts Collective is sponsored by the Greater Lowell Community Foundation, but also works in partnership with other local organizations, such as DIY Lowell and the Lowell Cultural Council.

“Hidden in Plain Sight: Stories of Black Lowell,” an upcoming project in partnership with Merrimack Repertory Theatre and the Kindred Project, will be something for the community to look forward to.

“It will be a documentary theater piece based on the lives of Black people,” Brown says. “We’ll be interviewing Black people who have worked and/or lived in Lowell throughout the years, and then turn those interviews into a play.” 

Thinking about my own personal connection with Lowell, I am simply a student at UMass Lowell; I am not a Lowell resident and I am not knowledgeable about its history, aside from the mills. Brown says that one of the goals of her organization is to help people such as myself learn about the history of people of color in Lowell. 

“There’s this whole connection between the mills and the cotton in the South that isn’t amplified enough,” Brown says. “People talk about the mills, but they don’t really talk about how, if it wasn’t for slavery, the mills wouldn’t have been able to function. The wealth up here was directly related to that. I think this project in particular is like, just trying to let people know, we have to acknowledge what happened.”

 

Brown says COVID-19 has created difficulties for the organization, such as the inability to charge for tickets and put on live theater performances. “I just feel like if we could do stuff in person, that’s way more people coming. There’s networking happening, and that same stuff just doesn’t happen virtually,” she says. 

There are still ways, however, that the community can use the organization’s resources and get involved with the projects. Free Soil is actively expanding its board membership, accepting donations, and hiring artists of color in all disciplines for events.  

Brown created Free Soil Arts Collective because she was annoyed by the lack of representation and realized she had to create it for herself. “To anybody out there who thinks about doing something similar, don’t wait for a seat at the table, just make your own table,” she says. “I think that’s what Free Soil is all about.” 

Visit FreeSoilArts.org or email Christa Brown at Christa@freesoilarts.org for more information and to get involved in upcoming projects and events. 

The Man on the Silver Mountain

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When I wrote my last letter from the editor, I was sitting in my garage, bemoaning the fact that at the beginning of the pandemic I bought some woodworking tools, thinking I would have spare time to begin home repair projects. My naivete is laughable. Of course, the spare time never materialized (this is a minor point) and my concerns were pettily self-centered (this is a major one). While everyone knew that we were facing a time of personal upheaval, I had no clue of what lay ahead politically. I was resting on the tectonic plates of history as they ground beneath my feet, but in my head I was planning to build birdhouses.

Writers and those with a public platform often assume the role once held in society by elders and people of wisdom. We try our best to offer small insights and bits of advice that can help readers understand, decide and participate. So, what happens when you sit down to share some of this wisdom and insight and are left with a heightened sense of your own inability to fathom strikingly complex global crises? What if you intuit that these forces are beyond the scope of any single human, no matter how learned or thoughtful or experienced?

I realized in my helplessness as I tried to put this letter together that my inability to speak, my yearning to simply listen and to understand, paralleled in its own bumbling way something that Socrates extolled at the outset of the Western philosophical tradition.

Socrates (at least through the lens of his student Plato) claimed that true knowledge came from knowing that we know nothing.

He began in uncertainty and seemed skeptical of anyone who professed to know what they were talking about. The way out of this uncertainty had as much to do with the ears as the brain — it lay in dialogue — using logic and reason while engaging others in conversation on life’s most important questions: What is the ideal life? The ideal government? How do we acquire and validate information so we are not swayed by strongly-worded but specious arguments and charismatic individuals? Socrates spoke of this wisdom in terms of light — not light as in sunlight, but light as in something that is the opposite of heaviness, an unburdening from false suppositions and prejudices — a liberation.

Beard-length aside, I can’t claim that 2020 has made me more like Socrates. You won’t find me in a robe, wandering the streets of Lowell with my hands behind my back and stopping sidewalk strollers to plague them with questions. Never have I felt more acutely than right now that I am not the wise one. 

This all stands as a convoluted way of making clear that wisdom, to me, now resides in dialogue, listening, and accepting the limits of my own understanding. It means recognizing that my old ways of looking at the world have fallen short, and that the way forward begins in openness and humility. It will not be easy.

Now is the Time to Take Action on Police Education and Training

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By: Lane A. Glenn, President, Northern Essex Community College
Brian Kyes, Chief of Police, City of Chelsea, and President, Massachusetts Major Cities Chiefs of Police
Paul Tucker, State Representative, 7th Essex District, and former City of Salem Chief of Police

Last month’s murder of George Floyd, a black man, handcuffed, on the ground, and in custody, at the hands of Derek Chauvin, a white Minneapolis police officer, was reprehensible and senselessly tragic.

It was also, as an open letter from the U.S. Major Cities Chiefs Association, signed by dozens of police chiefs from America’s largest cities declared, “by any measure of professional policing unnecessary, avoidable and criminal.”

The Massachusetts Police Chiefs have also made a similar declaration “strongly denouncing the egregious behavior exhibited by the Minneapolis police officers leading to the tragic death of George Floyd.”

As the nation, already struggling with one of the greatest health care and economic crises we have ever faced, has spent the days since George Floyd’s death grappling with our collective history of racism and injustice, otherwise peaceful protests in major cities across the country, including Boston, have turned into scenes of angry riots, violence, and destruction.

 

Nearly all of the protesters in those cities have been rightfully expressing their outrage and demanding change in nonviolent ways, while an isolated group of destructive agitators have infiltrated the peaceful demonstrations to take advantage of their pain to burn, to steal, and to inflict harm.

The vast majority of police officers respect their careers, and take their oaths, as a higher calling to uphold the law, and to protect those they serve, even as some violate those oaths, disregard the law, and cause harm themselves, to the dismay and disappointment to those who are committed to their profession.

Police and protesters across the country are finding common ground: They all want to stop these senseless, avoidable, criminal acts from happening again.

There is more that we cannot only say, but do, to get there; and for us, it begins with reforms in education, training, and public policy.

Education is the key to overcoming generational cycles of racism and poverty that still push African American, Latinx, and other communities of color to the margins of American society; and it is the key to improving the knowledge, behavior and responses of police officers at critical moments.

Several national studies have demonstrated the value of postsecondary education for policing by showing that college educated police officers have better communication skills, a better comprehension of civil rights issues from multiple perspectives, receive fewer complaints and disciplinary actions, and are less likely to use deadly force, among other benefits.

While many departments, municipalities, or entire states have implemented increased educational requirements, or at least enhanced options for educational requirements, there is currently no statutory or regulatory minimum educational requirement for police officers in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, with the exception of communities whose officers are covered by Civil Service requirements of a high school diploma or equivalency certificate.

Higher education and law enforcement leaders have been working closely together to improve police education and training and move us in the right direction.

The Police Academy at Northern Essex Community College, launched in 2015 as a partnership with the Massachusetts Municipal Police Training Committee (MPTC) and the police departments of Haverhill, Lawrence, Methuen, North Andover, and Amesbury, has become one of the largest municipal academies in the state, with a current class of nearly 90 cadets and over 400 graduates working in dozens of departments across the Commonwealth. In addition to receiving their necessary academy training, recruits can earn up to nine credits toward an associate degree in criminal justice at NECC.

The Police Certification Concentration at Fitchburg State University is a five-year program, also partnering with the MPTC, that allows students to earn a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree in criminal justice as well as certification to serve as a police officer in Massachusetts.

And in 2017, a group of police chiefs, educators, state and municipal leaders served on a special Massachusetts Department of Higher Education task force on Police Education and Training that developed a number of important recommendations — some of which have been implemented, while others still await action.

Here are some specific steps that elected officials, higher education, and law enforcement leaders can take, separately and together, to keep this momentum moving, to fight the scourges of racism and economic inequality, and ensure the most professional and capable police education and training possible:

Colleges should examine every institutional policy and practice, especially recruitment, admissions, and financial aid, to ensure they are providing the widest possible access to higher education, especially for low income and minority applicants.

Colleges should also rigorously examine data on outcomes like retention and graduation rates and close the gaps in student success, particularly between low income and minority students, and more affluent white students.

Colleges, police departments, and agencies like the Massachusetts Municipal Police Training Committee should work collaboratively to offer more training academies that are integrated with higher education opportunities, with a particular emphasis on recruiting people of color into careers in law enforcement.

The legislature should pass, and Governor Baker should approve, House Bill 2146: A Bill Forming a Special Commission to Create a Statewide Peace Officer Standards and Training (POST) System. Massachusetts is one of only six states that doesn’t license police officers under a common system, which can make it difficult to regulate training requirements as well as hiring standards.

The legislature should pass, and Governor Baker should approve, House Bill 3810: An Act Relative to Police Education and Training, which would require a minimum of an associate’s degree in criminal justice or a related field, for all police officers in the Commonwealth.

Now is a time for caring and compassion, for peaceful demonstrating and for protesting against criminal behavior that we cannot tolerate for another day.

Most importantly, it is a time to take action so we never find ourselves in this place again.

 

[Lane Glenn is the president of Northern Essex Community College. Check out his “Running the Campus” blog, which features stories and perspectives on leadership, higher education, and going the extra mile, by clicking here.]

 

 

A Message from GLFHC President and CEO John Silva

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In 1965, Jack Geiger and Count Gibson started the country’s first community health centers, one in Mound Bayou, Mississippi and one in Boston, Massachusetts. They were the result of a dream to bring primary care into communities with no medical access or facilities. These communities were located in the poorest parts of our cities and the most rural parts of our country. They were the homes of the poor, destitute and forgotten. The residents were black, brown and white. They had no jobs, poor schools and no future. The country, OUR country, ignored them, pretended they didn’t exist, abused, assaulted and demonized them. This was just the way it was.

So little has changed in 55 years. So much remains the same. Yet there is hope. When community health centers first came on the scene in 1965, they were considered a threat to established medicine. They served the poor. They were run by their patients. They saw everyone regardless of race, creed, education, employment or beliefs. Much of America called them socialist, incompetent, only fit for the poor, substandard and a joke. They were hated, attacked, marginalized and ignored. The communities they were located in saw them as miracles, an answer to their prayers and this new way of community activism, addressing chronic problems themselves, grew and flourished and thrived.

 

Communities such as Lawrence — poor, working class, struggling for jobs, food, medical care and respect — established community groups determined to bring health care to their homes and community. These groups, made up of white, black and brown, rural, urban, gay, straight, agnostic, Christian, Jewish and Muslim folks, throughout America, were simply tired of being ignored, minimalized, hated and discriminated against. They were tired of their babies dying and their life expectancy 20-30% less than white communities. They wanted their kids to be healthy, their parents to be cared for, and their babies to thrive. All across this country, from 1965 through today, communities of color, communities of poverty, communities forgotten rose up and demanded the right to health care and they did it themselves and they did it well. They did it with guts, passion, belief and determination and they won!

Today, there are over 1,400 community health centers in America operating more than 11,000 health center locations and serving 30 million patients. They are all located in underserved and socially or geographically isolated communities and provide community owned access to health care for all, regardless of who they are, what they look like, where they do or don’t work or what they believe. They (we) are the foundation of this nation’s primary care system and the bedrock of our communities. We are a rainbow in a dark threatening sky. A rainbow of colors, beliefs, and cultures. We are what this country and this world should be and could be if we would just love, listen and respect our differences and leave hate behind.

Greater Lawrence Family Health Center (GLFHC) stands with our brothers and sisters against racism, hatred, bigotry, discrimination and violence. We believe that black lives matter. We believe everyone matters. We believe that all people are created equal and we know it is way past time for change.

Community health centers are the best example of social change through community activism. Please know that GLFHC and every health center across this troubled nation stands proud and strong with our community, our patients and our staff. Racism is unacceptable and must be confronted and stopped. God bless all of you in this time of illness, social distancing and discord. Working together, staying strong in our beliefs and remaining determined not to accept the status quo, we can change the world and we will … we must.

I am so thankful for GLFHC’s 600-plus dedicated employees who work tirelessly every day for our patients and our community.

About GLFHC: The mission of Greater Lawrence Family Health Center is to improve and maintain the health of individuals and families in the Merrimack Valley by providing a network of high quality, comprehensive health care services and by training health care professionals to respond to the needs of a culturally diverse population. More than 62,000 patients depend on GLFHC for their primary health care needs at locations in Lawrence and Methuen. For more information, visit GLFHC.org.

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