Author: Allyson Ryder

So often in our society, I hear how we crave opportunities for our children to explore, to tinker, and to figure out who they are in this world. We are all for our youth getting outside or into the kitchen or workshop to help make sense of what the world offers them.

What is often missing from this narrative is giving space for our kids to explore who they are and what they offer to the world. In fact, we can often find this downright threatening especially when it comes to exploring one’s race, sexual orientation, sex, gender and culture.

I see the fear of these types of examinations rippling throughout our entire public education system here in New Hampshire and our country as a whole. There are laws and policies being passed that dictate what a teacher can instruct on race, or what name a child can (or cannot) go by, and limit discussions around family structures. There are demands that parents must be notified of all that is being discussed in our K-12 schools with threats of lawsuits being made if those requirements are not met.

In Manchester, there is a lawsuit filed over chosen name practices within that district. We have HB2 in place, which white lawmakers adopted to limit discussions around race in our classrooms. In Mississippi, an administrator was terminated for reading a book titled “I Need a New Butt” to second-graders, and we cannot forget the recent legislation passed in Texas and Florida with really damaging practices put in place to further oppress LGBTQIA+ youth.

These are all motivated by fear but I’m not sure what the fear is about. Do we truly not believe our children are capable of learning more about themselves? To better understand the complexities and possibilities each of our identities hold? Is it that there is a belief that if they learned this information then they would be able to have better agency over their own bodies, their own lives, in a way that threatens the “norm”?

Our kids are beautiful and resilient humans. All trauma specialists talk about the need to build healthy resilience, which comes through conversation, connection and self-responsibility. Avoidance, unfortunately, does not get us there and stunts us against reaching our true potential.

I hope we can embrace and find the same level of fulfillment from self-exploration as we do exploration of the outside world. We can understand a lot from our children, and I believe they will be our greatest teachers in redeveloping our curiosity.

February has finally arrived and with it comes Black History Month. Having lived in New Hampshire for a significant portion of my life, I have only recently become aware of all the wonderful events happening across the state during this commemorative month. For those who, like me, wish to address racial injustice and to work for a more integrated nation, here are some things I’ll be doing to expand my commitment.

Attend a Black Heritage Trail of NH Tea Talk. This year’s series is being offered virtually with an in-person option with limited capacity on the subject of “Courage Conversations: Leaning in for Change.” For the 2022 Elinor Williams Hooker Tea Talks Series, BHTNH will work collectively to create a safe space for meaningful interchanges, grounded in history and lived experience between different segments of the Black, Indigenous, People of Color (BIPOC) community. We will also investigate the current issues that continue to create tension in the community. All talks are on Sundays from 2 to 3:30 p.m. and are free of charge. More information can be found at blackheritagetrailnh.org.

Address legislation impacting racial justice in New Hampshire. There are several bills in this year’s legislative session that will have an impact on how our state’s public education systems are able to practice their right to teach our students. The most promising, SB304, counters the harmful HB2 “divisive concepts” bill that has sent a chill throughout our state’s public institutions, especially K-12, in their efforts to address inclusion and equality especially around race. Passage means removing provisions concerning freedom from discrimination in public workplaces and education, and would clarify the authority of public schools and public employers concerning discrimination.

There are two additional bills that are looking to limit free speech and free expression in the classroom. HB1313 expands HB2 to include public higher education and limit the essence of higher education learning by promoting the omission and silencing conversation on important parts of our nation’s history as it relates to race and other protected identities. HB1255 seeks to ban New Hampshire public school teachers from promoting any “negative account or representation of the founding and history of the U.S.”

Explore my own biases and assumptions This is, for me, the most critical piece of this work. What is my vision for our society and what role will I play in helping to create this? I need to know that I am not free of racial biases and healing myself of these comes from self-responsibility, patience, love and mindfulness.

This work, of course, doesn’t end in February. This is a years-long journey and it will continue to require collective community to bring about the change.

On Nov. 9 UNH will be hosting its second program in the 2021-2022 Sidore Lecture Series. The topic will be Caregiving: Honor and Burden, Contributions, and Impact, and it will feature local and national subject matter leaders. All are invited to attend this virtual (and free) Zoom session.

My own involvement with caregiving is a personal one at both a familial and a community level. Having spent my entire life in New England, I have seen the ways the belief in individualism can ripple out into communal care. My grandmother hid her memory loss from her family and my Péperé struggled with managing his diabetes because neither one wanted to be seen as a burden. Relying on one another can seem counter to many of the values I’ve seen espoused in whiteness.

Intergenerational relationships have been paramount in my life and I see the ways that these connections have held mutual benefit for all involved. I can literally say I wouldn’t be where I am in life without them. There is something beautiful when we can honor the experiences and humanity of each other and, especially for me, when it transcends many of the social norms we’ve been conditioned to expect.

Being a member of the LGBTQIA community has given me heightened appreciation of the role of caregiving. The experiences shared with me from the “elders” are ones I’ll never find in the history books.

As the AIDS epidemic devastated the gay population, there were many members of their chosen family who were there to offer the care needed to navigate the virus. The stories I’ve heard are both heart-wrenching and uplifting as they have demonstrated the true value of love when we are at our most vulnerable.

As I’ve navigated this process, I can sense the fear of becoming too needy or overly relying on other people to live my life. I find this to be a devastating side effect to the notion of freedom and I often wonder what lies beneath these fears. Do we truly believe we are not an interdependent species? That without you there really cannot be a me?

Caregiving is a two-way street and I encourage all readers to tune into this important program on Nov. 9. You can find more information by searching “UNH Sidore Lecture” or just email me for the link. I am excited about the possibility presented in how we view this critical part of our society. We may be the “Live Free or Die” state but, maybe, we can begin to consider a new path grounded less in burden and more in honor, contributions and impact.

Memorial Day and Labor Day are our unofficial bookends of summer and both offer spaces for reflecting and honoring their roles in U.S. history.

I remember, vividly, the Memorial Day school concerts and parades throughout my childhood but I cannot say the same is true for Labor Day.

On June 28, 1894, Grover Cleveland made Labor Day a federal holiday. At their height in 1954, 34.8 percent of all U.S. wage and salary workers, public and private, belonged to a union; today that number is 10.8 percent.

The private sector is where most of the losses have come, which saw membership slide from 16.8 percent in 1985 to 6.7 percent in 2015. Who is protecting our most vulnerable workers, often low-wage earners, if unionization is not allowed? That’s a reality that has been facing our nation for several decades now. The stagnant wages, lack of access to health care and retirement benefits, and disintegration of the middle class over my lifetime cannot simply be coincidences.

Although some may argue that there is no longer a need for these protections, I would beg to differ. I think of Amazon and Walmart employees who have, for years, worked to try and unionize only to have their efforts thwarted through political tactics. Unions have consistently worked to put the power in the hands of the people and that can be threatening to many in executive-level positions.

Right to Work bills are presented each legislative session in New Hampshire and across the country. Although it hasn’t yet passed in the Granite State, I worry that it’s inevitable that it will eventually become law.

Much like most of our systems, labor unions are not perfect. They have their own dark history of racism, sexism, political manipulation and many other tools of oppression. But, at their essence, the organized labor movement is what helped to create safe and healthy places for people to work. They helped to build the United States and we cannot forget that as we enjoy our annual long weekend.

I cannot imagine a world today where a woman with an eighth-grade education and for whom English was a second language would find a job that not only paid a living wage but also helped to save for retirement, reasonable hours and good health insurance benefits. Yet that’s exactly the story of my Nan, who worked for a private manufacturer in Nashua for her entire life. She was able to appreciate class mobility and, in turn, so have I.

I hope we can find the space to move out of the political polarization of unions and appreciate their role in giving our most vulnerable populations a space to survive and thrive.

Two activities that seemingly share little in common are the two that hold the most life lessons for me: golf and mountain biking.

Rarely do I walk away from these activities without new insights and appreciation of a multitude of issues. The top three that I work to fold into my life regularly are these:

• Trust your instincts

• Know your environment, and

• Focus on where you want to go.

There is much to be said about all of these and each will present itself differently on any given day. The unexpected thunderstorm on the golf course or a fallen tree on the middle of the trail teach me how to remain nimble while working to keep myself safe. Admittedly, I have a difficult time embracing any of these three thoughts on a given day but none more so than the last one.

I’ve been completely conditioned to think about all the spaces and places I don’t want to be. This fixation demands so much of my time and attention that I am not able to see the possibilities that lie in front of me.

When I’m trying to avoid the sand bunker on the golf course, I am not seeing the hundreds of yards of grass surrounding that one area. If I want to steer clear of a rock on the trail, I often miss the intricate carvings of the dirt that winds around it. In the end, I, unfortunately, usually end up going in the one place I did not want to go.

Conversely, when I have found those rare moments when I can focus on the where I want to go or be, it seems to just flow without my even realizing it. My body adapts with gentle encouragement and I achieve my goal with much less effort.

In a larger societal context, I know that I’m operating from the trance of fear in more ways than I wish to share. I know I’m in my healthiest space when I am seeing things from the space of possibility instead of the constriction of anxiety.

Take, for example, discussions around race. These no longer scare me because I see them as an opportunity to better fully understand this country and all who call it home. This took time to shift my perspective but I’m so grateful for all of those who lifted up my chin from the micro vision and helped me to see the bigger picture.

We need not be afraid of what isn’t when there is so much more to what could be.

The stores are full of patriotic paraphernalia right now. I can skip past the metallic flag pinwheels; the red, white and blue wreaths; even the super-fuzzy flag blanket. But anything emblazoned with “America the Beautiful”? I start singing.

Katherine Lee Bates wrote the poem that would become the lyrics of our unofficial national anthem in 1893, inspired by the vista from Pikes Peak in Colorado. Samuel Augustus Ward had composed the melody earlier and in 1910 the words and music were wed. To me as a kid, “America the Beautiful” ranked right up there in holiness with “Silent Night.” Fifty years later at a family reunion I shivered with emotion as we cousins from across the country sang it together. Imagine my delight during this year of division when I stumbled on a new rendition by New Hampshire folk musician Steve Schuch. Weaving together Bates’ words and others inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Schuch and collaborators created a version that seeks to unite all ages, colors, religions and voices, a vision of America for everyone. You can listen and download sheet music at americathedream.org.

Another iteration of “America the Beautiful” is in a recent report recommending how to meet President Biden’s ambitious “30 by 30” environmental goal. Biden’s challenge to Americans is to conserve at least 30 percent of our lands and waters by 2030. Although the report describes principles rather than plans, one step endorsed is creation of a Civilian Climate Corps. Echoing FDR’s Civilian Conservation Corps, Biden’s program would put a new, diverse generation of Americans to work in well-paid jobs that restore the environment and build community resilience to climate extremes. Unlike the original CCC, Biden’s would include women and people of color.

I hiked Mt. Pemigewasset last week. It’s a popular mountain in Franconia Notch, not as rigorous as the towering 4,000-footers but high enough to provide a spectacular vista. Stepping out of pine forest onto bare ledges near the summit sent strains of “America the Beautiful” pulsing through me. According to New Hampshire’s 52 with a View: A Hiker’s Guide, Frank O. Carpenter wrote about this “striking view” and the “rugged shoulders of LaFayette” in his own guidebook in 1898, not long after Bates penned her anthemic poem. In the 1930s, Roosevelt’s CCC cleared hiking and ski trails in this area, enabling generations to appreciate New Hampshire’s beauty.

I’m grateful to those who inspire me with their words and music and to those who have protected some of our lands and waters. I am hopeful that a new generation of much more environment-concerned Americans can lead the way in meeting the 30 percent by 2030 challenge. That’s the Americana I buy.

Over my nine years working at Leadership NH, we often asked the participants: “What kind of state do we have and what kind of state do we want?” I am disheartened when I see legislation like HB 266, HB 434, and, of course, HB 544 in this year’s session. All of them work to undermine the kind of state that I want by working to impose anti-immigration efforts that law enforcement across the state oppose (HB 266), and attack reproductive health (HB 434), and remove conversations about one’s race and sex in all of our public spaces (HB 544). 

While many of our lawmakers are working to outlaw our existing inclusive practices, they are also upholding and expanding laws that put some of our most vulnerable populations at risk. 

Earlier in the year, the House tabled HB 238, a bill that would prohibit a defendant in a manslaughter case from using the alleged victim’s sexuality or gender identity as a defense for why the defendant was provoked into action as well as any actual or perceived romantic advances made by the victim.   

Our state made national headlines when the House voted to expand “stand your ground” laws. Under current law, someone can use deadly force to protect themselves and their family during the commission of a felony inside their homes. The bill sent to the Senate would expand that self-defense law to cases in which a felony is committed against a person in a vehicle. 

Fear is clearly the motive behind so many of these bills, and this is only a small sampling of what our legislators are debating in this legislative year. When fright is at the core of the work, it limits what we and our state can accomplish and become into the future.

What decision have you made out of distress that resulted in happiness? I have a hard time remembering any of my anxiety-based decisions resulting in true contentment, and I imagine I’m not alone in that struggle. 

If you, like me, want New Hampshire to foster a culture that centers on humanity and potential then we must act to stop these bills from becoming law. Reach out to your elected officials, neighbors, friends and colleagues, and encourage them to act against these efforts. There is promise on the horizon but we cannot favor complacency in getting there. Otherwise the state we have may no longer be the state we want.  

A few weeks ago, the Union Leader printed a story with the bold headline “NH scores among the top when it comes to race and health equality.”

The article was based on a recent report by the Health Opportunity and Equity (HOPE) Initiative and it pulled statistics stating that 67 percent of Black adults in New Hampshire have “very good or excellent” health compared to 59 percent of whites and 56 percent of Hispanics in the state.

Only at the end of the Union Leader piece was there a passing mention of the disproportionate impact of the Covid-19 pandemic on BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) communities. I am struggling to see how these facts were not taken under consideration prior to going to print.

The Governor’s Covid-19 Equity Response Team (GCERT) provided their Initial Report and Recommendations to Gov. Sununu in July 2020. In their 50-page analysis, the group of public health experts from across the state provided a clear statistical case about these disparities and highlighted the full range of determinants, which often have racial bias woven into their fabric.

The GCERT report examined the cases of Covid-19 based on one’s racial-ethnic identity. Unfortunately, these are not always reliable statistics, primarily because our systems often do not do a good job of capturing demographic information accurately and completely, as we’ve seen with the Covid disparities data — as is also seen across the country according to the Covid Tracking Project. Additionally, given the reality of institutional and systemic racism, some individuals may not want to reveal their true racial-ethnic identity out of concern for potential discrimination.

One important contributing factor that wasn’t covered in the article is how our relatively rural state was impacted by the opioid crisis. In our nation’s health care model, white people are often doing “better” because we are being compared to communities of color; otherwise we, too, would have poor health outcomes. The closing line in the analysis section of the HOPE report summarized this reality: “Although white populations generally fare better on most measures of opportunity than most other populations in the state, white adults in New Hampshire have higher rates of premature mortality.”

Headlines are often not the full story. If we are truly committed to being a state where everyone has equal opportunity for good health then we are going to need to seek truth in the lived experiences of people who are suffering disproportionate impacts — including for both the Covid-19 pandemic and the opioid crisis. The GCERT report provides a solid starting place to truly create a healthy state where all structures support belonging, equity and good health for all.

We have selected a new president and vice president for the United States and as happy as I am with the results I can say that a lot of places within me hurt. Insights gleaned from this particular election have caused me to pause because they serve as unfortunate reminders of how deep our ache runs.
Where my heart feels pain the most is around racism. Donald Trump did not create this system and, as we work to create a more just society, it’s clear that there is much to be addressed to eradicate the disease that has permeated the fabric of this nation. Although he is not guilty of establishing oppression, I don’t feel as if he ever had a sense of obligation to address it, either. In fact, I believe he intentionally fed the sickness with a toxic, sometimes deadly, dose of lies and “othering.” 
These tactics manifested in a myriad of ways, starting in the executive branch and trickling down to our communities across the country. From locking innocent children away in cages to putting gag orders on those who are working each and every day to bring awareness to the systems of privilege to attempted lynching here in our own state. When you offer cover and opportunity for those most afflicted by addiction to indulge with reckless abandon, there will be consequences.
We, of course, chose to fight with one another in a variety of ways. I am not innocent of this and, looking back, neither am I proud of this. I played along with the game and I’m walking away wounded as I abandoned my dedication to love and connection in a culture that is doing its best to tear us apart.
I try to find not justification but purpose as one of my survival mechanisms. For me, the last four years, in the depths of darkness, the stars shined the brightest. Those stars cannot and will not go away in my life even under a new administration.  
Listening to Vice President-elect Kamala Harris and President-elect Joe Biden speak brought me relief but it did not heal the pain. Just as no one person got us here, no one person can lead us out.  We must come together — unified in our purpose — to do that.
The great civil rights activist and icon Ruby Sales was interviewed by Krista Tippett for the On Being radio show where she talked about the collective pain of our nation. She asked all listeners to find the source of the pain and to explore it with curiosity, compassion and love. I can think of no better commitment for each of us to take on in these times.
Allyson Ryder serves in a variety of statewide capacities to address social justice. She can be reached by email at almryder@outlook.com

My submission this month was submitted past deadline, an uncharacteristic practice for me. There is just so much going on and it’s hard to find the space to pull it all into words. The grand jury result regarding Breonna Taylor’s murder and the death of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg are weighing heavily on my mind.

Both of these situations can be addressed through voting, but they certainly hold very different spaces on the ballot. One is determined through our higher offices, those of the president and senators, and the other through local elections.

We often spend so much time focusing on the high offices, a space where our realm of control is not as acute, and overlook equally critical roles in our own backyards such as county attorney and sheriff. I am guilty of this as well, as I can tell you far more about Joe Biden or Donald Trump than I ever could about my county and town officials.

Daniel Cameron, the Attorney General in Kentucky, was elected to office, not governor-appointed like here in New Hampshire. His office determined what charges to pursue in the Breonna Taylor case. They held her fate and there are many across the country, myself included, who feel like he was the lead in denying her the justice she deserved.

This is not to say that we shouldn’t pay close attention to our presidential election or United States Senate races. The vacancy on the Supreme Court has made many of us acutely aware of how much these roles matter in terms of our individual and collective rights, but I believe they’re often prioritized over the races that we have the most input and control over.

As November inches ever closer, take a look at your municipality’s sample ballot. How many names do you recognize? If there are several who are unfamiliar to you, take a few hours to research the candidates and determine whether they fit the ideals you have for your town, county, state and nation.

The next time my piece is published, we will have, in theory, determined who will be sitting in the Oval Office for the next four years. We will also have selected a governor, state Representatives, a state Senator, executive councilors, sheriffs, county commissioners, and many, many more officials.

I hope you’ll join me in making a little extra effort, to move beyond party and politics, and ensure we are fulfilling our obligations as “the people.” We are, after all, the ones with the most power in the United States.