[Speaker 6] (1:52 - 6:14)
Hello everyone, welcome. Thank you for joining our townwide celebration Black History is Our History. My name is Kelly Katib and I'm chair of SHORE Diversity.

SHORE stands for Swampscot Unites, Respects, and Embraces Diversity. Diversity isn't only race, sex, gender, age, or ethnicity. It includes the numerous characteristics that we share in common as well as those that make us unique such as values, socioeconomic status, religious and political perspectives, ability, and culture.

Too often differences become sources of tension. Thank you for joining our townwide celebration Black History is Our History. SHORE is a volunteer organization formed in 2016 during a time like we are currently in where all the progress made feels threatened and marginalized individuals are becoming more isolated.

If diversity inspires you during this time we would love it if you would join us. Please find a volunteer and be sure to sign up so that we have your name. We are thrilled to welcome you to our fourth annual Black History is Our History celebration.

All of us, our history. With a population that is less than two percent black in Swampscot, it is important for us to acknowledge this fact. This is the history of America.

It is our combined story that makes the American story. The accomplishments of people of African descent have been suppressed for so long which is why we celebrate Black History Month in February. We are hopeful that one day as we become more familiar and more united that we will celebrate Black History.

We will no longer have to celebrate Black History in a month and it will be felt as our history, our story, American history. We are delighted to have with us today the combined Swanscot High and Middle School bands, the Big Blue Step Squad who performed earlier, as well as Enzo Salon Surin as our featured poet and moderator. Enzo will lead a unique discussion with a panel of community members and students and at the end of our event we will introduce our next exciting event as a continuation of this one.

We would like to thank our sponsors who provided financial support, the Town of Swampscot, Justice for All from Sherrod Hayum, Paul Tucker, the Essex County DA, our partners Metco, First Church, Swampscot Historical Commission, and the Lynn Museum have helped in various logistical and supportive ways to make this evening possible. I'd like to acknowledge the Select Board, the Town Administrator Gina Acresta and the School Board for their support. We want to thank State Representative Jenny Armini for her help for this project as well as Swampscot's Chief of Police Dr. Ruben Quesada. Chief Quesada is a shore member and will participate on a panel later this evening. Lastly and most importantly I want to thank all the students that are here tonight and your families. We hope that this experience will inspire you to learn more.

Now we will hear from the combined high school-middle school band directed by Ed Rovey. Following that, Vice Principal of the middle school Emily Zotto will share her observations and introduce the Essex County District Attorney who will say a few words. Please welcome Swampscot Band and Director Ed Rovey.

[Speaker 10] (9:57 - 11:11)
That was awesome, Swampscot High School Band. Thank you so much Mr. Rovey Band. That was great.

Thank you. I'm Emily Zotto. I'm the Assistant Principal at our Swampscot Middle School and I'm joined here today by Nina and Angel.

We're improvising a little bit. This was not on the original plan or program. When I think about Swampscot, the word that comes to my mind is pride and being proud in the school that we come to every day, the students that we get to work with every day, and the education, the outcomes, the people, the relationships, the learning that we are able to do because of people like you.

And when we were getting ready for tonight, we were discussing in the lobby. I'm not going to put you on the spot again, but I will a little bit. When you think about Swampscot, what are some words or phrases that come to mind?

And the students brainstormed and staff and some police officers were there too. Some ideas about what makes Swampscot unique in that people want to come out to an event like this and support one another and you guys had some really good thoughts. Would you share some of those thoughts?

[Speaker 13] (11:12 - 11:30)
Please. I said giving because while some people might not be able to give financially, there are a lot of people who are willing to give in terms of time. A lot of people take the time out of their day to come and support and be a part of things, which is nice.

[Speaker 14] (11:31 - 11:31)
Thank you.

[Speaker 12] (11:33 - 11:49)
I said living room, but what I meant to say was probably friends. And I was just picturing a living room full of friends because that's what it feels like to be in Swampscot because you guys have been really welcoming.

[Speaker 14] (11:52 - 11:55)
Thank you.

[Speaker 10] (11:55 - 12:45)
You can stay. Other words that the students and staff used were inclusive, family, close-knit. You have the opportunity to interact with so many different people.

Relationships. Giving. I loved that one.

Positivity was another one. And I think you see that from we've got babies here and we have older folks here always coming out to support one another. And our commitment in Swampscot is what makes us proud is really our commitment to our students and our families and our community.

And so with that, we just wanted to say thank you as a group and continue to help build a community where we have that level of commitment and we can have pride because we have a community that dedicates itself to its community members. Thank you. Oh, Mr. Paul Tucker. Thank you. DA's office. Thank you.

Welcome. Thanks, guys.

[Speaker 5] (12:48 - 18:05)
Thank you very much. Boy, that band is awesome. And talk about the right musical selection.

Stand by me. Isn't that perfect for tonight? Isn't it?

Very much so. Thank you to them. So there's something very special happening here tonight.

And I could feel it as soon as I came in the door, the front doors of the high school. I'd only been here one of the time. I was here a couple of months ago.

I spoke to one of the classes about the job I have and civil rights and due process and very attentive group of Swampscot students. So for the second time when I came to this building tonight, I was excited to come here because I knew that something special was going to happen. And one of the benefits of being able to make remarks at any public forum is something that I call the view.

It's the opportunity to stand here and to look out and see all of you collectively together, standing outside, watching that beautiful dance routine, looking at all the all of the placards and the work that everybody had done to put this together. The view from here is amazing. And this is the view of what I see when I think about what the United States should stand for.

I see a caring community. I see diversity. I see people from all walks of life coming together collectively, bringing something special.

And that's what I see here tonight. The theme for me this evening is community. Thank you very much.

Coming to a caring community that I know Swampscot is. It's about breaking down barriers. It's about breaking down real barriers, artificial barriers, reaching over community lines into Lynn and Salem and Marblehead, doing something together.

It also gives me the opportunity to say thank you. We have some special guests that came this evening, three judges, community people from Marblehead and Swampscot, Judge Archia, Judge Howard Hogan, Judge Broadbent. Thank you for being here.

They are community judges in our district courts, and it means a lot to join folks. I also want to say thank you to Kelly Katib and Ralph Edwards, who I know put so much work in behind this. There's so many things that happen that don't always make the headlines, but because of the work that folks like this do, we have successful evenings.

I also never want to miss the opportunity to thank our public safety partners, Chief Gazardo and the men and women of the police department and the fire department, who is also here this evening. I had a long career in the police department in Salem. I know the work that these men and women do, all hours, all weather, all days, and they do it 24-7.

They protect all of us. Chief, thank you and your men and women in the department very much. I just want to tell you a quick story, if I may.

On Saturday morning, I had the opportunity at the Lynn Museum to speak to the NAACP. Second year, I went in a row, and it was a forum, and it talked about safety, education, housing, food insecurity, and I felt the same way then as I do now. People coming together against the backdrop and the landscape of a very, very difficult time, and the fear, the anxiety, the trepidation that I felt when I was at that NAACP meeting on Saturday is real.

The fear is real. It's real in our immigrant communities. My youngest daughter is a public school teacher.

The attendance of some of our immigrant community members has dropped. We know that there are people that are afraid to come forward and talk to the police because of their documentation status. I can tell you a couple of times this week, we've already heard people in a domestic violence situation that are afraid to come forward.

I want to say loud and clear, trust us, trust the district attorney's office, trust the police department. We are here to help, and I know that all 34 cities and towns in Essex County feel the same way about that. I also just want to mention briefly, if I may, at the NAACP event, it really caused me to go back and take a look at the founders of NAACP, 1909, in its 116th year.

Think about the landscape in 1909 and what it took for the founders of this great civil rights organization to band together in some really tough times, and I'll bet if you took a look at some of the headlines from back then, you may actually see some of those headlines still today. Organizations like this, so many other civil rights organizations are needed. I looked at the mission and goal of the NAACP, and there were two that really struck out to me.

One was equity in education, because to me, I'm a public school kid. Education means opportunity. It's not the zip code of your birth or opportunities that you may have had.

Education unlocks that, and I salute Swampscott for doing just that, creating opportunities. Second, I think in one of the most important missions of the NAACP is to identify and help the next generation of leaders. I see a lot of young folks here.

I saw the students. I see young folks here. That's something that all of us as adults have to make sure we nurture it, and we can do it with events just like this.

Thank you for inviting me tonight. I appreciate it.

[Speaker 1] (18:22 - 44:20)
Good evening, everyone. Such a beautiful day today. I wasn't sure what to wear.

You know, as soon as the sun sets, it's over in terms of warmth, but thank you for gathering today. I'm especially happy to be sharing this space with you, having my two sons here with me. Typically, when I do a reading, they get mad at me that I didn't invite them to the reading, so tonight, they don't get to be as upset with Daddy.

I want to start first by thinking about what brought us here today, the idea of history, Black history being our history. As such, I've gathered my thoughts with a selection of poems and also some remarks under the umbrella of threads of a shared legacy. If we're going to talk about honoring Black history as our history, we have to follow this thread.

First, I want to thank the Shore Committee for putting this together. This was probably the first year where I got to see a lot more behind the scenes, and they put a lot of work into this, so I want you to give them a hand for tonight's event. I also want to thank this—there's a historic collaboration happening here for this event as well.

D.A. Jason Tucker spoke, and this was an incredible collaboration to have beyond simply a group that is committed to diversity, but to have a district attorney and to have judges as well among us, to have police chiefs, to have students, to have the many generations that we see across the stage. That beautiful band always gets me. The song, Stand By Me, I kept thinking about this is what we mean by community, but I digress.

But so many different folks that make up our community make this event possible. I also want to thank Emily Zoto for all the work, all the conversations we continue to have about what it means to engage our young people in this conversation as well, and so tonight it is about poetry, but it's about much more than that. I want to begin tonight by acknowledging that we are currently, or a group of friends, we're currently grieving the loss of a dear friend, Danielle LeGros-Georges, a dear poet who passed away and who we laid to rest this past weekend.

Danielle was not only an incredibly gifted writer, but also a generous spirit who saw poetry as a way to bring communities together. She understood that poetry doesn't just describe the world, it challenges it, shapes it, and in many ways heals it. She's a former poet laureate of Boston as well, and part of her work was to engage many different communities in in Boston with poetry.

One of the most powerful things Danielle did was the way she examined how narratives, the narratives we inherit in the language we use to define ourselves and others. In her poem, Poem for the Poorest Country, excuse me, in the western atmosphere, she confronted the ways language shapes perception and how words can diminish or elevate or erase and empower. Her poem was dedicated to my native country of Haiti, and I want to start this event tonight by reading this particular poem.

Poem for the poorest country in the western hemisphere. Oh poorest country, this is not your name. You should be called beacon, you should be called flame, almond and bougainvillea, gardenings and green mountains, villas and huts, girl with red ribbon in her hair, books underarm, charmed by the light of morning, charcoal cellar in black skirt, encircled by dead trees, you country are merchant woman, an eager clerk, grandfather at the gate, at the crossroads with a flashlight, with all in sight. I kept thinking about when she wrote this poem, Haiti was, you know, had found itself in the middle of what it currently finds itself in the middle of now, which is scrutiny and those people, they can never get it together, these poor people, and she got tired of the country being referred to that because that's not what Haiti is. Now I start to ask this question, what if someone were to say similar things about your community?

Is that who you are? Does that represent you? And I thought about the power of poetry, writing in this way, to try to right a wrong, which is we fight narratives consistently.

The world tries to define who we are, they try to tell us who we are, and we're seeing this happening at a much bigger scale. Right now, right now what we're seeing is this thread of legacy, this making America back to the way that it once was, which means at some point the threads deviate. If this was a quilt, at some point someone went this way, another went that way.

Which America and which version of America? These stories, these histories that we inherit, that we pass down, what do they look like today? And what will we say to the next generation?

And they're among us, the future is here. It's in this room. What will we say to them?

This event for me is deeply personal, not because of the themes we're exploring, but because I have lived on both sides of an invisible border. One that separates two beautiful and complex municipalities, Lennon and Swampscott. I spent over a decade in Lennon before moving here to Swampscott, and it's hard to believe that I'm almost halfway through a decade living in Swampscott.

But in that time, I became acutely aware of the ways we define community, sometimes without even realizing it. From a distance, standing by the ocean, there is a, there is no dividing line. When you look at it, you just see the horizon.

The water does not shift color between one town and the next. The same waves reach both shores, yet in our minds, we often draw borders where none exist. I think tonight is an opportunity to begin bridging those lines, to foster more dialogue between neighbors, to truly see one another.

And that is at the heart of this year's message. In light of where we find ourselves as a country, as a state, as a region, how do we, how do we redefine what we mean by community for ourselves? How do we take charge of that?

How do we make the North Shore one of the most diverse regions in Massachusetts, not just a beautiful place, not just scenic beauty, but a place of collective belonging, one that we can define for ourselves on our own terms. As Audre Lorde reminds us, if I do not define myself for myself, I will be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive. Here's one thing we can learn about ourselves from Black History.

Black History Month is not just about celebrating achievements, it's about recognizing the deep well of wisdom and resilience that Black people have carried throughout American history. There are two fundamental lessons that America can learn from the Black experience. The first one being America has always had to fight against itself to live up to its own ideals.

The idea of democracy, the promise of liberty and justice for all has always been met with resistance, and Black people in America have been at the center of that struggle constantly, having to push this country to be what it claims to be. Every step toward justice, from abolition to voting rights, from desegregation to civil rights has required an immense fight, and even after those fights were won, the backlash has been just as fierce. A second lesson we can learn.

Despite this, Black people in America have never stopped pushing forward. While we fully understand the challenges in front of us, we refuse to base our joy or our sense of freedom on those restrictions. Black communities have faced centuries of discrimination, yet we continue to create to organize, to build, to imagine a future that is not solely defined by oppression.

This is something that many fail to recognize. Black resilience is not just about surviving hardships, but about continuing to dream, to create, to love, to resist, and to build community even in the face of relentless obstacles. So here's where we need to push this conversation further.

America is obsessed with this idea of a reckoning, of some great violent moment of payback. There's a deep-seated fear that the very people who have been oppressed in this country will turn around and do to others what have been done unto them. But let's be clear.

If Black Americans were going to seek revenge, it would have happened already. The numbers were there. And yet America still operates out of fear, this fear of losing power, fear of having to confront its own past, its own fear, fear of having to share space, share wealth, share influence.

This fear is what fuels the backlash we're seeing today. A perfect example of this is the attack on DEI, diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. Many people resist DEI because they mistakenly believe that diversity is just about Black people.

And they're not shy about saying it either. That somehow equity means giving unfair advantages to people of color. But what happens when DEI is dismantled?

I'll tell you three things. Women are disproportionately affected because equity acknowledges the reality that no matter how much a woman achieves in this country, she will, on average, still make less than a man. People with disabilities lose protections because inclusion ensures that individuals are not denied opportunities simply because they require accommodations.

You are no less. DEI is about representation, ensuring that decisions about communities are made by people who actually represent those communities, to make sure there is a diversity of voices. What we're really talking about here is, if you didn't catch it, is true representative democracy.

And that's exactly what we're seeking, but also what a lot of people seem to be afraid of. So the question becomes, who is America for then, if not for me, if not for you? For generations, that answer has expanded and contracted to a point where more people are being shut out.

What we're seeing today is an attack to shrink the definition of who gets to be American. But America has always been diverse. The real fight is not about whether or not diversity exists.

It's about who gets to control it. There's a song I like to start before I start reading this poem. I'm not a singer, so please bear with me.

But you might recognize this song. You say that you love me, and just to prove you do, cry me a river, cry me a river. I have been crying.

But America says, I am a speck, as you're in dust, in a galaxy called potential. Potential to bust in that, what have you done for me lately, Milky Way. Weight of the way says, stop caring before the world does, in that you are not going to amount to anything worth remembering.

Like a rogue planet, immigrant and black, second born, brother of your father's son, a speck through the lens of ephemeral gazes and constant stares, you master constellations like mazes. Their eyes are rolling blue planets and others filled with oceans and all of the possibilities. Galaxies light years away, while at home cities become oceans and black moons become dust.

And every day something threatens to launch you into the interstellar space of your very own body. Go ahead and cry me a river, cry me a river. Accused of flunking a test as if I took it, as if I studied night and day and bombed it, I did not.

Results were waiting for me when I came bustling out of my mother's womb, her pride and joy, who she feared there on her breast would habitually test hope's resilience. I am regaining memory every day, cataloging names, dates, and places I was never supposed to travel to on my own without risking rope, branch, and a gullet full of bullets. Go ahead and cry me a river, cry me a river.

I asked myself, how much more? How many more tears? And you start to realize that it's not even about that, it's about the idea of power.

To be able to claim someone needs to do something to belong, when freedom belongs to all of us, when community is something that we curate together, not something that one person gets to decide. I keep thinking about what it means to reclaim our power and our collective voices, and it really starts with the stories that we tell ourselves, the conversations that we have with each other, and allowing each other the space to be able to do this. But then I started to think about what it means when we need to take an oath to break an oath.

We take an oath to break an oath. We have a sense of obligation to our neighbors, to our families, but someone might come along and ask you to give up that right, so now you're breaking the original oath of being a community so that you can ascend with the rest, right? What I call power adjacent, right?

You don't really have power, but if you're close enough, right? I mean, if I root for the Lakers hard enough, I'm also a world champion, right? And we get it, right?

Power is seductive. But in this context, when we're talking about immigrants as well, when we're talking about what it means to break an oath, we have to figure out what we mean by that. America was founded under these principles, but they seem to have changed.

I want to read this poem titled American Scapegoat, which is a very, which is the title of the book, of course. But I start the poem, the book with this poem, because we have to go back to the star. We have to trace that legacy.

What is that thread? What does it go back to? And can we try, trace our way back?

Can we find our way back, right? Is this a matter of getting lost in the shuffle? There's a lot of noise out there, but it started with a ruse.

A yes meant death, a no meant death of a different kind. One yes meant a death we're familiar with, another meant possibly of only dying, possibility of only dying once. Once we promised we would be willing to trill, they wanted more, wanted loyalty, wanted more than lock, stock, barrel, devotion.

They wanted ancestral cessation allegiance. By the way, that part of the poem is saying, deny who you are, all your ancestors, all your values, because we want you to take this next oath. Secession by word is not secession by heart, some say.

So we said yes, but guns were never a way for us to make a way out of no way away. As a way of making an example of us, a harsh and public afterlife awaited every single day, the right of our dignity for refusing to take an oath that breaks an oath. So here's a question for you.

Have you ever felt like you had to fight for your place in a space that should have welcomed you? I want you to think about that. Have you ever fight at some point?

Think about it. It might seem small to you. You had to fight for your place in the space that should have welcomed you.

I think tonight our conversation is really about power, about remembering that we're not just individuals floating through this moment in history, that we are a collective force shaping what comes next. We cannot allow the loudest voices in the room to be the ones that divide us. We cannot surrender our stories to the ones who wish to erase us.

And we certainly, we don't have to look to the national stage to see how division takes root because the way we govern ourselves, the way we function as a community has the power to either unite us or separate us, no matter what happens at the national level. While we may not be able to control what unfolds in a larger political stage, we do have control over what happens here within our own communities, among our own neighbors. And that means we have to know who they are.

But we also have to expand the conversation beyond what we've been told. I want to read this poem to you titled, How to Make an American Scapegoat, How to Craft an American Scapegoat, because we think things are by accident. And I think when we take a look at this, we have to take a look at the fact that a lot of things are written into law for them to be true, but so are stories.

Meaning, how do we come to the notion that we need to fear certain people and not others? And how do these stories, I don't know, they carry through generations. I hear young people repeating things like, an example someone was like, picking cotton.

I said, what do you know about that? That's not even my generation. So what does that mean?

It means that some stories are being passed down, or the euphemism of such stories, and people are saying them because they know those are words that can hurt people. And I ask, where did they come from? In a conversation recently with a friend, I said, sometimes a story is stronger than the truth.

And when we like, we like good stories. So no matter what the truth is, the story that we want to tell ourselves is much better. And, you know, we witness that in conversations and disagreements, because someone has a story playing in their head, and not even hearing what the other person is saying.

So how do we get to that point? Well, I want you to go through this poem with me. It's a brief exercise.

I'm going to describe someone to you. And then I want you to imagine who I'm talking about. Imagine what the person looks like.

And I'm going to pause at the end before I reveal who this person is. Got that? Cool.

Thank you. How to craft an American scapegoat. Make him a young boy in a project yard.

Make his pants sag like a deferred dream. Make his mama, not his real mama, his daddy, ghost. Fill his eyes and mouth with bias, so he resembles a child, not like your child, but one blood-born and raised in a dung sack nation.

Make his hands rebel against the union by putting a pistol in his hands. Christen him militant or desperado. Someone who preys on his neighbors, brothers, sisters, and friends.

As a reaper who wants the chances that you took. Make him an aftermath or compilation of fraught dead things. Make his house one created dangerously with memories and hearsay about huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

Poster him the tired poor, a colossus of ale and depredation. Make him Lazarus. Make him black.

That gap is for a reason. You can switch that. Make him what?

Immigrant? Trans? You put anyone in that category, all of a sudden they become part of a story that was already written.

And so then we have the constitution and we have bring your tired and the poor and so forth, except for you. And so many people went through that. So many people went through that gate and they suffered.

But something happens eventually, right? Assimilation and adjacent to power and all of a sudden people forget that we're aren't grouped together. But one community that has managed to remain at the center of this is the black community.

Thriving. In the history of this country, one, um, one black president and the whole country lost its mind. And I was talking to a friend about this, this conversation I was about to have with you tonight.

And I said to her, I said, I said, I don't think I've told many people, but I exhaled the day that Obama left office. And I didn't realize I had been holding my breath for eight years because I thought someone was going to assassinate him. They made it clear, they made it so.

And yet he conducted himself as if he was the president of this country, which he is, because the foundation of this country was also built with his people. And so then all of a sudden we say, well, I said, there's going to be a price though to pay for this and we're going to see it. And now what we're seeing is not simply talks of reform in government, we're seeing American democracy on the brink of falling.

And I know this because I grew up in a dictatorship. I know what the language sounds like, the power of language, but also the language of power. I also know what it looks like.

And I also know that a person can declare himself president for life and then he becomes that. In this case, he may not be one person, but all you need is the momentum to carry through and then everybody will follow suit. So I always say I'm not worried about one person, I'm worried about the ideas and the stories that are being told.

And I think we have the ability to tell our own story. I love, love, I love walking around in Swampscar. I love living here.

And I know we have an opportunity to continue these conversations. There's definitely a lot more poetry that I can read, but we do have some members of the community that we want to bring up. We have a great set of, they're your people, let's just put it that way, right?

Representing multiple generations and so forth. Do you have anything to say?

[Speaker 6] (44:23 - 45:09)
Okay, so we're going to have our panel come up now for the conversation with Enzo. We have Chief Ruben Quesada, the police chief and member of SHORE. James Runner, who is with the Essex County DA.

Rachel Shirayeva, who is on our SHORE executive board. We have two more students, Nakaylan Davis and Olivia Bufard. Did I say your name?

Sorry. Two students.

[Speaker 1] (45:20 - 46:09)
And I'll seem like my transition to the panel was abrupt. I like interruptions. As much as I love to be up here, I like to foster even more of these conversations.

And so I do have closing remarks, you stick around for that. But I wanted to not end my remarks and then say, okay, now let's talk to the community. This is part of the conversation.

The conversation has to be a continuum. And I gave him some pretty tough questions to navigate through. So I'm not standing behind a podium here.

First question, in terms of community, what does it mean to truly feel a sense of belonging in a community?

[Speaker 3] (46:15 - 47:29)
Good evening. My name is Ruben Quesada. So to me, to feel a sense of belonging, and I can truly say this as not having grown up in Swampscot, having grown up in the Southwest in Phoenix, Arizona, to feel a sense of belonging in the community is to be heard, is to be a part of engaging in conversations like this.

Just because I haven't lived here, just because I haven't been a part of the fabric of the town in the past, I am now a part of the fabric of the town. And my voice counts as much as yours. And that's why we're here today for Black History Month, because all of our voices counts.

There's not one single ethnicity, religion, gender that counts. We all count. And so I think just having conversations like these, it warms my heart knowing that people care.

We all care. We're here for a reason. So that's, for me, that's part of being part of the community.

Thank you.

[Speaker 1] (47:33 - 47:43)
Yes, please. And I'll repeat if you want me to. Yeah, sure.

What does it mean to truly feel a sense of belonging in a community?

[Speaker 4] (47:45 - 48:35)
The question itself is, as the kids say, is very valid. You know, like what do you have to do to be a part of a community? I think being understood, respecting what is occurring inside of a community, but also not being afraid to get involved.

I think that opportunity, when you involve yourself with things, opportunity opens up opportunity for us to meet people, also to generate your own ideas, also to create your own ideas, and give an opportunity for others to be involved also too. So I think bringing something to the community, as well as accepting what the community gives you, is very important. But you also can't be afraid to open up your own ideas as well, because some of the people in the community may want to be involved in what you want to do also too.

So I think that's important. I'll pass the mic.

[Speaker 7] (48:38 - 49:31)
Well, the first two answers were so good, it's sort of hard to add to that, but I was thinking of the question in really simple terms, just like a community as in the neighborhood that you live in. So I was thinking, well, in a way it's hard in this country to have a sense of community because people don't walk around. You know, people just drive everywhere.

But I think, you know, if we're outside walking around more, well, we have the opportunity to talk to each other. And I just thought of one of my mailmen that he comes and whenever he's around the neighborhood, he says hi to everyone. And he says, how are you?

And he's got such a bright manner. And it's so surprising because usually nowadays when you walk past people, they don't talk to you. But it's really also contagious, I think.

So I was inspired by that. And I thought, you know what? Yeah, that would be a good thing to do.

Just talk to people that you run into.

[Speaker 8] (49:32 - 49:40)
So, oh, you have a mic. Okay. I just kind of need a refresher on the question.

[Speaker 1] (49:40 - 49:48)
Yeah. And this is great because we get to hear from the young voices as well. What does it mean to truly feel a sense of belonging in a community?

[Speaker 8] (49:50 - 50:38)
So personally, me, as a person that started coming here in second grade, I didn't really feel like it would be the best place for me. I felt like I was an outcast, kind of. But just the feeling of actually being wanted and loved and actually wanting to...

Yeah, I guess it's just like, in a way, I just feel like just interacting and stuff like that with many people and doing a lot of different activities and events and clubs in here. It's really a nice way of getting everyone together and a nice way of feeling comfort.

[Speaker 9] (50:43 - 51:03)
I think feeling a sense of belonging is feeling accepted, valued, loved, and connected within a group. Also feeling understood and supported. And in Swellenscott, I felt a lot of that.

I started going to school in Salem, and then when I came here, I felt like it was more connected, and then I made more friends.

[Speaker 14] (51:08 - 51:09)
Thank you.

[Speaker 1] (51:14 - 52:05)
So when we talk about community, we're talking about participation, and we're talking about inclusion. But when you use that word, I think sometimes we're not sure how to completely get there. What do you mean by inclusion?

How do we do it? And I think when we focus on the how to do it versus speaking to people who don't necessarily feel included, or they might feel included, but it's limited, right? When you're transitioning from one community to the next, as some of the students do.

But also when you're the chief, but you're also a person, right? And so we're transitioning from our professions as well within a community. And so I want to know what would it look like for you to live in a community where you felt like you were included?

[Speaker 3] (52:09 - 55:08)
You know, I was going to answer the opposite of that. What does it look like in a community where I feel excluded? Because that's what comes to mind.

And I was thinking about the question beforehand and thought, what has it felt like to feel excluded from the community? And I was thinking and trying long and hard about it. And then we had a snowstorm a couple times within the past couple months.

I don't know what this white powdery substance is. I'm from Phoenix. And so I knew I had to go to get some salt for the snow.

And so I go to a local hardware store. And I, you know, of course it's the night of and I'm like, they're not going to have any salt. So, but I still go there.

I'm just, I got to try. And I remember going up to the gentleman, you know, I'm dressed, I'm not dressed like this. I'm just dressed in old t-shirt and jeans.

And I said, excuse me, sir, can you tell me if you have any salt? And they just gave me a look, like a smirk, like, no. And okay, thank you.

I knew like, okay, wow, that was rude. I go to, I remember I texted my wife and said, geez, Ocean State lot is rude. You know, I was kind of mad about that.

And so I went to another store, Home Depot. And I saw somebody, I guess, again, I'm not dressed like this. You know, we're dressed like this.

You say you're the DA. You say you're a judge. You're going to be treated normally pretty well.

So I go to the local Home Depot and I see a cashier who's not, she's just looking at her, you know, she's counting her till. And I go up to her, I'm like, ma'am, excuse me, I know you're probably busy, but I'm just looking for the stuff that's salt for snow. And she looked at me, she's like, we have sand over there, with nodding her head.

And I thought, geez, what is going on today? What the heck is wrong with people? And I texted my wife and immediately what came to mind was, are they just rude?

Are they treating me because they think I'm nobody? I'm not a police chief. I'm just this Hispanic guy, some minority walking up to ask for salt.

And it hurts knowing that I have to think that way. And so that's where I feel like, that's where I felt excluded. That might not be the case.

They may be having a bad day, but my immediate thought went to that.

[Speaker 4] (55:14 - 55:18)
Any situation we can talk of, right? Any. Okay.

[Speaker 1] (55:18 - 55:20)
We're in a safe space, right?

[Speaker 4] (55:20 - 57:22)
I want to kind of go off of what she was talking about in regards to being involved in a situation where you felt you should have been included, but you were not. I am a very massive man, and I do not look like a dancer. However, I've been teaching dance for over 26 years, and you would never know that.

My first encounter when I went to school, I went to Dean College, and I took one of the classes there. And when I walked in, the professor immediately said, you don't belong here. What do you mean I don't belong here?

It's on my schedule. It says your name. And as I walked in the room, we had young ladies getting stretched out, and people over there getting stretched out.

I was the only male inside of the classroom, and she thought I didn't belong there. The class was ballet. So when I was inside of there, and I explained to her that this is a part of my curriculum, and I have to take this class, not only did she make me work 10 times harder than the females inside of the classroom, she pushed me to a limit that I have never been in my entire life.

Moral of the story is, you never judge a book by its cover, you know? When I walked into that room, she assumed I was there for football practice, which I did play football for Dean College, but that was a part of the curriculum that I had to take. I couldn't, I missed the class, or I wouldn't pass.

Let's just say I passed, I got Dean's List from the class, did a very good job, but she appreciated that I didn't allow her to put me down. And I stayed there, and no matter how hard she pushed, I continued to come, put a smile on my face, and be excited to learn from a teacher who's been teaching for so long. And at the time it occurred, I was a young 18-year-old kid, didn't know, you know, what I should or should not do.

But now as an adult, I do look back and I say, she probably shouldn't have even said a word. She should have just let me go in the class. And then she could have said, do you belong here, after I got done, because she would have saw how I danced, and she would have completely thought the opposite of what she was trying to say to me.

[Speaker 1] (57:24 - 57:49)
Well, I kind of wish we had known this before tonight, because that would have been an extra part of this year's celebration. So can we do that for next year? Is that possible?

It'll open and close. Yeah, so really talk about inclusivity, right? Like, so what does it mean for you to feel included?

What does that look like?

[Speaker 7] (58:01 - 58:03)
You know, I can be thankful for that, I guess.

[Speaker 4] (58:04 - 58:07)
But, um, you know, maybe it's an experience that you were included.

[Speaker 1] (58:09 - 59:08)
Well, and I'll say, this question is the toughest, because usually the people, the stories, right? Oh, yeah, I got this story. And then like, oh, I never had anything that stood out.

But it's a question that's asking you to meditate on it, right? Because if we sit long enough with it, you talked about, you wish people would say something when you're walking around. We had this conversation about the beach, right?

How I can walk along the beach, and it'll be a while before someone says something. And when someone does say something, you jump up like, oh, what, you're talking to me? So I think inclusivity works in many different ways.

But the challenge is we don't get those questions every day. No one walks up to you and say, hey, what would it look like to make you feel included? It's like, who's this crazy guy?

He's the poet guy, right? Asking all these crazy questions. But it is a question for all of us, right?

So we may not, I don't want you to feel pressure to answer now, but it can sit with you for a bit, too.

[Speaker 7] (59:09 - 1:00:17)
All right, thanks. Yeah, I mean, one thing that does occur to me, it's kind of maybe a strange thing to say, but you can, you can feel included or excluded in the books that you read, too. Because, you know, in the past five years or so, I've been really, was really, led me to get into the shared diversity group, actually.

I started reading a lot of nonfiction by black authors, which I hadn't done before that time. And so I noticed that with some authors, I felt like the tone was very welcoming, whereas with others, not so much. So even that can be a community, like the books that you read, they welcome you in or they don't.

So like some of the authors that I felt really a warmth from, and I felt welcomed, you know, as a white person reading about the black experience, would be, you know, works of Bryan Stevenson, like his Just Mercy book, Michelle Alexander's The New Jim Crow. So, you know, you're exposed to a lot of things that are hard to read about. But the author is so amazingly kind of warm and gracious, you know, and so that's what I could say, maybe.

[Speaker 8] (1:00:20 - 1:01:56)
So for a time, I would say, I felt very comforting, I guess, was that the question, right? So, yeah, my first time ever staying out here in Swampscott, I was forced into doing band by my mom, I mean, not band, chorus by my mom. And it was pretty rough.

I was very scared, didn't really know who to interact with, who to hang out with, or anything that sort of thing. But I had a friend named Tyler in second grade, who was my first friend out here. And they brought up about, the MECO program brought about a host family to me and my family.

And I just wasn't really sure about it. I didn't think that people would really like let me have that chance to go to their house and get to eat and do all the things that they do with their family. But their family was willing to let me stay over and have dinner with them.

And it was just a nice feeling. I felt very comforting. After that, it made me feel a lot less stressed.

And I didn't really think about it too much. And I felt way comfortable staying in Swampscott after that. And after that day, it just, it was just a very great feeling.

[Speaker 1] (1:01:57 - 1:02:06)
And yeah, making room for your gift allowed you to feel more included. So you sing?

[Speaker 14] (1:02:07 - 1:02:08)
No, that was just like a thing.

[Speaker 1] (1:02:09 - 1:02:13)
You can tell I'm already putting together next year's line.

[Speaker 9] (1:02:18 - 1:03:09)
For inclusivity, I feel like I've had a few experiences where it's felt really good to be included. I play club lacrosse. So I'm at a lot of different places a lot of times with a bunch of different people.

And a lot of the times you don't know a lot of the people that are going to be there. You don't know who's going to be with you in a group or anything. And most of the people there are really nice already.

But you just get really nervous before that. And then there was this one time there was this girl sitting alone. And I know how it feels like at that thing to be alone.

Because a lot of my friends didn't go to them back when I did. And I saw her and I was like, well, I feel like she should be included. So I invited her to pass with me and my friends.

And we still talk now. This is like two years ago. So I think it was like a great friendship.

And we became very close.

[Speaker 1] (1:03:18 - 1:05:11)
So this question, I want to start with the youngins. Right? Because we talk about what it means to feel included.

And I think what you're seeing with this panel, we get to see not just like all the demographics, but also the young folks. At some point, practicing inclusivity looks very different. Now I walk my dog and it's a very different group.

And I said, where these people come from? I was walking Swampscott for four and a half years. And all of a sudden I get a dog.

And I know all the dog owners, all the backstories, and all of that. Right? And I said, there's this community within the community.

But it also depends on what you're doing, what activity that you're doing. But also how you identify. Right?

I mean, I didn't come out and say I'm a dog person so that all the dog people can come and find me. But there's also multiple identities that we have for ourselves. How we see ourselves.

I asked if you still sing. Because it's like, oh, I'm a singer. Right?

Some folks will say, I'm a singer. And they identify with that. But I try to think about what it means to be part of a larger community.

And how do we move beyond this discomfort to create space where people can feel like they can speak their truth? Whatever that truth is that's connected to your identity. Meaning this is my story.

How do you think we can do that as a community to cultivate more spaces other than tonight? Because what we're talking about here is the beginning of something. We want to be able to extend that to the community.

How do we carry this forward? And we can ask, you know, the powers that be, whoever they are. Right?

But they is us, in a sense. Right? So I want to start with the young people, the voices of the future.

How can we make it more comfortable to have such conversations in these spaces? What would that look like for you?

[Speaker 9] (1:05:11 - 1:05:39)
I think that moving beyond discomfort can be hard. But to create a space where everybody feels comfortable, you need proper education about the subjects. Establishing appropriate dialogue also can ensure that everybody will feel included and not feel like they have to say something or they can't say something.

And everybody can be heard and understood.

[Speaker 8] (1:05:46 - 1:05:51)
I don't even, I'm really kind of lost for words.

[Speaker 1] (1:05:57 - 1:06:27)
These are questions that no one walks up to you and say, so what would it look like if you were building this community? Right? To make it safe for you to be yourself.

No one really asked those questions, but I think that's the fabric of a community when we ask each other that. Right? So with these questions, when I came up with them, I wasn't necessarily expecting long answers, but a lot of, hmm, I need to think about that some more.

Because your voice matters. Right? Your voice matters in that.

[Speaker 8] (1:06:29 - 1:06:49)
I definitely do got to think about that a little bit more. That is definitely a question that I have never really ever been asked before. So it is pretty interesting to be asked that, but, yeah, I'm going to have to come back to that.

[Speaker 14] (1:06:49 - 1:06:49)
That's okay.

[Speaker 7] (1:06:56 - 1:08:11)
I guess I would say that, I don't want this to sound negative, but I think that sometimes, you know, it's possible that something that you say is going to offend someone, but that's what having real conversations, you know, when you're having a real conversation, that can happen. So when I thought of this question, I was kind of inspired by Ibram Kendi, who we know just left BU to go teach at Howard. He, you know, founded the Anti-Racist Center, which has closed.

But anyway, he said something that inspired me so much, because he said, we have to be, we have to be able to be vulnerable and to be able to say things sometimes that are a little bit wrong, because that's how we learn and grow. So it's okay sometimes, you might offend someone sometimes, but hopefully at the end of the discussion, everybody will sort of agree to maybe like a handshake or just, you know, sort of appreciate each other that you're involved in the conversation and just show that you didn't have bad intentions. But I'm just saying that sometimes it will happen.

Someone's feelings might get hurt, because that's what happens when you have a profound conversation.

[Speaker 1] (1:08:14 - 1:08:29)
Yeah, and in writing American Scapegoat, I said you have to risk offense. But then you have to trust that if you're part of a community, that the community will receive you in that way, or sit with it, or ask you more questions about that, right? So good, yes, thank you.

[Speaker 4] (1:08:31 - 1:09:44)
I think mine's response is kind of simple. I think you have to be transparent. I think you have to be open-minded.

As much as you want someone to accept you within the community, you have to be willing to accept the community values and desires also, too. Just the other day at my rehearsal with my kids, we were having a serious conversation about when people leave and when they come up to each other, that they should always say hello, look them in the eye, and say hello, or say goodbye, and say and look them in the eye. And one of my kids was like, well, I gave him DAP, and I was like, DAP?

I'm like, do you even know what the word DAP means? And I'm asking some people, because DAP came from the 1960s. It didn't just happen recurrently.

It's desire among people, you know? And a lot of people don't realize that when you do a handshake with somebody, that's something that was created to show respect to people. So I think if you're going to be inclusive, and you want to be accepting, and you want to be appreciated by the community, transparent and open-mindedness.

I think that's important, because you're willing to, you want people to, you want people to accept who you are, but you also need to be willing to accept what the community is bringing also to. And that's the way you can make a true collaboration, I think, personally.

[Speaker 3] (1:09:48 - 1:10:30)
I'm going to ride a scotails on that answer. So I think it starts with respect. My truths are not your truths.

My perspective is not necessarily your perspective. I have to be able to question my own truths to understand yours. And so it's just like, I was just thinking about that.

It's just like sitting in this auditorium. Your view changes once your seat changes. So in your perspective.

And so I think just keeping that in mind and remembering my truth does not mean more than yours. And it's my job to get to recognize that mine is not always correct.

[Speaker 1] (1:10:32 - 1:11:01)
Thank you. Thank you. I have one more question, and we'll wrap things up.

Since we have multi-generations on this panel, and also in the audience as well, what is one thing you would like, well let me phrase it in the way I wrote it, so I'll make sure I read it right. What's something you wish older or younger generations understood about your experience? Or what it's like to be you?

[Speaker 8] (1:11:05 - 1:12:22)
Okay, I'll start off. One thing I just, I mean for both ways, it goes both ways. We both don't know each other's perspectives very well.

So it's not like something that you could just easily just pick up on, especially with how many different things change in just a span of five years. So I just feel like sometimes just like some kids are just not very understanding about how our parents have experienced their lives. And parents think sometimes that since they're at where they're at right now, that like, that their kid has to follow that exact path, which isn't always true because you know, everyone has their own path in some way.

So I think it's more of just like an understanding kind of, or just trying to get more of an understanding and communicating with each other better. Because it isn't easy, trust me, because there's so many different things that go on in this generation that you can't even like keep up with it. I can't even keep up with it, and I live in the generation.

So it's just like, I don't know, it's all just perspectives I guess, in a way.

[Speaker 9] (1:12:27 - 1:12:57)
I like when the Keelan said about perspectives and everything. I think that the older generations could also learn that with technology and everything, there's so much changing already and younger people are so in social media and everything. And it changes our perspectives and your perspectives are different too.

And everyone just needs to learn and accept everything and be open to learning new things about each generation.

[Speaker 3] (1:13:00 - 1:13:02)
Enzo, can you repeat the question for me? I want to make sure.

[Speaker 1] (1:13:03 - 1:13:09)
Oh yes. What is one thing that you wish older or younger generations understood about your experience?

[Speaker 3] (1:13:10 - 1:15:02)
I think it's not, I do think it's about perspective. It made me think of a story. It's not that the younger generation must understand me now, the old generation, but I think of perspective.

And so it reminded me of my first interaction with police. I was 15 years old. I'm in a movie theater.

Can't believe my mom and dad let me go. And then there was a big fight in Phoenix and there was about 20 or 30 people in the lobby area, me waiting to go with a friend into the lobby. And I see a bunch of police officers show up and they say, those guys, those Mexicans.

And I'm like, well, I'm 15 years old. I've never had an interaction with police. And I was patted down, turned around, I was frisked, turned around and not really explained what happened.

And do you guys have a knife? No, absolutely no. So that was my first interaction with police.

Looking back on it, yes, it's sharing those perspectives with our young generation, just understanding that, yes, as an ethnic minority, person of color kid, I thought, what the heck was that? That was messed up. As a police officer, I understand it.

And that's understanding the perspective of if there was a knife or if there was some kind of threat to public safety in the theater, they have a job to do. They didn't do it maybe correctly, which shaped my perspective. And I think it's sharing those conversations with, hey, this happened to me, but I understand why and understanding both sides.

Thank you.

[Speaker 4] (1:15:09 - 1:17:26)
I just said to the chief, that's a really tough question. I will, I'm going to talk from the perspective of a parent. You know, when I was growing up, I was raised by my grandmother and my grandfather.

They are from Mansfield, South Carolina, like deep roots of the South, where you work for what you earn, you get what you get. And if you don't earn it, then it does not belong to you. My daughter is living now in this modern world where everything she wants is at the snap of her fingertips, you know, and everything that she wants to get, if she wants it, that I want, can I get?

And I understand that that's the reality that we're living in now, but comparing it to what I was raised up in and to what I'm bringing my daughter up in now, I would probably say the same thing as the chief said, you know, perspective. It's important that my daughter understands, yes, you get everything that you want, but I had to earn it before I could give it to you. And I have no problem making my daughter understand that earning something is very important, because not only can you be proud of what you've earned, but you can also kind of show that off a little bit because you had the right to earn that.

And I don't take away from the values of social media right now. If something happens in California, 30 seconds, it's in Massachusetts, like that. We have to respect the fact that social media technology has done a lot for us in our world right now today, but it also has caused a lot of harm, you know, with bullying, with people, I call it thumb thugging, when you can take everything you want to say and be a thug with the thumb, but you can't say it in anyone's face, you know.

So the perspective that we imply on our children or anyone that's in our lives, they can gain a lot from it, but they only gain what they think they need. The only way they really truly going to learn is from going through it. And I think if you really think about it, experience is the best way to learn, you know.

If you go through something, then that means you've learned something. And I tell my kids that all the time. You got to go through something to learn something, you know, but don't be afraid to accept the change, as well as embrace the opportunity.

That's where I'm at with that. The thumb thugging?

[Speaker 7] (1:17:27 - 1:17:29)
Sorry, I just have to remind myself of the question.

[Speaker 1] (1:17:33 - 1:17:39)
What is something you wish younger or older generations understood about your experience?

[Speaker 7] (1:17:40 - 1:18:49)
Well, I guess now that I'm almost 50, I'm sort of going to consider myself of the older generation. So I just want to say a couple of things. And one is that I'm not sure if this really answers the question very well, but I just want to say that younger generations probably don't understand how much older generations, we see them as very precious.

Okay, now comes the preachy part. Here's the preachy part. However, so I think that younger people should not look down on older people for having poor computer skills.

And I just want to remind the young people that computer is just a machine. It's a tool. And we shouldn't be too fascinated with it.

And we should get back to nature, we should go dance, we should live our lives. Okay, that's that's all I want to say.

[Speaker 1] (1:18:54 - 1:20:25)
Well, I love how this is now a much bigger conversation than when it started. But there's something you said about, you know, like this communication that needs to exist between, right? I think you started was like, I wish people would, that's what the question, I wish they would know.

And then the question I often ask, this is not what I want you to answer now is, how would they know? Right? How do we know anything about each other?

Unless we ask. And you may feel like you're part of the older generation. But there are some folks here who are like, let me tell you something about what I've been through, right?

And so we still have this wealth of knowledge, wealth of experiences. And this is part of your community. This is reflected.

So it wasn't easy to be up here. So please give them a hand. Thank you so much.

Like the community has spoken. All right, we're gonna bring up Brother Ralph up here. Speaking of generational wealth.

[Speaker 2] (1:20:41 - 1:28:54)
Enzo, thank you. Thank you so much for a great evening. Good evening, everyone.

I'm Ralph Edwards. I'm a member of the of Shore Diversity. And I'm here to share with you how this evening is just the beginning.

That we planned this where you would hear the music of our high school band. You would see the dancing of that amazing step squad and be introduced to stepping. It's an an African form of dance.

And then from this point, hear our Swampscot poet, Enzo Surin, and hear his reflections. And then hear from our fellow citizens some of the ways in which they respond to his inquiries and his poetry. Actually, I have to say, through the inspiration of the DA, of DA Tucker, our next step is to move from just our community and find ways to engage Lynn.

And we have three events planned for April where students from Swampscot will have an opportunity to interact with students from Lynn in responding to Enzo's poetry in American Scapegoat. And then there will be another event where adults from Lynn and adults from Swampscot will have a chance to read the poetry, reflect on it, and then engage in these in this kind of conversation. Although this is Black History Month, the diversity in our community, as Enzo had said earlier, is much greater.

And it's not only gender and ethnicity and age, but many other ways in which each of us carry something unique about ourselves. And then at the same time, there's a great deal of commonality with others. You may know that with Shore Diversity, we've had a project called Tell Us Your Story, where people share their family origin story.

And so many of us hear our family story and, you know, one, we may not think it's important, which is unfortunate because it turns out that it is. And two, we may think, well, you know, that's just our story. Other folks' stories on how they came to America is very different.

And there are the differences and there are the commonalities. And then what would bind us as proud citizens of this country is both the commonalities and the differences in those experiences. And we become, although it's been very challenged, the melting pot that we are.

So I wanted to tell you of the events in April. One of them, the title is Reclaiming Our Voices, Poetry, Identity, and the Power of Community. And in this special program, participants from Linn and Swampscott will engage in meaningful conversations about identity, belonging, and the community through the lens of poetry and storytelling.

And this is inspired by Enzo's Book of Poetry, American Scapegoat. The discussion and writing workshop will provide participants with a deeper understanding of their personal stories and their roles within their communities. And then through guided discussions and creative writing, participants will explore how poetry can challenge dominant narratives, reclaim agency, and cultivate a stronger sense of community, both on the page in writing and also in the world.

And the two events that I mentioned, one will be on April 12th, and that will be where adults from the two communities will come together. And on April 16th, the youth will come together. And on April 26th, both the youth and adults will come together.

And the theme for that event is The Ocean Has No Border, Celebrating Community Through Poetry and Stories. And I thought that that was an important title for that event because the border that we will be crossing on that day is that border between Linn and Swampscott. You know, borders are an imaginary line, and yet they're very real.

And the amount of interaction between the two communities will be enhanced by bringing the youth and the adults together. And this is an accumulate, a culmination of American scapegoat book discussions. Enzo will deliver reflective remarks on how storytelling and poetry serve as vital tools for fostering empathy, deepening understanding, and bringing people together in a meaningful way.

We will, if you go to the website of the Linn Museum, you will get more information about these events. And you'll also find how either you individually or your club or church group or organization can participate in this border crossing, so to speak. And copies for the participants in these conversations, copies of American Scapegoat will be made available so that the conversations can be predicated on folks reading and appreciating the poetry and using that then to have our own conversations about the meaning of and our own interpretations of the poetry.

So we're so appreciative of you coming here tonight, but this is not the celebration. The celebration needs to be ongoing, and it also needs for us to become engaged with other folks appreciating our own uniqueness, their uniqueness, and our commonalities. So do go to the website, get the information, and join us in an expanded conversation.

Thank you.

[Speaker 1] (1:29:15 - 1:31:01)
We talked about technology with the panel. I wrote a poem during the pandemic once I saw what was happening with George Floyd. And I said, we have cameras now to capture these things in real life, except this wasn't snapshots, this wasn't pictures, it was video, which means it was being streamed, which means, and you could hear people talk about it.

And I said, here we are televising something. It kind of reminds me of what used to happen in America with lynchings, where someone could publicly die, and you watched them getting killed, and people would actually pose next to these bodies, right? And the question that I had, and I'm not reading the entire poem, and this is to end my talk here, to send us off, and I said, is this love?

Everybody knows love when they see it. And I think when we try to figure out how to be better to each other, we may not know the right words to say, but we know how to be kind. We may not know what someone is going through, but we know how to love.

And that's the message I want to send you out back into the community with tonight, is I want you to go in love, and I want you to go with kindness in your heart, so that the next time we see each other, we're not strangers. And sometimes it's a lot easier to figure out who the agitators are, because they don't come in the name of love or in the name of kindness. And so I hope that sits in your heart tonight, and I thank you so much for making space for me and poetry, which is not easy to digest sometimes.

And yes, and I'll pass it on to Sue to wrap things up. Thank you so much.

[Speaker 11] (1:31:01 - 1:31:54)
Thank you, Enzo. This is real quick. Just thank you so much for coming, but thank you to the students and teachers who did door decorations, and they did these, you know, some of the boards, and so I hope you visited the different tables.

But this has just been a challenging and inspiring and a look inside myself. So I hope you enjoyed the evening. Thank you so much, the band, the step team, and most of all Enzo and the panelists, because I don't know, it wouldn't have been easy for me to be up there, so I really appreciate them saying, agreeing to be vulnerable.

So thank you so much. I hope you'll be part of the conversations. The Lynn Museum website has a way to sign up, and I know you'll be changed for the better.

Thank you.