When 'Freedom & Unity' Mean Something: A Veterans Day Reflection

Last night, Vermont experienced its first substantial storm of the season. Between six and twenty inches of snow now blanket the encampments, vehicle-homes, and unheated apartments where too many of our marginalized neighbors are trying to survive. As I write this on Veterans Day, I’m thinking about what abstract phrases like “freedom & unity” and “justice for all” actually mean for those of us committed to this work.

Two generations. Two wars. My grandfather in his World War One uniform, me in Iraq. Military service in America has always drawn disproportionately from working families, rural communities, and those seeking a path forward. Not from privilege, but from places where service meant something—or was simply the best option available.

There’s something about wearing a uniform: we all look more inherently equal. And here’s what civilians often misunderstand about veterans—we don’t fight for a flag or even our country. We fight for each other. I was honored to fight alongside my poor, BIPOC, and queer comrades. That’s when freedom and love for one another stopped being abstract words and became something real.

I’m grateful I had the opportunity to serve a nation that professes “justice for all.” Green Mountain Justice is committed to showing up and fighting for our marginalized neighbors. Not with charity, but with relationship. Not for a season, but by staying. Even when it gets hard. For me, that’s the America we fought for.

What “Staying” Looks Like

This week alone, we’ve helped three previously unhoused and housing-insecure families move into housing. Carol and Dave moved M and her kids into their new home in Brandon. Tomorrow, Corey and I are delivering furniture to M & L in Rutland. On Friday, we’re bringing apartment warming gifts to Jerome. These aren’t transactions—they’re celebrations of neighbors finding home, of relationships that have sustained people through impossible circumstances, of the dignity that comes from knowing someone sees you and refuses to give up.

Our Warmth with Dignity campaign has already protected twelve neighbors with EMPWR Convertible Coats. But it’s not just about the coats—though they quite literally save lives in weather like last night’s. It’s about handing the coat to someone who knows were in a relationship of care with them, giving them a grocery card to take the trip or two to the store like the rest of us instead of their only option of free food shelves. It’s the ongoing relationship, the message that says: you matter, you belong, we’re not going anywhere.

The Work Continues

While we’re still very much struggling to get our fundraising systems going, our work is not going unnoticed. Next week, Burlington’s Seven Days will run an article mentioning GMJ and our work to stand up and administer Vermont’s emergency cold weather shelters across the state. Thanks to our board chair Jason, Vermont Public has picked up on our Voices from the Edge podcast series—which means the voices too often unheard might be breaking through. GMJ and our series are to be featured on Vermont Edition very soon.

This recognition matters not because we need validation, but because it amplifies the voices of our neighbors who are systematically silenced. When Jessica describes her experience working two jobs and living in a motel room with her three kids for almost two year. When Jerome tells his story as a Black man trying to make a life after loss in Vermont. When Matt and Liz explain how fast the bottom can fall out and the struggle to hold on to life and each other in today’s systems. These stories need to reach beyond the margins—they need to reshape how all of us understand what “freedom and unity” actually requires.

One Relationship at a Time

I don’t exactly know when or even if Beloved Community will be a reality in our American society. The forces arrayed against the marginalized are powerful, entrenched, and self-reinforcing. Some mornings—especially mornings after storms like last night—the work feels impossible. And the privileged have grown comfortable with the status quo.

But I do know that this ministry, this work, these collaborations are creating beloved community in our Vermont ‘community of communities’ one relationship at a time. When Carol and Dave help a family move into home. When volunteers show up at Neighbors’ Table week after week. When someone receives a coat that transforms into a sleeping bag and knows they matter enough for us to care about their survival and their dignity.

That’s what liberty looks like when it gets off the page and into the world.

My Ask

So if you want to honor veterans today, here’s my ask: Don’t just thank us for our service. Serve. Reach out to a neighbor who’s struggling. Learn their name. Show up. Stay.

That’s what “justice for all” means when it stops being words on a monument and becomes the way we move through the world. That’s what “freedom and unity” looks like when privilege expends itself for equity.

Care. Connect. Collaborate.

Learn more and support our work at greenmountainjustice.org.