Author: Allyson Ryder

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 [email protected]

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.

The final months of summer gardening are always met with mixed emotions. This is often when the plants we have worked so hard to grow come to fruition and are ready for harvest. It is also the time when the impacts of bugs, drought and animals are felt more acutely, and the mature plants require more care to keep them producing the glorious vegetables during this harvest season.

There is so much to learn about life through gardening as it teaches you that the work is never done, growth requires care and attention, and to produce results you have to put in the time. All too often, when embarking on anti-racism efforts, fellow white people (myself included) often want to see the fruit without the labor. There are many times where we say, “please just tell me what to do” without having the context or the history for why this particular action is needed. Without this foundational understanding, it can be difficult to commit to the work in meaningful and long-term ways.

The scope and importance of becoming more aware of whiteness takes time to dig into the depths of our subconscious, to unearth long-held beliefs and thought patterns that many argue are imprinted into our DNA over generations. It takes quiet reflection, sitting the discomfort of acknowledging our own dirt, picking away at our bugs, having conversations with people to help us clear the weeds, and fertilizing our soil with knowledge. Due to our social conditioning, the gardens of white people, in particular, need the investment of time, curiosity and labor to understand what lies beneath.

The beautiful upside to this work is knowing that it will produce the results we want. There are literally hundreds of years of learning to unlearn but we are so lucky to have books by James Baldwin, Audre Lorde, bell hooks, Maya Angelou, and countless other Black authors to read, social media accounts to follow and films to watch. In the moment, it may feel overwhelming and hard to understand where it will lead us, but we have to trust the process and our own labor in the work.

Gardening is not an easy process. The path to success is not clear or linear, and there are variables that will constantly pop up, and work to deter us from seeing the work through until maturity. The same is absolutely true to on the path to becoming anti-racist. There are going to be moments of appreciation, gratitude, frustration, sadness, and fear. Despite all of this, those who take on the work know one thing to be true: In the end, it will be worth it.