She’s one of so many women here in Vermont doing important work for her own community and far beyond—it is through such individual profiles we strove to educate and motivate our readers about issues and perhaps inspire action on their part, as well.

One of the most memorable videos shot was by Susan Hammond whose audible gasp went viral when her community’s beloved Bartonsville covered bridge was washed away by the storm’s fury. Hammond was previously featured in the pages of Vermont Woman for her work founding the War Legacies Project, helping families in Southeast Asia in the wake of war and coping with the impact of Agent Orange. She’s one of so many women here in Vermont doing important work for her own community and far beyond—it is through such individual profiles we strove to educate and motivate our readers about issues and perhaps inspire action on their part, as well.

Fast-forward to 2019, at this writing the full impact of Dorian is yet to be endured by our neighbors to the south. Suffice it to say, it won’t be good.

It is with immense sadness that I’m contributing to this farewell issue of Vermont Woman, painfully exacerbated by the fact that it comes during the unnatural disaster that has befallen this country. We had, during the first iteration of Vermont Woman, the joy of welcoming the first woman to serve as this state’s governor: the esteemed Madeleine M. Kunin. Instead of being able to ever rejoice in the election of the first Madame President of the United States, this publication will fold its pages during a time that the nation accepted into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue an unapologetic grabber of the pussy. How have we regressed so?

Vermont Woman spanned 34 years, of which I was on staff for 10. In 1988, I had dropped out of UVM when a mutual acquaintance introduced me to then Vermont Woman editor Michele Patenaude. Michele invited me to cover a local event, and my short write-up and a photo of my dear mentor Professor Martha Fitzgerald was published in March—Women’s History Month. A month or so later, the administrative assistant position became open, and this wide-eyed kid from Rockingham became a “Vermont Woman,” striving to fill the shoes of my predecessor, Jennifer Wallace-Brodeur.

In addition to my front-desk responsibilities in that pre-e-mail/Internet era (including, but not limited to, processing typed or more often handwritten personal ads and responses and doing the monthly bulk-mailing of Vermont Woman to its subscribers around the state and beyond; I bet I can still tell you most VT town’s zip codes!), Michele nurtured me as a writer and photographer. For the most part, this entailed taking pix at low-key events, with short news briefs, and then a couple feature articles. I was in my element, working side-by-side with smart, fascinating women, producing a meaningful publication for women, with no articles on makeup or how to gain the affection of men: the focus was on my gender, our sisters.

But soon, sober realities necessarily widened my admittedly privileged and protected worldview. Covering Take Back the Night marches, I witnessed individuals at UVM fraternities yelling out taunts and laughing together rather than joining in. Did they not have mothers, sisters, girlfriends? This was the time of the Connecticut River Valley murders of women. And then December 6, 1989, the Montreal Massacre in which 14 women engineering students were brutally murdered. We sat in the VW office stunned and horrifed by the news just 90 minutes north—bear in mind this predates the current near-daily occurrence of mass shootings.

And it was also the era of a determined antiabortion crusade by Randall Terry and his ilk, Operation Rescue, that targeted Burlington’s Vermont Women’s Health Center (VWHC) and the Planned Parenthood clinic. On the occasion that these activists invaded VWHC and padlocked themselves in place (with some patients and staff fearfully trapped upstairs), I somehow ended up in the midst of the burly Burlington Police officers busting through the door—but kept on snapping photos with my trusty little Pentax.

That surreal and dismaying episode was counterbalanced by the inspirational experience of attending my first March on Washington, the 1989 pro-choice march of 600,000-plus participants, which included many, many Vermonters.

Fast-forward to 2003. After Vermont Woman version one went on pause in 1990, I next worked with Sue Gillis at two other newly launched community newspapers and then finally returned to finish my degree. I was on the verge of pursuing a PhD in art history when, in 2003, Sue contacted me about her intention to revive Vermont Woman. I said, yes, sure, I’ll help you get it back up and running—and ultimately found myself in the role of editor from 2004 to 2011. It could be said I still earned my doctorate, but in much more than the history of art!

Once again, I admittedly stepped into the role with a massive amount of privileged naiveté. While I am, and will always be, an unabashed and undeterred feminist, I didn’t perceive the mission of this new Vermont Woman to serve the same needs as her predecessor. Perhaps my years in grad school looking to a new future gave me the false impression that the “old” issues were solved. Not to perfection, but at least progressing, especially in Vermont.

What motivated me was one of US Senator Bernie Sanders’ recent townhall sessions regarding “the corporatization of the media.” We were in the midst of the Bush-Cheney era and had invaded Iraq under false pretenses, and the national media was to my mind complicit. It was the importance of independent news publications that was driving me when I enlisted with Vermont Woman. I felt that anywhere a community and constituency could have a grassroots-level forum to exchange news, ideas, opinions, inspiration, exhortation was crucial to cultivate.

In addition to my concerns about the Bush administration’s military objectives, I believed the major issue that needed addressing related to the environment and this planet’s bleak future suffering climate change. No, Vermont Woman wasn’t going to fix these and every other problem, but it was going to be at least one more outlet for concerned voices to make a difference.

Through the years it aggravated me when people (all too often including women) would deride and question our use of the phrase “from the perspective of women.” That was the Vermont Woman tagline; it was the niche we carved in—yes—the marketplace. No one questioned the validity of South Burlington or Barton to have their own community paper; Burlington youths had zines; sports enthusiasts and health fanatics naturally pick up pubs targeting them; no one would (I hope) admonish Bosnian or Somalian refugees for creating a publication speaking to their experience in a new home.

In the view of some, however, women aren’t entitled to speak and have opinions of their own, it would seem.

This was a publication that addressed issues such as homelessness, childhood hunger, incarceration, environmental crises, economics, health, violence—from the standpoint of women. No, it’s not to say we as a group are in lockstep and all of the same mind—definitely not! But at least the decision makers of this paper’s content were not a boardroom full of suits and ties.

Some standout memories from this Vermont woman’s perspective:

Attending the 2004 March for Women’s Lives in Washington, DC (though, as the sign says: “I can’t believe we still have to protest this shit”).

Our staff fieldtrip to Seneca Falls, New York—an important experience I recommend for all.

Unexpectedly giving a ride to the late great Molly Ivins and profusely apologizing for my trash-bucket on wheels, to which she graciously replied in her Texas drawl: “That’s alright, darlin’, it looks just like mine.”

Getting a late-night “pocket-dial” from Laurie Anderson, with whom I’d done a phone interview earlier that day.

The honor of meeting and photographing individuals ranging from Gloria Steinem, former governor Madeleine Kunin, the future US Senator Tammy Duckworth; having dinner with former Texas Governor Ann Richards and drinks with the dean of the White House Press Corps Helen Thomas. I was so graciously welcomed into the home of Grace Paley to photograph her in what ultimately were her final months of life.

Fascinating exchanges interviewing performers Angelique Kidjo, k.d. lang, Ani DiFranco, Marian McPartland; and photographing Anaïs Mitchell in the midst of presenting a work-in-progress entitled Hadestown.

The sobering process of laying out memorial pages to Vermont women who were killed in combat in Afghanistan or Iraq; the heart-wrenching talk with the mother of Laura Winterbottom who was viciously murdered in 2005.

Though I’ve referenced above a number of famous women from the national stage, what made my tenure as editor the richest was the opportunity to travel this great state and meet so many remarkable women throughout. It’s my hope that readers found inspiration from the accomplishments of Vermont women and girls and/or were stirred to action after reading of the challenges endured by others.

What we accomplished is largely due to the talented contributing writers; in particular I thank Assistant Editor Mary Fratini.

Of the articles I wrote, I have two favorites. One was in 2007 about the work done with the Black Panthers by Roz Payne who this summer passed away (https://www.vermontwoman.com/articles/2007/0807/roz_payne.html). In 2006 I had the honor of meeting Dedé Mirabal the only surviving sister of the four women whose tragic story is told in Julia Alvarez’s book In the Time of the Butterflies. These were four ordinary sisters who resisted the brutal dictatorship in the Dominican Republic, and three of them ultimately were assassinated (https://www.vermontwoman.com/articles/2006/1206/index1206.html).

Vermont Woman now goes quiet, but Vermont women and men cannot. So many of the same issues linger, and far too many more have arisen. Children held in cages at the direction of the U.S. presidential administration? More sickeningly unfathomable than a rogue hurricane.

Step up and write impassioned letters to the editor (particularly of publications perhaps not aligned with your world view). Take time away from the echo chamber of social media and instead of waiting for marches on Montpelier or DC to be organized, plant yourself in the town common or the corner of your block—stand up for what matters to you.

And in this month of your birthday, Suzanne Gillis, most sincere and profuse thanks and much respect for having conceived and nurtured Vermont Woman. It has been a long, gutsy, meaningful endeavor. Brava.

Margaret Michniewicz was Vermont Woman publishing assistant (1988–1990) and editor (2004–2011). She is now visual arts acquisitions editor with Bloomsbury Publishing.