Vermonters are still searching for answers a month after Vermont State Police troopers fatally shot Scott Garvey, an unarmed, 55-year-old Putney resident experiencing a mental health crisis in his own apartment. While the facts are still scarce, the next steps follow a well-worn but little-understood track that can take months—and sometimes years—to complete. Here is what our readers can expect.
Criminal Investigation – Was the Shooting Legally Justified
Detectives from the Vermont State Police Criminal Division have already begun gathering body camera video, forensic evidence, and eyewitness statements. They provide the results of their investigation to both the Windham County State’s Attorney and the Vermont Attorney General, who independently decide whether
2025 Vermont Mad Pride: A Riot of Grief, Resistance, and Joy What Happens Next After the Scott Garvey Shooting
criminal charges are warranted.
Under Vermont’s statewide use of force statute, 20 V.S.A. § 2368, deadly force is justified only when, based on the totality of the circumstances, it is objectively reasonable and necessary to defend against an imminent threat of death or serious bodily injury to the officer or another person, or apprehend a fleeing felon whose capture is immediately necessary to prevent such harm. Prosecutors must also consider whether feasible, less-dangerous alternatives were available, whether the force was proportional, and whether the individual’s behavior was influenced by a mental impairment or other factor outside their control.
A Madvocate review of six recent police killings of individuals experiencing a mental health crisis shows the Attorney General typically rules in about three
By The Madvocate
BURLINGTON, Vt. July 12, 2025–
Under blistering summer heat and thunderous chants, more than 150 psychiatric survivors and allies gathered in Burlington for Vermont’s 2025 Mad Pride Day march and celebration. The day was as much a cry of pain as a roar of resistance— grief braided tightly with history, music, poetry, political vision, and fierce joy.
The event, co-organized by MadFreedom Advocates and supported by more than a dozen organizations statewide, took place just days after the police killing of Scott Garvey, an unarmed 55-yearold man in emotional distress, shot
in his own home by Vermont State Police. His sister, Kara Garvey, stood before the crowd with his dog Vinny at her side, choking back tears as she told the story of her brother’s life and death—his poetry, his generosity, his love of music, and how she brought him to Vermont from Memphis for safety only to lose him to state violence. “I tried to bring him up here to get him to safety and to get help. The irony is that he died here in our little state of Vermont.”
In a powerful statement read from the stage, MadFreedom Advocates condemned the killing as a “moral failure.”
But the day was not just about mourning—it was also about
CONTINUED ON PAGE 4
Scott Garvey’s sister, Kara Garvey, stands behind their mother, Judy Garvey, while supporter Willoughby Carlo kneels beside them at the vigil for Scott on July 14, 2025, in Putney, Vermont
Video still by Kristopher Radder / Br attleboro Reformer (from the July 15, 2025 video “Vigil for Scott Garvey”)
Photo by Oliver Parini / MadFreedom Advocates. Inc.
About MadFreedom Advocates
MadFreedom Advocates, Inc., emerged from both frustration and vision. For decades, psychiatric survivors in Vermont were promised a voice in shaping the systems that affect our lives—yet too often those promises rang hollow, leading to burnout, tokenism, and continued exclusion.
In 2023, a network of survivors came together to imagine something different: a truly community-led effort to organize, educate, and advocate for ourselves and one another. When the opportunity arose to reimagine how state resources could support our collective power, MadFreedom Advocates was
created to meet that moment. The name MadFreedom Advocates reflects our core belief that the freedom of mad people is bound up with the freedom of all people— and that liberation must be collective, not individual. We advocate not just for rights or reforms, but for a shared transformation of the systems that confine, silence, and separate us. We believe that lived experience is not something to overcome, but a source of knowledge, connection, and political clarity.
From the start, we were intentional. Rather than replicate tired service models
What’s in a Name?
or spread ourselves thin, we focused on what sustains us: building statewide survivor leadership, cultivating spaces for learning and mutual care, holding systems accountable, and launching
The Madvocate, a newspaper by and for our community. We are not asking to be
For Us, EVERYTHING
Why reclaiming the word mad is a political act of resistance and love
Some people flinch when they hear the word mad. “Why would anyone want to be called that?” they ask. It’s a fair question.
For many in our community, mad carries the weight of insult, coercion, and disappearance. It’s been used to dehumanize and exclude. And that’s precisely why reclaiming it matters.
Mad is not a diagnosis. It’s not a clinical label. It’s a political identity.
Like Black, queer, or disabled, mad marks a shared history of marginalization—but also a shared commitment to resistance. It signals a refusal to be defined by psychiatry or reduced to a diagnosis. It names the real oppression faced by those labeled mentally ill, and insists on our right to tell the truth about that experience.
Reclaiming mad is an act of love and self-respect. It’s a way of saying: whether or not I’m “well,” I am worthy. Whether or not I’m “sane,” I am human. The word becomes a shield against shame and a flag of solidarity.
Not everyone in our community uses the term—and no one should be pressured to. But for those who do, mad rewrites the master narrative.
It challenges the idea that madness is only tragedy, only illness, only something to fear or fix. It joins us to a global movement that affirms: we are not broken. We are not ashamed. And we are not alone.
Get Vermont’s only statewide newspaper written by and for people with lived experience—straight to your mailbox! Stay informed about news, events, resources, and stories that matter to our community. Scan the QR code or follow the link (https:// bit.ly/4nfLOlr) to sign up for FREE home delivery. Let us bring the movement to you
included in someone else’s vision. We are building our own. Rooted in solidarity, guided by justice, and powered by imagination, we are creating new ways to gather, speak, and act together. Our liberation is shared—and already in motion.
NEWS and VIEWS from MADFREEDOM ADVOCATES
Volume 1 No. 1 Summer 2025
The Madvocate P.O. Box 143 Waterbury Center, VT 05677-0143
The Madvocate amplifies the voices, vision, and leadership of psychiatric survivors, mad people, and those psychiatrized. Created by and for people with lived experience, our newspaper challenges systems of oppression, sparks dialogue, and builds community through news, arts, and advocacy. We report with integrity, imagination, and a commitment to justice—because our stories matter, and our liberation is non-negotiable.
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
With gratitude to Sarah Knutson, who gave The Madvocate its name.
The name MadFreedom Advocates reflects our core belief that the freedom of mad people is bound up with the freedom of all people—and that liberation must be collective, not individual.
EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Wilda L. White
ADVISORY EDITORIAL BOARD
Betsy Hoeskstra and Calvin Moen
OPERATIONS MANAGER
hannah sorila
ADVOCACY AND EDUCATION COORDINATOR
Neilah Rovinsky
PATIENT REPRESENTATIVES
Ada Johnson
Esmé Knoke
Eric Laufe
Emma Munson-Blatt
Neilah Rovinsky
PATIENT REPRESENTATIVE
MENTOR AND TRAINING COORDINATOR
Calvin Moen
We’re recruiting volunteers for an Advisory Editorial Board that reflects our readers—psychiatric survivors and people with lived experience, families, allies, and community members across Vermont. Before each quarterly issue, the Board meets with our team to review potential content and advise on the paper’s policy and scope. If you care about sharp, survivor-led journalism and want to help shape what we publish, we’d love your voice.
To be considered, email info@themadvocate.org with a few lines about your background and why you’d like to serve. No prior board experience required—curiosity and commitment are enough.
When Anti-Semitism Is Used to Destroy
Democracy: A Lecture by Rabbi Jill Jacobs
By The Madvocate
BURLINGTON, Vt., May 13, 2025 – In a time of rising global authoritarianism, when fear is weaponized and truth is manipulated, Rabbi Jill Jacobs delivered a warning that felt both ancient and urgent: Anti-Semitism is not just a threat to Jews—it is a threat to democracy itself.
Speaking to a packed house at Ohavi Zedek Synagogue in Burlington as part of the annual Pearly and Edith Feen Lecture, Rabbi Jacobs, the CEO of T’ruah: The Rabbinic Call for Human Rights, offered a wide-ranging and deeply layered analysis of anti-Semitism as it functions both historically and in our present political moment. Her talk, “Why is Anti-Semitism at the Center of Attacks on Democracy?” was not only a primer in Jewish history and politics—it was a call to solidarity, vigilance, and courage.
“Anti-Semitism is confusing,” she explained, “because it doesn’t follow the rules of other prejudices.”
The First Middleman Jacobs began not with modern geopolitics but with the Book of Genesis, recounting the story of Joseph, the enslaved Israelite who rose to become Pharaoh’s secondin-command. When famine swept Egypt, Joseph administered a program that centralized food and land under Pharaoh’s control. Although Pharaoh profited, it was Joseph—visible, powerful, foreign—who bore the resentment of the Egyptian people.
That resentment, Jacobs argued, mirrors a recurring pattern in Jewish history: Jews, often shut out from most professions, are offered proximity to power only to become scapegoats for oppressive policies. “Joseph might be the first Jew to take on this middleman role,” she said, “but he was not the last.”
Anti-Semitism’s Shape-Shifting Logic
Jacobs traced the history of antiSemitism from early Christian theological hatred to modern
“We need to be in the muck with other communities,” she said. “Either there’s democracy and safety for everyone, or for no one.”
racialized conspiracy theories.
“Anti-Semitism is confusing,” she explained, “because it doesn’t follow the rules of other prejudices.” Jews may be visible in powerful positions, but rather than disproving anti-Semitism, this visibility is often used as “proof” that Jews control the world.
Today’s resurgence, she warned, includes dangerous distortions. “The Trump administration claims to be fighting anti-Semitism,” Jacobs said, “but it’s using that fight to silence dissent, suppress immigrant rights, and dismantle democratic institutions.” Deporting student protesters, stripping funding from universities, and branding human rights groups as terrorists—all under the banner of protecting Jews—does not make Jews safer, she argued. It puts them in the crosshairs.
False Friends and Conditional Solidarity
Jacobs took aim at both the political right and left for their failures to address anti-Semitism honestly.
Christian Zionists, she noted, support Israeli policies not out of love for Jews but as part of a biblical end-times narrative where Jews are pawns. “It’s not support,” she said. “It’s instrumentalization.”
On the left, Jacobs acknowledged that anti-Semitism sometimes emerges within pro-Palestinian movements. “It is not anti-Semitic to protest the war in Gaza,” she emphasized, citing Israeli protests calling for a ceasefire. “But when protests cross into denying Jewish history or justifying violence against Jews, that’s anti-Semitism.”
Even in interfaith spaces, she observed, many Jewish leaders feel abandoned. Longtime allies have gone silent. “We have to ask for what we need,” she urged. “But we must also resist the temptation to withdraw our solidarity from other communities. Liberation is not transactional.”
Protecting Jews—or Policing Dissent?
One of the most chilling parts of Jacobs’s lecture concerned free speech on college campuses. She detailed how legitimate concerns about anti-Semitic harassment are being used as a pretext to suppress protest, deport students, and gut academic freedom.
She compared these efforts to past government crackdowns that disproportionately harmed Jews—such as Emma Goldman’s deportation during the Red Scare and censorship of the Jewish Daily Forward during World War I. “If the government can silence one group, it can silence anyone,” she warned.
A Jewish Fight for Democracy
For Jacobs, the solution lies in solidarity—not censorship. She called on Jews to resist being used as a wedge against other marginalized groups and to remember the ways anti-Semitism has historically served authoritarian power.
“We need to be in the muck with other communities,” she said. “Either there’s democracy and safety for everyone, or for no one.”
Citing 500 rabbis who recently signed a public letter rejecting the use of anti-Semitism to erode democratic freedoms, Jacobs ended on a note of hope and resistance. “Most Jews are not buying what’s being sold,” she said. “We understand that real safety comes not from autocracy, but from solidarity.”
For psychiatric survivors—many of whom have seen the government wield “protection” as a tool of harm—Jacobs’s message resonates. Anti-Semitism, like sanism, relies on false narratives of danger and control. And like psychiatric oppression, it often comes wrapped in claims of benevolence.
In this fight, silence is not an option. As Jacobs made clear, “Jews can’t be safe in a country that’s unsafe for others.”
Editor’s Note: You can learn more about T’ruah and download their anti-Semitism resource guide at truah.org/antisemitism .
For Jacobs, the solution lies in solidarity—not censorship. She called on Jews to resist being used as a wedge against other marginalized groups...
Rabbi Jill Jacobs
NEXT | CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1
months (average 93 days, median 94). The fastest decision came in 50 days; the slowest in 129. If past patterns hold, a decision in Scott Garvey’s death could land sometime in October 2025.
Simultaneous Internal Affairs Investigation
While prosecutors study whether lethal force violated criminal law, Vermont State Police Internal Affairs runs a parallel inquiry that asks a different question: Did troopers follow department policy and training? The criminal review must finish first; only then can the Commissioner of Public Safety impose discipline, ranging from exoneration to termination.
The review won’t just look at whether pulling the trigger was justified. It will also examine why the troopers entered Garvey’s home in the first place, weighing what information they had—and what they didn’t—against the requirements of the statewide Use of Force Policy and other official rules.
PRIDE | CONTINUED FROM PAGE 1
remembering, reimagining, and reclaiming. Throughout the afternoon, the stage became a sacred ground for truth-telling, storytelling, and visionary resistance.
Longtime activist Laura Ziegler took the mic to deliver a vivid, living history of the psychiatric survivor movement, tracing its roots to the 1970s and recalling the last major national gathering of ex-patients— also held in Burlington, in 1985. With clarity and dry wit, Ziegler recounted the fierce internal debates over government funding and the risk of co-optation that ultimately fractured the movement. “The movement was destroyed both by taking money and by not having it,” she said.
Ziegler reflected on the false dichotomy between accepting financial support from the mental health system and maintaining a radical stance. “It was not necessary to split into either for or against,” she said. “Because when it comes down to it, what it’s really about is pushback and resistance to the deaths inflicted on people—the soul murder inflicted on people by the mental health system in the form of forced psychiatric drugging or electroshock and worse. If you focus on the actual work and on the actual wrongs, instead of who among us is ideologically impure and doing it wrong, it is possible to continue. And many people did continue.”
Ziegler closed with a reading of “Wisteria,” a haunting, politically charged poem she authored that captured the trauma of psychiatric institutionalization through the eyes of someone bearing witness—and perhaps intervening—to shield another from its harms. The poem
Vermont State Police Office of Internal Affairs runs a parallel inquiry that asks a different question: Did troopers follow department policy and training?
State Police Advisory Commission
Before the Commissioner of Public Safety finalizes any discipline decision, she can seek outside advice on high-profile cases from the State Police Advisory Commission (SPAC), a volunteer civilian board.
Mental Health Crisis Response Commission
Regardless of any criminal or disciplinary outcome, 2017 Act 45 requires the Mental Health Crisis Response Commission (MHCRC) to study every police encounter with persons acting in a manner that created reason to believe a mental
evoked the tension between care and control, the quiet violence of confinement, the futility of aesthetic niceties in masking systemic abuse, and the enduring awareness of those locked inside. Heard as both lament and indictment, it also landed as a quiet act of love and protection.
Caro Liu, a survivor of the selfdescribed “troubled teen industry,” delivered a powerful and unflinching critique of youth incarceration in coercive psychiatric settings. Recounting years of institutional abuse that began at age 13, Liu described being forcibly stripped, silenced, medicated, and denied even the most basic human rights.
“I grieve for my childhood,” Liu said. “And when I grieve and when I weep, I weep for our children in Gaza.”
Liu’s remarks, grounded in personal experience and political urgency, linked psychiatric oppression to broader systems of carceral violence and colonialism. In closing, Liu addressed fellow survivors directly: “To the people who were incarcerated as youth and who are incarcerated now—you don't need to be fixed. You never did. You didn't deserve what happened to you. Society failed you. You had a lot to offer your communities then, and you still do now.”
Leah Harris, a second-generation psychiatric survivor and activist, delivered a powerful address highlighting the ongoing dangers faced by people with mental health challenges, especially those who are marginalized by race, gender, or disability. Drawing on her own family’s experiences with psychiatric institutions and state intervention, Harris underscored the enduring trauma caused by forced separation, systemic neglect, and
health crisis was occurring and resulted in a fatality or serious bodily injury. The shooting must be referred to the MHCRC through the Attorney General’s office by law within 60 days. The MHCRC cannot start reviewing until prosecutors close their file or decline charges. The MHCRC— which includes one psychiatric survivor—issues an annual report.
When will the public see the evidence? Expect the official record to remain mostly sealed until the State’s Attorney and Attorney General decide.
What to watch for next
Vermont State Police must forward the case to the Mental Health Crisis Response Commission by September 5, 2025. Historical averages suggest the Attorney General could announce whether the shooting was legally justified by October 2025. Until then, the public is likely to face a frustrating information gap. The Madvocate will continue to press for transparency and follow every step of the investigation.
“I tried to bring him up here to get him to safety and to get help. The irony is that he died here in our little state of Vermont.”
the medicalization of distress. She called on the audience to honor their ancestors and collective history, emphasizing that the struggle for mad liberation is deeply connected to broader movements for social justice and against state violence. Harris advocated for mutual aid, community-based support, and solidarity, urging the crowd to honor their mad ancestors and become “the furious weeds” that bloom in concrete cracks.
Vivan Bose-Pyne, an electroshock survivor and organizer with the Party for Socialism and Liberation, linked madness with capitalism, imperialism, and poverty. “Poor people are fucked up in the head because we’re living under bombs,” they declared. “Organizing is the way out. Let’s not just resist. Let’s revolt.”
The program also featured an original performance by Jasmine Marshall, a North Carolina-based singer-songwriter, and proud madwoman, who shared her song “Tunnel Vision,” a melodic meditation on psychosis, isolation, and survival.
Burlington native MJ Griego brought the crowd back home with reflections on growing up mixed-race in a white-dominated town, naming the deep soul wounds of colonialism and the healing power of mutual
aid and solidarity. “What heals me,” they said, “is the magic I feel when someone asks for mutual aid and we show up. Not just once a year, but consistently.”
The day’s final keynote came from Sascha Altman DuBrul, cofounder of The Icarus Project and longtime mad visionary. In a wideranging, electric talk that covered Hopi grammar, punk rock, AI, Jungian psychology, and the future of psychiatric resistance, DuBrul offered both history and prophecy. “The world has already ended,” he said. “But we’re still here. We have a role to play. The mad ones will help build what comes next.”
Behind the stage, mutual aid tables buzzed with zines, food, cold drinks, peer support, and COVID tests. A memorial tent honored Scott Garvey and all victims of state violence. A medical tent offered support for anyone in distress. A debrief was announced for Sunday morning with free breakfast and a hybrid format for those unable to attend in person. Only two members of the originally booked band made it to Mad Pride, so the duo re-christened themselves “Baby Beck & April Showers,” and launched into an acoustic set to close out the day.
Emcee Betsy Hoekstra closed the event by expressing deep gratitude to everyone who attended, organized, and supported the gathering, emphasizing that despite the suffering and trauma many have experienced, our community is not alone in our pain, nor are we alone in our hope.
Indeed, for a few blazing hours in Burlington, madness was not a diagnosis—it was a drumbeat, a lineage, a banner held high. And in that fierce collective rhythm, the seeds of liberation were sown again.
Supreme Court Upholds Tennessee Ban on Gender-Affirming Care for Minors
By The Madvocate
On June 18, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming medical care for minors is constitutional. The case, United States v. Skrmetti , challenged a 2023 state law that prohibits doctors from providing puberty blockers or hormones to people under 18 if the purpose is to support a gender identity different from their sex assigned at birth.
The Court ruled 6–3 in favor of the state, rejecting arguments that the law discriminates against transgender youth.
What the Law Does
Tennessee’s law allows puberty blockers and hormones to be used for some medical conditions— such as precocious puberty, certain hormone disorders, or physical injuries. But it bans those same treatments when the goal is to help a young person live in a gender identity different from their assigned sex. As a result, the same medication may be legal or illegal depending on why it is being used. For
example, a doctor may prescribe puberty blockers to delay early puberty, but not to delay puberty for a transgender person.
The law also includes enforcement tools. The state attorney general can seek civil penalties of $25,000 per violation. Regulatory boards can discipline doctors, and individuals can sue providers under certain circumstances.
The Court’s Reasoning
The Court based its ruling on the legal standard known as rational basis review, the lowest level of constitutional review. Under this standard, a law is allowed as long as it is rationally related to a legitimate government interest . The Court does not ask whether the law is wise or fair—only whether lawmakers had some reasonable justification.
Tennessee argued that the treatments pose risks to minors, including possible sterility, longterm health consequences, and psychological effects. The state also cited uncertainty in the scientific research and said some people later regret medical transition decisions made in youth.
The Court accepted these reasons and found that the law’s age- and diagnosis-based rules were valid under rational basis review.
What the Case Was Not About
The plaintiffs—three transgender minors, their families, and a doctor—had argued that the law discriminates based on sex and transgender status, and that it should be reviewed under a higher standard called heightened scrutiny. Courts apply heightened scrutiny when a law targets protected groups, such as laws based on sex or race.
The Supreme Court rejected that argument. The majority said the law does not classify people by sex or transgender status, but by medical purpose. Because the law applies the same way to all minors—regardless of their sex—it did not trigger heightened scrutiny.
The Court also declined to apply the reasoning of its 2020 decision in Bostock v. Clayton County, which found that firing someone for being transgender violates federal employment law. The majority said Bostock involved different legal issues and did not apply here.
The Dissent
Three justices dissented. Justice Sotomayor, joined by Justices Jackson and Kagan, argued that the law does in fact discriminate based on sex and transgender status. The dissent said the law denies transgender youth medical care because of who they are, and that it would not have been passed if not for bias against transgender people.
What This Means
The decision allows Tennessee’s law to remain in effect. Similar laws have been passed in more than 20 states, many of which are now likely to stand. Transgender youth in those states may no longer have access to the medical care they previously received.
The ruling does not stop states from allowing genderaffirming care. It leaves the decision to state legislatures.
The Court’s opinion emphasized that its role is limited to interpreting the Constitution. Questions about medical policy, it said, are for elected officials and the democratic process.
Vermont Psychiatric Survivors Enters New Chapter
By The Madvocate
For more than three decades, Vermont Psychiatric Survivors (VPS) was the state’s primary survivor-led organization tasked with leadership and advocacy for psychiatric survivors. That changed this year when the Vermont Department of Mental Health awarded the contract to MadFreedom Advocates. What happens next for VPS? The Madvocate sat down with longtime board member and current president, Zack Hughes to find out.
“We’re in transition,” Hughes said. “But we’re still here, and we’re still doing the work.”
Though the loss of the state contract marked a turning point, Hughes made it clear that VPS is not shutting down. “We’re continuing to represent psychiatric survivors on state committees,” he said. Hughes currently sits on the Mental Health Crisis Response Committee and recently began attending the Land Access Board meetings. He said he is working to identify and support
others to take on these roles.
The VPS website, which was once down, has been rebuilt by Hughes himself (https://www.vpsvt. org). A recent blog post discusses state disability policies during hotel displacements—proof, Hughes said, that VPS continues to monitor state actions affecting marginalized Vermonters. VPS also made a donation to support this year’s Mad Pride Day march and celebration.
While Hughes admitted that the loss of the state contract was “both an angering experience and a little bit of a traumatic one,” he’s come to view the change as an opportunity.
“In the beginning, I was angry,” he said. “But I realized we were being held accountable. Members were trying to speak to us, and maybe we didn’t hear them. I think that’s why we lost confidence.”
Hughes said that VPS still has a small amount of grant funding—about $44,000—and is applying for more. He described the organization’s current moment as a “fresh slate,” with efforts underway to reassess their role
and strengthen collaboration.
He welcomed the idea of working with MadFreedom Advocates to build up the next generation of advocates and board members.
The end of VPS’s contract also marked the closing of its paid staff positions and a difficult farewell.
“It felt bitter at the end,” Hughes admitted. “I wish it hadn’t, but it did.” He said most former staff members quickly found other jobs and that VPS is now reevaluating its office space needs. Tom Tench, who oversaw the finances for VPS during Walt Wade’s tenure as executive director, has taken on the role of Executive Director. In addition to Hughes, board members include Sara Merrow, Robert Dyer, Keith Molinari, Rodney Nicklaw, and Bill Collins.
Despite these challenges, Hughes sounded hopeful. “This isn’t a Pepsi and Coke situation,” he said. “It’s not about competition. It’s about how we do the work. There’s room for all of us.”
And for VPS, that means continuing to show up—just
differently.
“We’re still committed to advocacy, still committed to showing up for people. And we’re open to working together. That’s the important part moving forward.”
Disclosure: MadFreedom Advocates publishes The Madvocate and was awarded the state contract previously held by Vermont Psychiatric Survivors to provide peer-led leadership and advocacy services. This article was written to inform our readers about VPS’s transition and continued role in the survivor movement. The interviewee was aware of this relationship at the time of the interview.
Keynote at DMH Conference Leaves Survivors Feeling Erased
By The Madvocate
The Vermont Department of Mental Health’s April 2025 conference opened with a keynote choice that many psychiatric survivors say left them feeling erased, retraumatized, and angry. The speaker, Anne Moss Rogers—a mother whose son Charles died by suicide in 2015—relayed a dramatic family journey through depression, addiction, wilderness therapy, and psychiatric treatment.
Several survivors felt the talk centered a narrow biomedical story and lacked a livedexperience voice, describing it as an instance of “erasure.”
“I wanted to hear Charles’s perspective,” said Neilah Rovinsky, one of several survivors in attendance. “I felt the story that was told was incomplete, potentially denying the role that coercion and trauma may have played in what happened.”
Rovinsky highlighted a slide that showed Charles being forcibly
transported—a practice survivors call being “gooned.” “In the photo of him being gooned, he looked very upset, yet the narrative insisted he was happy. That’s erasure,” she said.
Survivors framed the keynote as part of a broader pattern. “DMH seems to do this every year,” noted Wilda White, executive editor
Aaron Schiff, a peer-support specialist with a designated agency, had mixed feelings. “The keynote did what it was designed to do— it made you feel something. But afterward I found myself asking: why hear from a parent instead of someone who has lived with suicidality and is still here?”
“I felt the story that was told was incomplete, potentially denying the role that coercion and trauma may have played in what happened.”
of this inaugural issue. “Parents are centered, and survivors are expected to accept their version of our lives and deaths.”
Rovinsky also questioned the conference’s emotional staging.
“After one of the saddest moments, they played a video of a baby laughing to lighten the mood. Why can’t we sit with pain at a mental health conference? That felt antithetical to the purpose of talking about difficult emotions.”
Following the talk, Schiff and other survivors gathered outside the main hall. “That gathering was the highlight of the conference,” he said. “We needed community just to recover from what we’d heard.”
Survivors also criticized how the son’s relapse after therapeutic boarding school was framed. “In those programs, staff monitor your calls,” Rovinsky explained. “If you say anything negative, they make you hang up. So,
it isn’t surprising he told his mother it was great—and just as unsurprising, though devastating, that he relapsed afterward.”
Rovinsky raised a deeper concern: “Suicide is constantly presented as proof that mental illness is biological and a “problem’ within an individual. But what if, instead, it’s proof that what we call ‘treatment’ failed?
In a written response, DMH said keynote speakers are selected for relevance to the theme, expertise, and communication style. The department noted that survivor voices—such as Patricia Deegan and William Kellibrew—have headlined past conferences and said it remains committed to expanding inclusion through partnerships with peer-led organizations.
To many survivors, reassurances fall short. “Until our voices aren’t just included but centered,” White said, “DMH’s claim to value lived experience will remain a hollow refrain echoing off a stage we were never meant to stand on.”
“Psych Rehab” Featured at DMH Conference
By The Madvocate
KILLINGTON, VT — During the Vermont Department of Mental Health’s annual conference at the Killington Grand Hotel on April 9, attendees had the opportunity to attend a workshop on psychiatric rehabilitation, presented by Tara Miller, Crisis and Curriculum Development Specialist for the department's crisis team.
Miller, a Certified Psychiatric Rehabilitation Practitioner (CPRP), has worked in various areas of the mental health system for over two decades, including peer support, inpatient and outpatient care, and clubhouses. She explained that psychiatric rehabilitation— or “psych rehab”—is a service model designed to support people with serious mental health challenges in achieving functional goals related to living, learning, working, and socializing.
Psych rehab, Miller noted, is based on a structured approach of "diagnosis, planning, and intervention." The "diagnosis" phase is not about giving a medical
label but helping the individual identify areas where they want to improve functioning. The planning phase focuses on setting goals and identifying supports and skill needs. The intervention phase involves teaching skills and coordinating resources. The model is individualized and person-directed, focusing on the person’s chosen goals rather than provider-assigned tasks.
Examples of goals might include moving into an apartment, returning to school, or building a new social relationship. Practitioners help break these down into small, concrete steps. One example Miller shared involved helping someone overcome a trauma-related fear of bathing by starting with placing a hand under running water and gradually building up comfort and trust.
The session also discussed how psych rehab differs from clinical treatment models. Rather than aiming to reduce symptoms, it emphasizes increasing capacity and satisfaction in real-life roles. While it can be delivered alongside therapy or medication, psych rehab
“Psych Rehab”— is a service model designed to support people with serious mental health challenges in achieving functional goals related to living, learning, working, and socializing.
is distinct in its focus on skillbuilding and personal goals.
Miller noted that Vermont does not currently recognize the CPRP credential for billing, although several other states do. She explained that recognition of this credential could allow for Medicaid reimbursement and greater integration of psych rehab into the system.
During the workshop, one attendee described the difficulty of applying psych rehab approaches with individuals who are not interested in participating in treatment planning, do not want to engage with services, or frequently
reject or fire their providers. The attendee explained that their agency was continuing to provide support to individuals who did not appear ready or willing to work toward goals. In response, Miller suggested asking the individual what they want out of the service and whether they want anything to change. She emphasized that psych rehab requires a certain level of readiness and might not be appropriate in every situation. “If they've been in case management for 30 years, and that's just what they've always done, then I would say they're not ready for case management,” she said. She added, “I don’t know if I would stop serving them, but I would certainly stop forcing treatment on them”.
The workshop concluded with a discussion of the importance of relationships, personal choice, and community integration. According to Miller, psychiatric rehabilitation is not a lifelong service, but one meant to equip people with the tools they need to reach their goals and eventually rely more on natural supports and community resources.
Legislature Expands Access to Sealing Criminal Records—But Advocates Say It Doesn’t Go Far Enough
By The Madvocate
Vermont lawmakers passed a new law this session that gives more people a chance to seal their criminal records and move on with their lives. The bill, S.12, covers both misdemeanor and some felony offenses and allows people to ask the court to seal or expunge their criminal history records, depending on the type of case.
Sealing a record means the public can’t see it anymore, but law enforcement, courts, and victims can still access it if needed. Expungement goes further—it erases the record completely, as if the case never happened.
The new law simplifies and speeds up the process for sealing or expunging records, including:
• Reducing the waiting periods after a sentence is complete—from 5 to 3 years for some misdemeanors, and from 10 to 7 years for some felonies.
• Making more drug possession charges eligible.
• Allowing some DUI convictions to be sealed if at least 10 years have passed.
• Requiring automatic sealing for certain offenses committed by young adults ages 18–21.
Advocates: A Good Start, But Fix the Diversion Gap
MadFreedom, a survivor-led human and civil rights group, says the law is a big step forward—but still leaves a dangerous loophole. The group supported most of the bill but opposed the part that continues to use expungement —not sealing—for people who complete court diversion programs. According to MadFreedom, expungement can make serious information disappear forever, including for victims, courts, and even regulators. In one example, a nurse assaulted a psychiatric patient. The case went to diversion and was later expunged. When advocates tried to bring up the case during a later policy debate about violence in health care settings, the records— including video proof—were gone. “This distorted the policy discussion and silenced the victim,” according to MadFreedom. MadFreedom argued that sealing the record instead of erasing it entirely would still protect the person’s future while keeping an official record available for accountability. MadFreedom called it a “balance”—a second chance without rewriting history. They urged lawmakers to replace the word “expungement” with “sealing” for
all diversion cases. That small change, they said, would give defendants a clean slate and ensure victims’ stories aren’t erased.
What’s Next
The new law takes effect July 1, 2025. While many Vermonters will benefit, advocates say they’ll keep pushing for reforms that protect both second chances, victims, and the public record.
Got a Story to Tell?
Help shape the news in The Madvocate! If you know about an event, issue, or story that matters to psychiatric survivors, send your tips and ideas to info@themadvocate.org. Your input helps us cover what matters most to our community.
How to Seal or Expunge Your Criminal Record in Vermont
If you have a criminal record, you may be able to get it sealed or expunged under Vermont’s new law. Here’s how to start:
STEP 1: Find Out If You’re Eligible
You may qualify if:
• Your charge was a misdemeanor (except certain listed crimes).
• Your conviction was for drug possession or certain property crimes.
• Enough time has passed since you completed your sentence: 3 years for many misdemeanors 7 years for some felonies 10 years for DUI (in some cases) You’ve paid all restitution and fees (unless waived).
Not sure if you qualify? You can:
• Review your case records at the court where your case was heard
• Get legal help from Vermont Legal Aid or a criminal defense attorney
Check your criminal history through the Vermont Crime Information Center (VCIC)
• Watch for Expungement Clinics hosted in your community
WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?
STEP 2: File a Petition
To ask the court to seal or expunge your record:
• Download the petition form from the Vermont Judiciary website (https://bit.ly/4l95tBG)
• File it with the court where your case was heard
The State’s Attorney or Attorney General will review your request
If they agree, the court may approve your request without a hearing.
STEP 3: Wait for a Decision
The court will:
• Review your petition
• Make sure you meet the requirements
• Decide whether sealing or expungement serves the “interests of justice”
If your petition is denied, you may have to wait two years to reapply.
• Sealing hides your record from public view, but courts and law enforcement can still access it. • Expungement erases the record entirely—as if it never happened.
In most cases, sealing offers the same protections when applying for jobs, housing, or school.
What We Inherit, What We Heal
Dr. Dionne Powell on Race, Trauma, and the Mind
By The Madvocate
BURLINGTON, VT — At a lecture hosted by the University of Vermont on April 11, Dr. Dionne Powell spoke hard truths that many of us know in our bones: racism doesn’t just live in institutions —it gets under our skin, into our families, and deep into our minds. Powell, a psychoanalyst and educator, gave the annual Bruce Gibbard Memorial Lecture as part of the UVM Psychiatry Department’s Grand Rounds. According to Powell, the trauma of racism begins early—so early we often don’t have words for it. It’s passed down in how we’re touched, talked to, or ignored. It shows up in silence. It shapes how we are seen—and how we see ourselves.
Powell didn’t just name racism as a social problem. She talked about how it lives inside the therapy room. Inside clinicians. Inside families. Inside us.
“We are all raced,” she said. “We become raced through early family experiences and through trauma passed down across generations.”
She explained how these experiences start in childhood. A parent tightens their grip when passing a Black man. A child notices. A therapist stays silent when race comes up. The silence becomes a message: don’t speak. Don’t feel. Don’t name what’s happening.
In her work as a psychoanalyst, Powell listens for what she calls enigmatic messages —those hardto-name emotional signals that carry racism and fear. She told one story of a white toddler who smiled at her—until he saw his mother frown. The child quickly copied the frown. The
message was clear: don’t smile at her. Another patient once asked if her ancestors were enslaved, not to be rude, but because he sensed in her a kind of freedom he didn’t understand. That kind of exchange, Powell said, reveals how deep the racial messages run—even when we don’t fully realize what we’re saying or hearing.
Powell said mental health professionals must do their own inner work. Sitting in silence while someone struggles with racism is not neutral—it’s avoidance.
“Being
prejudiced and racially shaped is a primary form of self-protection—even if what is protected are the ghosts and illusions of our caregivers’ fears, fantasies and anxieties.”
—
Dr.
Dionne Powell
“Being prejudiced and racially shaped is a form of self-protection,” she said. “Even if what’s being protected are the ghosts and fears of our parents and caregivers.”
These ghosts—the messages we inherit but don’t name—haunt our lives. But Powell offered another way: healing not through diagnosis, not through pills or control, but through truth. Through staying present in pain. Through saying what was never said.
For psychiatric survivors, especially those of us who have been racialized in any way, Powell’s message was rare and radical. She reminded us that what we carry is not weakness or illness—it’s survival. It’s wisdom. And it deserves to be heard. Our pain is not a disorder. Sometimes it’s a signal. A scream. A truth no one else wants to face. But if someone is willing to sit with us in that truth—not fix us, not fear us, but be with us—healing becomes possible.
Involuntary Hospitalization Shown to Increase Risk of Suicide and Violence, Study Finds
By The Madvocate
NEW YORK, July 2025 — A groundbreaking study released by researchers from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York highlights disturbing findings regarding the outcomes of involuntary psychiatric hospitalization. The report, titled "A Danger to Self and Others: Health and Criminal Consequences of Involuntary Hospitalization," reveals that involuntary hospitalization, a widespread practice that proponents say is aimed at preventing harm, may unexpectedly increase both the risk of suicide and the likelihood of violent crime among individuals hospitalized against their will.
Drawing on administrative data from Allegheny County, Pennsylvania, the researchers found that involuntary hospitalization nearly doubled the risk of dying by suicide or overdose and
also doubled the probability of individuals being charged with violent crimes in the three months following their hospitalization. The study's findings focused specifically on "judgment call" cases where some physicians would choose to hospitalize, while others would not.
This significant increase in adverse outcomes appears to be linked to disruptions caused by involuntary hospitalization. The researchers documented that those hospitalized involuntarily experienced substantial disruptions in employment, housing stability, and financial earnings. Specifically, individuals faced a nearly 20% decline in quarterly earnings post-hospitalization, accompanied by increased reliance on homeless shelters. Notably, the study also found that involuntary hospitalization did not significantly improve
connections to ongoing mental health services or medication adherence. The implications are profound, suggesting that involuntary hospitalization as currently practiced may fail in its intended goals and even exacerbate risks for people who are already facing significant challenges. The researchers argue for caution among policymakers advocating for expanded involuntary hospitalization laws. Their data strongly suggest that without substantial changes in how post-hospitalization care is managed and integrated, broader involuntary hospitalization could lead to more harm than good.
As psychiatric survivors and advocates have long highlighted, forced treatment often intensifies the very problems it claims to address. This landmark report adds important evidence to
calls for alternatives that respect individuals' autonomy, dignity, and rights to voluntary, accessible, and supportive care. The full report is publicly available through the Federal Reserve Bank of New York’s research database and at this link: https://bit.ly/46WZNGW.
Dr. Dionne Powell
Photo
Psychiatry’s most protected space is not the clinic—it’s the lecture hall. Grand Rounds is where the profession rehearses its logic, affirms its values, and reproduces its worldview.
Each week, the Department of Psychiatry at the University of Vermont holds Grand Rounds. Clinicians gather to teach, learn, and reinforce the norms of their field. The public is not invited. Survivors are rarely mentioned— except as symptoms, case studies, or pathologies.
In this column, we listen in—and talk back. Through survivor critique, reflection, and analysis, we uncover what these lectures reveal about how psychiatry sees itself. We ask what gets left unsaid, who is left out, and how these professional performances affect real people’s lives. This is a space for clarity, disruption, and accountability. This is survivor scholarship in real time.
Rounds Interrupted
The Madvocate’s Response to UVM Psychiatry Grand Rounds
Mindfulness or Mind-Fogginess? Survivors Respond to Psychiatry’s
Latest Fix
“Mindfulness has almost no side-effects.”
—Emma Zhao, M.D., Grand Rounds presenter, April 25, 2025
By The Madvocate
BURLINGTON, VT -- On April 25, the UVM psychiatry department’s Grand Rounds opened with a PowerPoint slide promising salvation through mindfulness. For sixty-odd minutes, Emma Zhao, Co-Chief Resident in the UVM Department of Psychiatry, reassured her colleagues that meditation is science-y, cheap, and conveniently chemical-free. The Madvocate listened. Here’s what we heard.
A brain built for fear—so trust us to fix it?
Zhao’s pitch was elegant: evolution wired our brains for snakes, sugar, sex, and social status; mindfulness rewires our brain for 2025. But when psychiatry invokes “evolutionary advantage,” it feels too familiar. The same profession once justified forced sterilizations by claiming defective genes. Today’s soft-edged version swaps eugenics for TED-talk optimism, but the formula is identical: Your brain is broken; let us recalibrate it.
What the numbers really show
During the lecture, Zhao openly listed every research caveat: most mindfulness trials enroll only a few dozen people, many are “cross-sectional” snapshots rather than long-term follow-ups, and positive findings often hinge on single bursts of color in an fMRI scanner—correlations that may or may not translate into clinical change. She also acknowledged publication bias (studies with no results rarely see daylight) and the difficulty of replicating brainimaging work when meditation styles and experience levels vary so widely. Still, Zhao raced past those red flags to declare mindfulness “non-inferior” to Lexapro. “Noninferior” is doublespeak for “we
don’t really know.” As psychiatric survivors, we’ve spent decades inside clinics where tentative data hardened into treatment mandates— lobotomy, insulin shock, atypical antipsychotics. Forgive us if we are hesitant to accept yet another miracle backed by small studies with too few participants to give clear answers.
Side effects psychiatry doesn’t measure
Zhao called mindfulness “one of the least side-effect laden interventions in psychiatry,” noting only rare reports of distress in ultraintensive retreats. That framing leaves out how the setting can change the impact. Mindfulness in a coercive environment too easily becomes a compliance tool—“Take a breath and accept the hold” or “Notice your resistance to meds.” Survivors forced to attend hospital “wellness groups” report dissociation, shame, and the subtle message that protest equals pathology. Researchers don’t track these harms, so the official side effect list stays short – even when the lived experience is long.
Whose wisdom is this, anyway?
The lecture quoted Thích Nhất Hạnh yet never mentioned the Vietnamese monk’s anti-war activism or critique of power. Stripped of its liberation roots, mindfulness is repackaged for productivity apps and prior authorization codes. Psychiatric survivors—especially those racialized, queer, or otherwise marginalized—recognize the pattern: extract the practice, erase its politics, sell it back as therapy. What would survivor-informed mindfulness look like?
Consent, not coercion –Participation is voluntary, with opt-outs respected—no chart note branding
refusal as “non-compliant.”
Power analysis first – Before watching “trains of thought,” name the tracks: colonization, racism, sanism, patriarchy. Awareness without context is gaslighting.
Collective over individual –Mindfulness was born in community. Replace solitary breathing drills with survivor-led circles that honor rage and grief alongside calm.
Material change – A minute of silence is no substitute for safe housing, nutritious food, and freedom from forced treatment.
An invitation to psychiatrists We’re not anti-mindfulness; many of us sit, chant, or walk in silence. But we practice to reclaim agency, not to sand down our resistance. If psychiatry truly wants to reduce suffering, try mindful listening: Notice your pulse when a survivor questions your authority.
Sit with the urge to pathologize dissent.
Breathe through the discomfort of redistributing power.
Until then, Grand Rounds will remain, for us, a familiar scene: well-meaning experts polishing another tool that fits neatly into the same old hierarchy.
Mindfulness is fine. Mindliberation is better.
Rounds Interrupted amplifies survivor voices on the psychiatric stage. Got a tip or a take? Write us at info@themadvocate.org
Email Julie.Dumas@uvm. edu to join the UVM Psychiatry Grand Rounds mailing list.
Sessions meet on Zoom every Friday from 10:30 to 11:45 a.m. during the academic year.
Mad Pride Hijacked in Germany, Survivors Say
By The Madvocate
A call to action from psychiatric survivors in Germany is raising concern among international Mad Pride organizers, who say the movement is being appropriated and depoliticized under the banner of “mental health awareness.”
In an April email to survivor networks, German activist Shrank Dernbach described efforts by state-funded mental health user groups in Germany and Switzerland to rebrand Mad Pride as a sanitized, feel-good event focused on destigmatization and treatment—not on resistance, rights, or the lived experience of psychiatric oppression.
“The core of our struggle is being erased,” Dernbach wrote in an email interview. “If these events become the public face of Mad Pride, the term will be emptied of its radical, survivor-led, justice-centered meaning.”
A Parade in Name Only
At the center of the controversy is an event scheduled for October 11 in Stuttgart, Germany. Promoted as “Mad Pride Day,” the event is being organized by the Landesverband Psychiatrie-Erfahrener BadenWürttemberg, a state association of people with psychiatric experience. Although its name suggests survivor leadership, critics say the group has long aligned itself with the mental health system and receives financial support from the state and health insurers.
leadership and resistance to psychiatric violence, coercion, and forced treatment.
The traditional Mad Pride logo—used by many events around the world—shows a bold, shouting figure breaking chains, with the words: “Mad Pride: The Right to Be Free • The Right to Be Me.” It communicates urgency, rage, and liberation.
By contrast, the Stuttgart logo—a green butterfly with a mental health awareness ribbon as its body—evokes gentleness, recovery, and self-improvement. Critics say this shift in symbolism reflects a deeper shift in values: from collective action to individual adjustment; from protest to awareness; from challenging the system to working within it.
According to Dernbach, the organization split from Germany’s national psychiatric survivor network over disagreements in 2013—specifically, the Baden-Württemberg group’s public support for forced psychiatric treatment under certain conditions.
The Stuttgart parade, they argue, continues this trend. The event is scheduled to coincide with Germany’s national “Week of Mental Health,” and its logo—a green butterfly with a green ribbon for a body—draws from standard mental health awareness imagery. On their website, organizers describe the butterfly as symbolizing hope for improved mental health.
“They do not challenge the mental health system or the medical model of madness,” Dernbach said. “Several of them even work in the system as professionals or as so-called ‘experts by experience.’”
Rewriting History, Silencing Dissent
Critics say the Stuttgart organizers have also misrepresented the history of Mad Pride. Rather than recognizing its roots as a survivor-led protest against coercion and psychiatric abuse, the organizers frame Mad Pride as part of a broader public education effort focused on destigmatizing mental health conditions.
On their website, the organizers explicitly state that radical political opinions or criticism of psychiatric services are not welcome at the event, claiming such expressions have “plenty of other occasions.”
The History—and Spirit—of Mad Pride
Mad Pride was born in Toronto in 1993, when psychiatric survivors organized a week of events to celebrate their identities, protest psychiatric oppression, and demand civil and human rights. Organizers chose July 14—Bastille Day— as the date for Mad Pride marches to symbolize liberation from institutions, just as the storming of the Bastille prison ignited the French Revolution. Since then, Mad Pride events have spread across the world, always rooted in survivor
One section even uses the term “Rasse”—a word with a historically racist connotation in German—that has raised additional concerns among
For survivors like Dernbach, the stakes are high. “When this kind of appropriation becomes normalized, our history— past, present, and future— may be erased. Our voices will be silenced even more,” they said.
A Call to Reclaim the Movement
In response, Dernbach and a fellow activist are preparing an open letter calling on the Stuttgart and Swiss organizers to rename their events and stop co-opting the Mad Pride name. The letter will be shared widely and directed to both the Stuttgart parade organizers and those responsible for similar events in Switzerland, where co-optation has been occurring for several years.
The organizers hope to gather support from psychiatric survivor organizations, radical mental health activists, and allies around the world. “We need to make the origins and history of Mad Pride accessible,” Dernbach said. “Only then can we resist its rebranding into something it was never meant to be.”
To receive a copy of the open letter or to sign on, readers are encouraged to email psychismus-stoppen@posteo.de.
The traditional Mad Pride image (top) reflects the movement’s origins in protest and liberation.
The Stuttgart event’s logo (bottom) draws from mental health awareness imagery and emphasizes themes of healing and selfimprovement.
Resource Guide Resource Guide
DISCLAIMER: The listings in this directory are provided for informational purposes only. The Madvocate does not endorse any listed organization, service, or provider. Inclusion here does not imply affiliation or quality assurance. Please exercise your own judgment and inquire directly with each organization about its services, values, and practices. If you experience mistreatment or discrimination, we encourage you to speak out and share your story.
Survivor-Run Organizations
These are organizations founded and operated by people with lived experience of madness, psychiatric diagnosis, or system involvement. They offer alternatives to conventional mental health systems through peer support, advocacy, education, and respite. Many can be contacted via their websites and welcome direct outreach by phone or email.
Peer-run community center for support, advocacy, and advocacy for people avoiding conventional mental health services. 125 Barre St., Montpelier, VT 05601 (802) 229-0920 anotherwayvt.org
Copeland Center
Peer-led trainings focused building personal wellness and crisis plans, offering trainings, classes, toolkits, webinars and technical assistance. PO Box 6471, Brattleboro, VT 05302 (802) 254-5335 copelandcenter.com
MadFreedom, Inc.
Human and civil rights advocacy organization advocating for systemic change. It does not provide direct advocacy for individuals. PO Box 38, Poultney, VT 05674 (833) 777-4557 madfreedom.org
MadFreedom Advocates, Inc.
Grassroots non-profit led by psychiatric survivors, advancing leadership, education and advocacy to end marginalization by sanism. PO Box 143, Waterbury Center, VT 05677 (844) 253-1163 madfreedomadvocates.org
Pathways Vermont Support Line
Peer-run, 24/7, statewide “warm line” for confidential, non-judgmental support and connection for adults 18 and over. Call or text (833) 8882557 / (833) VT-TALKS bit.ly/45WoUJq
Peer Workforce Development Initiative (PWDI)
Offers resources to mental health peer support providers, including training and statewide networking bit.ly/4e1ceD8
Rosewood Cottage
A free, voluntary, short-term, overnight program operated by Pathways Vermont provides community-based emotional support and crisis relief in a home-like environment in Burlington, VT. For more info, call (888) 492-8218 ext. 9.
Soteria
Operated by Pathways Vermont and located in Burlington, Soteria House offers a safe, non-restrictive alternative to hospitalization for individuals experiencing an initial episode of psychosis who wish to minimize their exposure to medications. (888) 492-8218 x405 bit.ly/3HK3024
Wildflower Alliance
Grassroots, peer support, advocacy, and training organization with a focus on harm reduction and human rights. Operates peer respite and community centers in western Massachusetts. 187 High St, Ste 202, Holyoke, MA (413) 539-5941
State Program Standing Committees advise the Vermont Department of Mental Health and offer a way for individuals with lived experience to shape policy, oversight, and accountability. Members are often individuals with lived experience, family members, and/or mental health professionals. Anyone can attend meetings, which are posted online.
Adult Program Standing Committee
Advises the Commissioner of Mental Health on the adult mental health system. The committee is the official body for review of and recommendations for redesignation of community mental health programs (designated agencies) and monitors other aspects of the system. Meets monthly on 2nd Monday, Noon-3 p.m. Check DMH website www.mentalhealth.vermont.gov or call-in number (802) 241-0090. bit.ly/4l1y4Zs
Emergency Involuntary Procedures Committee
Reviews emergency involuntary procedures used on individuals held involuntarily in inpatient psychiatric hospitals. Meets every three months (next meeting in September 2025.) bit.ly/4lcTJ18
Advocacy Organizations
These organizations defend rights and investigate violations. Some offer direct legal or advocacy support, especially around involuntary hospitalization, abuse, or denial of services.
Disability Rights Vermont
Advocacy in dealing with abuse, neglect or other rights violations by a hospital, care home, or community mental health agency. 141 Main St, Suite 7, Montpelier VT 05602 (800) 834-7890. disabilityrightsvt.org
Vermont Center For Independent Living Peer services and advocacy for persons with disabilities. (800) 639-1522 vcil.org
Health Care Advocate
To report problems with any health insurance or Medicaid/ Medicare issues in Vermont (800) 917-7787 or (802) 241-1102 vtlawhelp.org/health
Mental Health Law Project Free attorney support when
facing involuntary medication or commitment to a psychiatric hospital (800) 265-0660
Adult Protective Services
Investigates reports of abuse, neglect or exploitation of vulnerable adults. To make a report call (800) 564-1612; or make a report online at bit.ly/45VyU5E
To report violations at hospitals/nursing homes call (888) 700-5330 or email AHS. DAILSCIntake@vermont.gov.
Report forms found at https://bit.ly/4e52PdF
PAIMI Advisory Council
Comprised primarily of individuals with lived experience, the Council advises Disability Rights Vermont on the policies and priorities needed to protect and advocate for the rights of individuals with mental health needs. The Council is currently seeking applicants for open seats. disabilityrightsvt.org/ about/paimi-council/
Hospital Advisory
Many hospitals have advisory committees that include individuals with lived experience. These committees advise hospital leadership, review practices, and offer community feedback. Meetings are open to the public, and joining them is one way to influence how institutions operate.
Vermont Psychiatric Care
Hospital Advisory Committee
Meets monthly at VPCH. Committee members are appointed by the Commissioner and serve on a voluntary basis. Advisory Committee meetings are open to members of the public. For more information: bit.ly/45lt39F
Rutland Regional Medical Center Community Advisory Committee
Meets fourth Mondays at noon. For more information: call 802-7476295 or email lcathcart@rrmc.org
University
of Vermont Medical Center Program Quality Committee
Meets third Tuesdays, 9-10 a.m. For more information: call 802-847-2124 or email melissa. baker@uvmhealth.org.
Brattleboro Retreat Consumer Advisory Council
Meets fourth Tuesdays, 12-1:00 p.m., contact Director of Patient Advocacy and Consumer Affairs at 802-2586118 for meeting information.
Community Centers
These peer-led spaces offer drop-in support, social connection, housing and employment guidance, and alternatives to clinical mental health services. Some specialize in serving people who don’t access traditional systems. Check websites or call ahead to confirm hours and offerings.
Another Way Community Center
Offers voluntary, peer-run alternatives for people who avoid conventional mental health services. 125 Barre St., Montpelier 05601 (802) 229-0920 info@anotherwayvt.org anotherwayvt.org
Pathways Vermont Community Center
Community center offering virtual peer support groups, one-on-one peer support, and drop-in hours at temporary locations until a new, permanent location is secured. (802) 777-8691 pvcc@pathwaysvermont.org bit.ly/4jPzncY
Hospital Diversion
These programs provide voluntary, community-based alternatives to emergency rooms and psychiatric hospitalization. Staff are often individuals with lived experience, and support is grounded in choice, compassion, and trauma-informed care. The programs are operated by local, designated agencies
Interlude (CSAC)
Voluntary home-like, trauma-sensitive space in Addison County that includes a living room, kitchen, bathroom, private comfort relaxation room, and a space for music, movement and more. 99 Maple St., #16, Middlebury, VT 05753 (802) 458-8219
bit.ly/3FWQNqj
The Access Hub (WCMH)
The Access Hub offers peer counseling, mental health care, nursing care, and referrals. The team provides support, assessment, brief treatment, safety planning, and connection to additional services. 34 Barre St, Montpelier, VT 05601 Downing St entrance (802) 301-3200
theaccesshub@wcmhs.org bit.ly/3ZVgqPd
Mental Health Urgent Care (Howard Center)
A partnership with the University of Vermont Medical Center, Community Health Centers, Pathways Vermont, and the Vermont Department of Mental Health. 1 South Prospect St, Burlington, VT 05401 (802) 488-6482 howardcenter.org/mhuc/
Front Porch Mental Health
Urgent Care (NKHS)
Serves adults and families experiencing a mental health situation and seeking immediate care. 24/7 peer support.
235 Lakemont Road, Newport City, VT 05855 (802) 624-4016 bit.ly/4jVSCSr
Employment Support
These programs help people with disabilities or mental health histories find and keep jobs. Services include career counseling, job placement, and support with accommodations. Call the statewide line to get connected with your regional office.
Hireability
Network of employment and job skills specialists, and counselors dedicated to breaking down the barriers that have traditionally kept good jobs out of reach of Vermonters with disabilities.
Locations in: Barre-Montpelier, Bennington, Brattleboro, Burlington, Middlebury, Morrisville, Newport, Rutland, Springfield, St. Albans, St. Johnsbury, White River Junction (866) 879-6757 hireabilityvt.com
Homelessness and Housing Support
These programs assist people experiencing homelessness or housing instability. Some offer emergency shelter, while others focus on long-term support or advocacy. Start with 211 or the listed contacts in your county.
2-1-1
Looking for a safe place to sleep tonight? Call 2-1-1 to find a shelter near you. Text ‘ZIPCODE’ to 898211 vermont211.org
Lead Agencies
Looking to get or keep housing? Contact the lead agency in your area to get connected Contact numbers available online: bit.ly/4jVfBgl Champlain Valley Office of Economic Activity (CVOEO) If you are homeless or at risk of homelessness, CVOEO provides housing advocacy, stabilization funding, and housing navigation/ case management; start emergency shelter intake with VT Economic Services at 1-800-479-6151 (or dial 2-1-1 after hours), or email hsrs-referrals@cvoeo.org.
Community Outreach & Resource Advocacy (CORA)
Field-based outreach team supporting individuals experiencing homelessness in Burlington area by connecting to case management, helping to access warm shelter, brings foods and eessential items directly to individuals, and offers on-the-spot mental health support. Also operates a mobile outreach unit equipped with laptops for applying for benefits, phone charging, and other basics, so services can be accessed in the field. Contact Brenna Bedard, Outreach Coordinator: (802) 318-6222 bbedard@cvoeo.org cvoeo.org/cora
Groundworks Collaborative (Brattleboro)
Provides essential support to individuals and families experiencing homelessness, food insecurity, and related challenges. Services include food shelf; year-round shelter; drop-in and overnight shelter; housing case management and financial management to prevent homelessness; on-site healthcare and mental health services, including harm reduction and recovery support, and advocacy and systemic change initiatives to address homelessness and food insecurity
54 S Main St, Brattleboro, VT 05301 (802) 257-5415 or (802) 302-8300 (front desk) groundworksvt.org/
Homelessness Prevention Center (Rutland)
If you live in Rutland County, are homeless, and need emergency shelter call: Weekdays between 8 and4: (800) 479-6151
After-hours and Weekends: 211 Office: (802) 775-9286 hpcvt.org
Springfield Supported Housing Program
56 Main St. Suite 209B Springfield, VT 05156 (802) 885-3034 info@sshpvt.org sshpvt.org
Recovery Centers
These centers support individuals navigating substance use recovery. Many are peer-run and offer support groups, harm reduction tools, wellness activities, and one-on-one support.
Barre
Turning Point Center of Central Vermont 17 Ayers St, Barre, VT 05641 (802) 622-0251 tpccvbarre@gmail.com tpccv.org
Bennington
Turning Point Recovery Center of Bennington 160 Belmont Ave., 4th Flr (802) 442-9700 info@tpcbennington.org tpcbennington.org
Brattleboro Turning Point Center of Windham County 39 Elm St. (802) 257-5600 admin@turningpointwc.org turningpointwc.org
Burlington Turning Point Center of Chittenden County 179 South Winooski Ave., Ste 301 (802) 861-3150 turningpointcentervt.org
Middlebury Turning Point Center of Addison County 79 Court St. (802) 388-4249 info@tpvt.org turningpointaddisonvt.org
Morrisville North Central Vermont Recovery Center 275 Brooklyn St. (802) 851-8120 recovery@ncvrc.com ncvrc.com
Newport Journey to Recovery Center 212 Prouty Dr. Suite 3 (802) 624-4156 lbennett@jtr-cc.org jtr-cc.org
St. Albans
Turning Point of Franklin County 182 Lake St PO Box 1187 (802) 782-8454 contact@ turningpointfranklincounty.org turningpointfranklincounty.org
St. Johnsbury Kingdom Recovery Center 297 Summer St. (802) 751-8520 recoveryinfo@krcstj.org krcstj.org
Support Groups
Support groups create space for shared experience, connection, and healing. Groups here include those for families, brain injury survivors, LGBTQ+ communities, and others.
Vermont Federation of Families for Children’s Mental Health Statewide support for families of children, youth or young adults in transition who are experiencing or at risk to experience emotional, behavioral or mental health challenges. (800) 639-6071, (802) 876-7021 vffcmh.org
Pride Center of Vermont Community events, affinity spaces, recovery groups, support groups, sexual health resources, and an anti-violence hotline for LGBTQ+ individuals. (802) 860-7812 info@pridecentervt.org pridecentervt.org
Brain Injury Association 802-244-6850 support@biavt.org biavt.org/support/support-groups/
“It’s Complicated” Support Group
A non-clinical group based on the Dating with a Diagnosis 2021 project. Tuesdays at 5 PM ET, via Zoom Zoom link: https://bit.ly/41GCkWY Zoom meeting ID# 867 2201 5742 Passcode: Brockton
Call-in Number: (929) 205-6099; Enter ID Number: 867 2201 5742 # #/passcode: 70005476
Talk Lines
These lines offer immediate emotional support—many from trained individuals with lived experience. Some specialize in LGBTQ+ or youth crisis support. Text, call, or chat online to connect.
Crisis Text Line
Around the clock support via text; text ‘HOME’ to 741741 or visit to www.crisistextline. org to chat online.
LGBTQ HOTLINE
LGBTQ peer support hotline: (888) 843-4564
chatline: https://lgbthotline.org/
Trans Crisis Hotline
Trans peer support. No nonconsensual active rescue, e.g., calling 911, emergency services, or law enforcement. (877) 565-8860 translifeline.org
LGBTQ Youth Crisis Hotline
The Trevor Project Call 866-488-7386; text ‘START’ to 678-678; or chat online at trevorproject.org/get-help/
Domestic Violence Hotline (800) 228-7395
Sexual Violence Hotline (800) 489-7273
Veterans’ Services
Veterans in Vermont can access peer support, housing, medical care, and crisis services through these listings. Many locations have specialized mental health and transitional housing services. Contact the office closest to you.
Rutland
Open Door Mission
31 Park St., Rutland, VT 05701 (802) 775-5661
Transitional Residence: Dodge House 95 Crescent St. (802) 775-6772
Burlington Committee on Temporary Shelter (COTS), day station, emergency shelter, transitional and permanent housing, and housing navigation 95 North Ave. (802) 864-7402
Vermont Veteran Assistance Fund
Office of Veterans Affairs
Toll Free (In State): (888) 666-9844, Direct Dial: (802) 828-3379
Free Transportation to Appointments
Medicaid covered rides: (833) 387-7200 vpta.net
Department of Vermont Disabled American Veterans, (866) 687-8387 X5394
Veterans Administration Mental Health Services
VA Hospital
White River Junction Medical Center 163 Veterans Drive, WRJ (866) 687-8387 or (802) 295-9363,
We do our best to keep the Resource Guide up to date, but information changes quickly. If you know of a resource we should add—or if you spot any errors—please let us know by emailing info@themadvocate.org.
Family & Youth Services
These organizations support children, youth, and families in crisis or transition. Programs include housing, mental health support, family advocacy, and restorative justice. Many centers serve specific counties; contact them for eligibility and intake.
Interaction: Youth Services and Restorative Justice
28 Vernon St. #210 PO Box 6008 Brattleboro 05302-6008 (802) 257-0361
Northeast Kingdom Community Action Newport: 70 Main Street Newport, VT 05855 St. Johnsbury:
90 Prospect Street St. Johnsbury, VT 05819 (855) 663-5224
info@nekcavt.org nekcavt.org
The Mentor Connector 110 Merchants Row Suite 210 Rutland, VT 05701 (802) 775-3434
hello@mentorconnector.com mentorconnector.com
Community Organizing
These groups fight for justice, liberation, and collective survival. They focus on racial, economic, disability, and gender justice, as well as food sovereignty and international solidarity. FreeHer VT National: freehercampaign.org/ Local: linktr.ee/freehervt
Vermont Coalition for Palestinian Liberation vermontcpl.org
Green Mountain Democratic Socialists of America greenmountaindsa.org
MadFreedom Advocates madfreedomadvocates.org
Cooperation Vermont cooperationvermont.org
350 Vermont 350vermont.org
Jewish Voice for PeaceVermont/New Hampshire jvp-vtnh.org
Lost River Racial Justice lostriverracialjustice.org
The Root Social Justice Center therootsjc.org
Party for Socialism and Liberation pslweb.org
Southern Vermont for Palestine sovt4palestine.org
Upper Valley for Palestine uv4pal.com
Vermonters for Justice in Palestine vtjp.org
National Lawyers GuildVermont Law School nlgvermontlaw.weebly.com
Peace & Justice Center pjcvt.org
Education Justice Coalition of Vermont edjcoalitionvt.org
Rights & Democracy Movement radmovement.org
Food Not Bombs, Burlington facebook.com/ FoodNotBombsBurlington People’s Kitchen VT facebook.com/peopleskitchenvt
A recovery community offering recovery housing, wraparound supports, and health and wellness classes, designed primarily for adults seeking recovery from substance use. Workforce development and recovery-friendly jobs are available through Jenna’s Promise Roasting Co. and JP’s Promising Goods (discount store). 117 St. Johns Road, Johnson, VT 05656 (802) 343-8741 info@jennaspromise.org jennaspromise.org
Connections Peer Support Groups (NAMI-VT)
Meetings are led by trained peer support leaders. Groups are intended to provide a safe place that offers respect, understanding, encouragement, and inspiration. Zoom and In-Person Meetings. For more info, visit: nami-vt.org
Inner Fire
Proactive healing community offering a choice for adults to recover from debilitating and traumatic life challenges with minimal use of mindaltering, psychotropic medications. Grace Brook Farm 26 Parker Road, Brookline, VT 05345 (802) 221-8051
InnerFire.us
All Brains Belong
All Brains Belong VT® is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) community health organization located in Montpelier, Vermont. Its mission is to make life better for people with all types of brains through neurodiversityaffirming medical care, social connection, employment support, and neurodiversity education. 3 Pitkin Ct, Ste 102, Montpelier 05602 AllBrainsBelong.org
Tara Miller: From Center Stage to System Change
By The Madvocate
Fresh out of college with a theater degree, Tara Miller landed a coveted gig at Ellen’s Stardust Diner—the iconic New York City eatery where servers sing Broadway hits between Diet Coke refills. “I graduated in May, moved to New York in June. I was just a wild child,” she recalled in an interview with The Madvocate. “I was out until four o’clock in the morning, going to bars with friends, dancing. I’d go to bed at 4 AM, wake up at nine, go to work, and do the whole thing over again.”
That same bold energy—equal parts grit and grace—has carried her through the many twists and turns of her life. Today, at 49, Miller lives in Morrisville, Vermont, and works as a Crisis Training and Curriculum Development Specialist for the Department of Mental Health. She designs statewide trainings for mobile crisis teams and 988 call centers, drawing on deep expertise as a Certified Peer Specialist, a Certified Psychiatric Rehabilitation Practitioner, and a published writer with a graduate degree in counseling psychology. She also lives openly with schizoaffective disorder—a diagnosis she ultimately identified herself, after nearly a decade of misdiagnoses that included depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, and bipolar disorder.
But Miller’s story isn’t one of simply surviving or improving with treatment. It’s about reclaiming her life, refusing to disappear, and living not in spite of a diagnosis, but fully and fiercely alongside it.
Her first encounter with what psychiatry would label “symptoms” came when she was a junior in college. “I was 19 years old and starting to have delusions. They made me very depressed and
withdrawn, and I didn’t know what was happening.” A family doctor labeled it anxiety and prescribed Zoloft, which kept her awake for an entire week. Counseling at Penn State offered little relief.
“They had grad students running random tests on me,” she said. She dropped out of therapy but somehow made it to graduation.
After about a year and a half in New York, Miller realized theater wasn’t her path, but she wasn’t yet sure what was. “But I knew New York was an expensive place to figure that out.” She moved back to Pennsylvania, then set off on crosscountry travels with friends, followed by solo backpacking across Europe.
“Every city I went to—London, Paris, Dublin, Amsterdam—I had to go to church. I was convinced I was getting messages from God.”
She returned to Pennsylvania to prepare for a permanent move abroad with a man she believed to be “the love of her life.”
When he told her he wanted nothing to do with her, the voices began.
Security. You don’t have to worry about working.’” By age 25, she was living on disability and taking 23 pills a day. “I went to Sharper Image and got this electronic pill dispenser. And I thought, this is so cool. I could have my 23 pills dispensed to me every day.”
Even then, she held on to one goal: “I have to go back to work.” Two years after that first hospitalization, she did—first part-time in a geriatric psychiatric hospital, then full-time helping move adults out of the state hospital and into the community.
As the delusions subsided and her thoughts became clearer, Miller says she found her calling. “I have to give back. I have to fix this broken system. Nobody should have to suffer like I have suffered.”
To move forward in the field, she
“They were saying, ‘If you hurt yourself, all this pain will go away.’” One day, her mother found her in the living room, slicing her ankles with an X-Acto knife. “She said, ‘We’re going to the hospital.’ So I went for the first time. And it was miserable. That’s when the psychosis really started, after they put me on Wellbutrin.”
That hospitalization was the first of many. “They told me, ‘You’re probably going to be dealing with this for the rest of your life. We’ll get you on Social
SPOT – Tara Miller
knew she needed a master’s degree. Using savings from the Ticket to Work program, she enrolled in graduate school in San Francisco. “I picked the grad school farthest away that I could possibly imagine.”
An only child, Miller describes her childhood as idyllic, rooted in the kind of love that gave her the courage to chase distance, not run from it. “My parents told me to follow my dreams,” she said.
But when that program shut down, Miller relocated to Seattle,
completed her degree in counseling psychology, and eventually returned to Pennsylvania in 2010. Around that time, a psychiatrist—running out of options—prescribed Haldol.
“It changed my life,” she said. “It was the first time I took something that gave me clarity. The voices stopped. The thoughts stopped. I still take it to this day.”
That same year, another psychiatrist finally validated the diagnosis Miller had long suspected. “I basically diagnosed myself,” she said. “I told him I didn’t believe I had bipolar disorder or a personality disorder. I said, ‘It’s a thought disorder. If I could get the thoughts under control, I wouldn’t be so depressed.’ And he said, ‘I believe you.’ That changed everything.”
By 2011, Miller was working at the Penn Foundation as a Recovery Coaching Team Leader when the agency began integrating peer support. She disclosed her diagnosis to her supervisor, who responded with enthusiasm: “How amazing would it be to have a supervisor who is also a Certified Peer Specialist?” Miller enrolled in the course. “I was almost as excited to get that Certified Peer Specialist credential as I was to get my master’s. It meant the world to me.”
Coming out as a person with a psychiatric diagnosis, she said, was deeply freeing. “Up until then, I had never really shared that I had mental health problems. I was always very closeted … But something shifted. It became, you know, this is a gift.” The training, she says, changed the way she thought about the system—and herself.
She had already come out as queer a year earlier. “I was 31,” she said. “When I came out as queer… I was like, ‘This is something that’s in me that I can’t deny anymore.’” That same sense of truth-telling helped her later speak openly about her mental health at work. She’s been out ever since. At work. In public. On paper.
Miller went on to hold state-level roles in peer services, including at NYAPRS, before returning to Pennsylvania. In 2016, after a
As moving as Anne Moss Rogers’ keynote may have been, as psychiatric survivors we are deeply familiar with the harm that can come when others speak for us— especially after we are no longer here to speak for ourselves. Charles did not tell his story publicly. What we heard was his mother’s story: her grief, her hindsight, her search for meaning. As valid and real as that is, it’s not the same as hearing from Charles himself.
The keynote exposes the fine line between honoring a loved one’s life and unintentionally framing their experience through the lens of pathology, tragedy, or moral failure. While Rogers emphasized the importance of reducing stigma and creating connection, she also described cannabis as causing “serious and permanent brain damage,” and attributed Charles’s drug use to mood management and suicidality—explanations that felt
too simple or misleading to some people with lived experience.
What was perhaps most powerful—and most painful— was the absence. Charles’s voice, his understanding of his own distress, and his choices were filtered through someone else’s perspective. For those of us whose stories have been told about us rather than with us, this keynote brought up a familiar feeling: being observed but not heard.
Adding to the unease, attendees received a copy of Diary of a Broken Mind: A Mother’s Story, A Son’s Suicide and the Haunting Lyrics He Left Behind , credited to Anne Moss Rogers with Charles Rogers. The use of Charles’s lyrics without his consent, and the posthumous coauthorship, reinforces the troubling dynamic of co-opting the voices of those who have been psychiatrized. Framing his pain as the product of a "broken mind" further
pathologizes his humanity while removing him from the conversation about his own life and death.
This is not the first time the Department of Mental Health has featured a keynote speaker who purported to tell the story of a loved one. John Broderick, a former New Hampshire Supreme Court associate justice, delivered the keynote at DMH’s 2019 conference.
Broderick became a mental health advocate after his 30-year-old son beat him beyond recognition in 2002 while the judge was asleep. In his keynote, Broderick attributed his son’s action to mental illness.
The Madvocate challenges the Department of Mental Health to think more deeply about narrative ownership and the ethics of storytelling. Whose voices are uplifted in public conversations about mental health and suicide? Who is allowed to speak, and who gets spoken for?
For psychiatric survivors, these questions are not abstract. They shape how we are seen, how we are treated, and whether our own truths are allowed to stand.
It's important for DMH and others to understand that honoring someone’s life means making space for the parts of their story we may never fully understand. And that’s okay.
“For those of us whose stories have been told about us rather than with us, this keynote brought up a familiar feeling: being observed but not heard.”
DMH Conference Keynote Raises Questions About Whose Story Gets Told When the Law Denies Our Truth: The Supreme Court’s Betrayal of Trans Youth
On June 18, the U.S. Supreme Court reminded us that injustice in America doesn’t always come with force —it often speaks in legal terms and calls itself reason. In a 6–3 decision in United States v. Skrmetti, the Court upheld Tennessee’s ban on gender-affirming care for minors. The ruling strips young people of life-saving medical options and sends a dangerous message: your identity doesn’t deserve equal protection.
We’ve heard this kind of logic before. That segregation wasn’t about race. That denying women credit cards in their own names wasn’t about sex. That locking up mad people “for their own good” wasn’t about coercion and control. Now, the Court insists that Tennessee’s law doesn’t discriminate because it bans gender-affirming treatments for all minors—not just trans ones. But let’s be clear: when you outlaw care only trans kids need, you’ve made your target obvious.
The Tennessee law doesn’t stop puberty blockers for kids with socalled precocious puberty. It doesn’t
ban testosterone for boys with hormonal imbalances. It only blocks those treatments when a child says, “This body doesn’t match who I am.” That’s not a neutral policy. That’s moral panic turned into law.
The Court calls this rational. We call it rationalized cruelty.
For psychiatric survivors, this ruling is achingly familiar. The Court upheld a law that singles out gender dysphoria—just as psychiatric diagnoses have long been used to justify restricting the rights of people deemed “mentally ill.” In both cases, the state defines certain ways of being as inherently suspect and uses that definition to justify withholding autonomy, care, and dignity. This decision treats being trans not as a protected identity but as a condition to be managed—or avoided—by law. That is the essence of pathologization: using a medical label to rationalize state control. Once again, so-called experts and lawmakers have joined forces to define safety in a way that excludes the very people they claim to protect.
The justices say this isn’t their job
to judge the wisdom of the law. But judge they did. They judged that the state has more authority over a trans child’s body than the child does. They judged that fear and political backlash matter more than lived experience or medical need. This ruling doesn’t just hurt trans youth in Tennessee. It green-lights copycat laws nationwide. It tells states they can mask discrimination as medical caution. It tells parents that their love isn’t enough. That no matter how loving, informed or committed a parent may be, the government has the final say over their child’s body and future. It tells children they’re problems to solve, not people to support.
We condemn this decision and all efforts to deny people the right to live, grow, and become themselves. Our bodies are not battlegrounds. Our identities are not diagnoses. And our rights are not up for debate. The struggle for liberation won’t be won in the courts. But it will be fought—by us, for each other, with the full force of our voices, our stories, and our collective will.
Thank you for Being Here
By Skylar Maguire, Addison County VT
COMMENTARY
I want to live in a world that wants me to live in it too. Instead, I’m surviving in a world that would prefer that I did not exist. I’m talking about being a trans person in the United States in 2025, where the cultural dialogue has shifted so violently against us.
Genital obsessed transphobes are spewing hate online and in-person, whether as news pundits, politicians, podcasters, or school board members. They get off on preaching biological essentialism pseudoscience with a level of cruelty that blatantly ignores the complex, scientific realities of sex and gender. They make false claims about trans people as damaged, confused, or simply not real and the ramifications of this are profound.
Gender affirming care has never been more at risk for both adults and minors. Facism, peddled by Project 2025, Christian White Nationalism, and patriarchal “family values,” seeks to eradicate trans existence, often while using the guise of (cis) women’s rights— as they take those away too.When one group of people is unsafe, no one is safe.
Meanwhile, basic needs like healthcare, food, housing, and connection with other people are only getting harder to attain.
I’m writing to you as a stranger, soon to be comrade, to check-in after a tumultuous few weeks. I want you to keep breathing and stay with me, as I return to my body and invite you to return to yours too.
It’s not a comfortable experience to be in my body right now. For me, my wrists are inflamed from typing on a laptop, and my back is in knots from lying in bed for hours. My shoulders sit higher than they used to, as if being grabbed from above. My heart beats louder after I check the news for the fifth time today. I’m hungry but cannot eat now. I am a body under duress, and we all are, to different degrees. In a way, my trauma history equipped me for times like these, for surviving the unsurvivable, and yet this is no way to live. My depression, always present, gnaws at me, coating my system with a numbness interrupted only by the brief reprieve of suicidal ideation. With the gut punch of endless Executive Orders and a clear dismantling of democracy, is it even realistic or authentic to try and be emotionally regulated, in this sea of dysregulation
and ongoing trauma? I had been working on coping skills and identifying core beliefs, so that I could start EMDR with my therapist, but ever since the election, I can feel myself slipping. How do we hold ourselves, and soothe ourselves, in a crisis of this many layers, both personal and political? I do not have the answers. Neither do therapists, who are embedded in a system not designed for this moment. They face barriers and constraints on providing the kind of help that many of them wish they could.
The reality is: revolutionary acts of care that we yearn for might not exist yet. We are all experiencing a thousand cuts in the fabric of our lives. So we must dream up, create, and make new systems, while also radically resting, tending to our wounds, and learning from the past and those that have come before.
We must turn to each other, and listen intently to those for whom the burden of oppression is beyond our own lived experience. We must take inventory of our needs and privileges, and fight fiercely and unwaveringly for those most impacted, such as trans people of color, undocumented people, and people with disabilities.
If you do not already have a practice of masking in public with a KN95 or
Skylar moves through the world as a white, trans masculine person living with chronic illness, and the duality of both receiving care and providing it whether as a peer specialist, social worker, or current role as a clinical medical assistant.
N95, this a vital first step to protect the most marginalized in our communities from rampant viral illnesses and the mass disabling effects of Long COVID, especially on bodies already strained by oppression and trauma.
As we take steps to move us closer to the world we all deserve, we will make mistakes and fall short.
We will learn and grow.
Remember to let the Earth cradle you as it spins, catch your breath, and hug often. Whatever steps you take next— whether nourishing yourself, drinking water, sharing a community meal, starting a mutual aid group, befriending a neighbor, or stocking up on supplies and life-saving medications, our survival is a form of resistance. Together, we can build a world where loudest voices are not the most hateful ones, and where trans joy can thrive without fear. Thank you for being here.
SHARE YOUR VOICE - The Madvocate is a chorus of survivor wisdom, and we want to hear from you. Send your letters – responses to our stories, new ideas or sparks of disagreement – to info@TheMadvocate.org. Include your name (or pen name) and where you’re writing from, and keep it to about 250 words if you can. We reserve the right to edit for clarity and space, but we’ll always preserve the heart of your message. Speak up! Your perspective shapes our movement.
Photo courtesy of Skylar
Honoring Scott Garvey–Honoring Ourselves
By The Madvocate
Scott Garvey was a 55-year-old poet, drummer, and giver whose life was cut short when Vermont State Police bullets answered his call for help on July 7, 2025. He was unarmed. He was loved. And he mattered—immensely.
This tribute gathers three voices that speak to Scott’s humanity and to the urgent truth his death lays bare: every one of us—especially those labeled “mentally ill”—carries immeasurable worth that must be seen, safeguarded, and celebrated. First, the founding directors of MadFreedom Advocates demand accountability and remind us that failing to meet suffering with compassion is a moral failure that endangers us all.
Next, San Francisco Supervisor Matt Dorsey—a childhood friend—paints a portrait of Scott’s boundless empathy and calls us to carry that spirit of justice into public life. Finally, the Wildflower Alliance, a grassroots, peer support, advocacy, and training organization in western Massachusetts, places Scott’s killing in the wider pattern of fatal police responses to people in crisis and challenges us to build real alternatives rooted in care, not coercion.
We publish these pieces not only to mourn but also to insist that the lives of psychiatric survivors are precious, and our stories deserve the front page. May Scott’s memory move Vermonters to recognize that our communities thrive when every voice is valued and every life is protected.
Scott Garvey Did Not Need to Die
Statement released by the founding directors of MadFreedom Advocates, July 10, 2025
MadFreedom Advocates grieves the killing of Scott Garvey, a 55-year-old unarmed man experiencing an apparent mental health crisis, who was shot and killed in his own home by Vermont State Police on July 7, 2025. According to official reports, Mr. Garvey had barricaded himself inside his apartment and was making statements of self-harm. Law enforcement responded to the scene with an embedded mental health caseworker. Yet instead of continuing efforts to engage Mr. Garvey safely, the Vermont State Police obtained a warrant to forcibly enter his home. They reported seeing an object in his hand that they believed was a firearm. It was not. No weapons were found in the apartment. Mr. Garvey was shot multiple times and died from gunshot wounds to his torso and leg.
We are outraged that this preventable death occurred despite the presence of a mental health professional on the scene, despite years of statewide policy development, and despite a widely publicized prior tragedy—the 2016 killing of Phil Grenon in circumstances that bear a chilling resemblance to this case.
In the wake of Mr. Grenon’s death, the Vermont Mental Health Crisis Response Commission released an urgent set of recommendations aimed at preventing any future fatal encounters between law enforcement officers and individuals in emotional distress. The state also adopted a comprehensive Statewide Use of Force Policy that includes specific guidelines for interacting with
persons experiencing a mental health crisis. Taken together, the commission’s report and the policy set out the following directives:
• Avoid forced entry unless there is an imminent threat to others;
• Use time, space, and containment to avoid confrontation;
• Allow embedded mental health professionals to lead crisis responses;
• Engage natural supports or known contacts to deescalate the situation;
• Center the sanctity of life in every tactical decision.
These directives were not followed. Instead, police chose force over time, confrontation over compassion, and escalation over care. That is not just a policy failure. It is a moral failure.
It is a moral failure to meet suffering with violence.
It is a moral failure to treat disability as dangerousness.
It is a moral failure to ignore the lessons of past tragedies and repeat them, with fatal consequences.
When the state responds to a call for help by delivering bullets instead of support, it tells the public— especially those with mental health challenges—that their lives are disposable. That their crises will be met not with understanding, but with guns drawn. That no amount of training, no number of task forces, no list of reforms can ultimately guarantee their safety—even in their own homes.
Mr. Garvey did not need to die. He needed time. He needed care. He needed someone to see his humanity.
We call on the Vermont Attorney General’s Office and the Windham County State’s Attorney to conduct a transparent and public investigation into Mr. Garvey’s
Scan the QR Code with your smart phone to read Scott Garvey’s Obituary
death. We demand immediate release of all body-worn camera footage. We call on state officials to explain why Vermont’s Statewide Use of Force Policy—which strictly limits deadly force and emphasizes de-escalation in mental health encounters—was not followed.
If Vermont is to uphold the dignity and rights of all people, especially
those in a mental health crisis, we must do more than update policies. We must honor the lives lost by refusing to normalize their deaths. Until we choose compassion over coercion, and care over control, these tragedies will continue. We must choose differently.
Mr. Garvey deserved better. We all do.
Photo courtesy of the Garvey family
Supervisor Dorsey Pays Tribute to Scott Garvey
Remarks delivered by San Francisco Supervisor Matt Dorsey at the Board of Supervisors meeting, July 29, 2025.
And next colleagues, I ask that we adjourn today's meeting in remembrance of Scott Garvey, a deeply compassionate, creative and loving soul whose tragic recent death has left his family and many others reeling, including friends and loved ones here in San Francisco.
I grew up as a close friend of the Garveys and ... I've known them well most of my life. Scott attended St Mary's Catholic school in Westfield, Massachusetts with his older brother and me, and it was perhaps there that Scott developed his commitment to social justice, which in his life would
become his most admired trait.
Scott was a poet, a musician, and above all, a giver; someone who carried the burden of an outsized heart in a world that too often shuns those who struggle. Although he faced mental health challenges most of his adult life, having been diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, Scott's generous spirit and his good heart were undiminished. He found purpose in offering comfort and care to others in need, and he would often use whatever discretionary funds he had from his limited disability income to help others, to buy clean socks or warm gloves or meals to share with unhoused neighbors. For Scott, it wasn't performative. It was who he was. His impulse to help and to give back just came naturally to him.
To family members and friends, Scott's empathy was radiant. Friends described him as soft spoken and poetic, someone who listened more than he spoke, and who had the rare gift of making others feel truly seen. His art, especially his poetry and his drumming, was an extension of his emotional generosity. Like many
artists, he could find meaning in pain and create beauty out of struggle.
San Francisco held a very special place in Scott's heart for a time. Many years ago, he lived in our city's storied Haight Ashbury neighborhood, which was especially meaningful to him as a talented musician himself.
When he moved to Vermont earlier this year, along with his mother, Judy, or Mama J, as she's affectionately known, he wanted to be closer to his sister Kara. It was with the hope of accessing better care in the region where he grew up so that he could continue on his path of healing.
Sadly, he scarcely had the chance. Earlier this month, in the midst of a mental health crisis, Scott lost his life when he was shot in an encounter with a Vermont State Police Trooper. Unarmed at the time, his family is now left to grapple with unimaginable grief. They are ... haunted by knowledge of compassion and grace that Scott wasn't extended in his last moments when he needed it most. They're also humbled by the love and kindness
of friends and family members, even neighbors and strangers in the community in Putney, Vermont, who've been moved to help the Garvey family and to heal.
In remembering Scott today, his family asks that we do not solely mourn, but also take it as a call to conscience and that we carry Scott's spirit of social justice in how we lead, in the policies we pass, and how we care for our own most vulnerable, and how we encounter those in behavioral crises and in the hopes we hold for a better world.
Rest in peace, Scott. May your memory be a blessing and a reminder of what we need to change.
Scan the QR code with your phone to watch San Francisco Supervisor Matt Dorsey’s full video tribute to Scott Garvey.
Mourning Scott Garvey, Another Life Lost to Police Violence
Scott Garvey was a part of the Wildflower community for years before moving away to gain some distance between himself and some of the hard experiences he'd had in the local mental health system.
He and his mother spent some time in Tennesse after leaving the area, but then moved to Vermont at the very end of the first week of July. Only a few days later, on July 7, 2025, Scott was murdered in his own apartment by a police officer who claimed he thought Scott had a gun. No guns were found on the premises.
Scott was a talented musician and generous man who was constantly using the little money he had to give to others who needed help. He was well loved and valued by his family and the multiple communities that he'd touched over the years, as demonstrated by a gathering for a vigil on July 14 in Putney Vermont and generous community support for the family's GoFundMe. Those who knew him remain in shock.
Scott's death at the hands of the police - called to the scene because he was believed to be in crisis - is one of too many deaths at the hands of people in roles we're told are meant to "help", "protect" and "serve". Only four days later on Friday, July 11, in Haverhill, Massachusetts Francis Gigliotti was
murdered by police who were called in for a "wellness check". He died after police had him restrained face down and were sitting on him, one reportedly with his knee on Francis's neck. His family is also pushing for answers and accountability.
And in the face of all that, many of us are left wondering why nothing has changed and why more people aren't outraged about it. The alternatives to policing programs that exist are rarely funded or implemented properly, often with insurmountable barriers placed in their way. Rarely - if ever - have they been given all the pieces needed to properly pilot a program of this nature. Meanwhile, people keep touting 'CIT' trainings for the police that show little to no actual positive change when it comes to use of force or related injuries. Where do we go from here? Creating real alternatives would mean committing to multi-year (at least five years) pilot funding to give programs a chance to get on their feet and figure things out along with enough dollars to develop a full team that is well led and trained and has the capacity to both support people out in the community and at an established 24/7 site. Funders would need to support a hiring process that recruits non-clinical leadership deeply
invested in anti-force approaches rooted in harm reduction principles. And, then they'd need to step back and really trust the team to do things differently than they've ever been done before. It's impossible to imagine all the lives we will continue to lose until that happens.
In the meantime, Scott's family, friends and communities continue to grieve and demand justice.
And issues with housing, poverty and so much else remain unabated and major contributors to the sorts of traumas and distress that are the precursors to these deadly interactions.
Scars
When the scars add up to nothing more than scars
Something learned Something forgotten
—Scott Garvey, 10/16/21
Listening to Symphonies
It is autumn the dark clouds of heaven race overhead
While I listen to symphonies as grand as the singing birds who visit me before heading south.
Executive Order Expands Forced Commitment, Threatens Housing First Programs Amid Criticism
By The Madvocate
WASHINGTON, D.C. – On July 24, 2025, President Donald Trump signed an executive order titled "Ending Crime and Disorder on America's Streets," significantly expanding civil commitment laws and shifting federal support away from Housing First and harmreduction programs. The order frames homelessness and mental health crises as public safety threats, advocating for forced psychiatric interventions and increased institutionalization.
The executive order directs federal agencies to encourage states and municipalities to expand civil commitment, potentially increasing forced psychiatric treatment and long-term confinement for people identified as having mental health or substance-use conditions. It emphasizes punitive enforcement against behaviors commonly associated with homelessness, including urban camping, loitering, and drug use, incentivizing cities to adopt strict enforcement measures tied directly to federal funding.
National disability rights organizations immediately condemned the order as harmful and regressive. Jennifer Mathis, Deputy Director of the Bazelon Center for Mental Health Law, warned that the order "appears aimed at
PROFILE | FROM PAGE 15
close friend’s sudden death and a medication change, she experienced another hospitalization. “I had enough clarity to say, ‘You need to put me back on Haldol.’ And I cleared within 24 to 48 hours.”
After her father died in 2018, she began focusing on wellness. She quit smoking after prodding by a partner, started running, completed a 5K, then moved on to triathlons—losing 40 pounds along the way. She began building a version of health that included body, mind, and spirit.
In 2022, a writing workshop on reframing personal narratives prompted a career shift. She quit her job as a clinician and started looking for something new. An interview with Collaborative Solutions in Vermont sparked something. She accepted the offer and moved to Vermont with her mother -- now 82, whom she calls
upending decades of established Supreme Court precedent," which protects individuals against arbitrary confinement. Marlene Sallo, Executive Director of the National Disability Rights Network, emphasized, "What unhoused people with disabilities need is not more policing or confinement, but permanent affordable housing, access to mental health services, and the support to live with dignity."
The executive order follows closely on the heels of a July 2025 report by the Federal Reserve Bank of New York questioning the effectiveness of involuntary psychiatric treatment. The report found that forced hospitalization nearly doubled the probability of individuals dying by suicide or overdose and increased the likelihood of violent crime charges, highlighting the disruptive effects on employment, earnings, and housing stability.
Despite clear evidence from this report and similar research indicating the ineffectiveness and potential harm of involuntary treatment, the executive order pushes for expanded use of coercive measures and reduced investment in voluntary, community-based solutions.
The executive order strikes close to home. Pathways Vermont operates a successful Housing First initiative. Housing First programs prioritize
her “hero” — and a cat named “Siggy,” after Sigmund Freud.
“I live with symptoms,” she says plainly. “But I now live with them successfully.”
That doesn’t mean her life is easy. She’s faced job loss, a traumatic brain injury, and PTSD. Two years ago, Collaborative Solutions fired her after two separate assaults by residents left her concussed. She fought back—through the Human Rights Commission—and won.
After a brief stint at Lamoille County Mental Health, in June 2024, she joined the Vermont Department of Mental Health as Crisis and Curriculum Development Specialist. Miller reports that she has been well-received at DMH. She was open about her lived experience during the interview, and everyone has been “super accepting.” Her colleagues know about her diagnosis and are accommodating when she needs time off or is symptomatic.
stable, permanent housing without preconditions such as sobriety or treatment participation. There is concern that the executive order’s shift away from these evidencebased approaches will disrupt critical community supports proven to reduce homelessness and improve mental health outcomes.
The executive order could significantly impact Vermont psychiatric survivors by potentially reversing the state's progress in minimizing coercive treatments and institutionalization. Vermont has historically emphasized voluntary, community-based supports and maintained relatively robust protections against arbitrary civil commitment. The federal push could pressure Vermont to weaken its current standards, resulting in increased involuntary commitments, diminished autonomy for psychiatric survivors, and erosion of civil liberties.
At the national level, disability rights coalitions have pledged active resistance through legal challenges, grassroots advocacy, and public education campaigns to oppose the order. Advocates call for continued investment in voluntary, evidencebased solutions like peer support, affordable community housing, and harm-reduction programs as humane and effective alternatives to coercive interventions.
When asked if she sees herself as a future Commissioner of Mental Health, Miller says she has her eye on a different kind of leadership. She hopes to help transform the system by supporting people with serious mental illness to find hope, meaningful work, and the chance to pursue their own goals. Citing the Vermont-Maine studies from the 1950s, she wants to carry that legacy forward—moving people out of institutions and into communities where they can truly flourish, with a focus on rehabilitation and aspiration, not just maintenance. While much of Miller’s own wellness is tied to work—it gives her purpose, she says—she’s also “big into yoga, meditation, journaling, running, exercise, reading, and finding community.” She recently discovered a love for saunas and cold plunges. “There’s nothing like sitting in a 190-degree room then going and dipping in
"What unhoused people with disabilities need is not more policing or confinement, but permanent affordable housing, access to mental health services, and the support to live with dignity."
35-degree water,” she said. “It just regulates my nervous system.”
Miller, who nearly minored in costume design in college, also weaves pillows and lampshades out of ribbons, calling it a “great stress reliever.” Last year, she completed a trip of a lifetime to Iceland, joining 13 strangers on an adventure organized by a friend. What’s next on her bucket list? A TED Talk. She wants to share her story and offer the kind of hope no one offered her.
From Ellen’s Stardust Diner to the Vermont Department of Mental Health, Miller is still doing what theatre trained her to do: stepping into the light, sharing what’s human, and insisting on transformation—not just for herself, but for the whole system. And by the way, she says with a chuckle, “I’m single and ready to mingle.”
2025 Vermont Mad Pride: A Day of Defiance, Connection, and Vision
By hannah sorila
Madness is an experience that transcends time and physical reality. Madness expands and contracts. Madness whispers and screams. Madness connects and disconnects and takes us to places we can only imagine within its own creation. Madness is the voice, the vision, the dream that something other than this exists now or can exist in the future. Madness can often be what humanity looks like in survival. Madness can also be what humanity looks like in an intimate dance with euphoria and brilliance. Madness is our invitation to say, this here, too, is life. Madness throughout history has been weaponized, pathologized, and dehumanized. It has been used as justification for treating human beings like they are anything but. It has been used as reasoning for disappearing humans from social and public life, testing “treatments” on folks institutionalized against their will, and discrediting minds that cope beyond denial and complacency by imagining new possibilities.
Madness takes us to new depths, across new peaks, and through new valleys. Madness challenges the way things are, and offers possibilities that disrupt the status quo. A status quo that tells us who to be and how to act. That tells us what “normal” is and what it isn’t. That tells us we can’t possibly expect more than this from others, or from ourselves.
Embracing our madness as our magic allows us to celebrate who we are and how we experience the world. And when we accept who we are, we can begin to celebrate who we are. And when we celebrate who we are, we invite others to celebrate with us. And by allowing ourselves to embrace our true essence without being expected to change or “be fixed”, we learn to have pride in ourselves and our community.
The tradition of Pride honors the leadership and resistance of transwomen of color who led the Stonewall Uprisings in 1969 against police brutality against trans, gender non-conforming, gay, and queer folks. Today we honor Pride during the month of June in recognition of the fight against state sanctioned violence against the queer community, and we extend this honoring by celebrating
Mad Pride in July to acknowledge the continued fight against state sanctioned institutionalization and violence against psychiatric survivors, mad folks, neurodivergent folks, and others marginalized by the mental health system.
Today, pride means honoring ourselves, our realities, our madness, our communities, and our existence.
Pride means returning home to ourselves through reconnecting with the natural world. Decolonizing our minds, bodies, and relationships. Embracing the world and letting the world embrace us back, knowing that we are all interconnected. Pride means authenticity - which is a radical act of resistance in a world that favors conformity and dampens the light that madness can offer. Pride means living life as art, and expressing the self as poetry.
Pride is about imagining new worlds, new realities, new futures. Pride is about making liberation possible now, right here in this very moment. Pride is planting seeds, nurturing growth, and harvesting the sweet fruit of every moment of our labor.
Pride is about connecting deeply and leading with love. Pride means divesting from the
Joyous defiance filled Burlington on July 12 as Vermont’s annual Mad Pride Day march and celebration surged from Church Street Marketplace to Battery Park.
The following photos capture the moments of connection, speakers calling for justice, and remembrance of Scott Garvey, killed by police on July 7, 2025. Each image reflects the pride, grief, creativity, and determination that defined the day. In the accompanying essay, hannah sorila, explores pride as both celebration and resistance. sorila’s words mirror what the photos reveal: a community honoring its own realities, embracing its madness as magic, and imagining liberation not as a distant dream, but as something possible here and now.
current systems of oppression, and reinvesting in our communities. Pride is deconstructing our conditioning, and re-writing our stories for ourselves. Pride is embracing contradiction and ambiguity and paradox.
Pride is Mad Liberation. Pride is Land Back, is re-indigenization. Pride is a Free Palestine, is ending all occupations and genocide, and divesting from imperialism. Pride is abolishing ICE, the police, the prison industrial complex, and the psychiatric industrial complex. Pride is migration and immigration and protecting our sacred right of movement. Pride is disability justice, masking, and community care. Pride is disruption and world building. Pride is reciprocity and accountability. Pride is life beyond capitalism, control, and exploitation. Pride is connection and interdependence. Pride is joy and love.
Pride is collective liberation, because none of us are free until all of us are free.
hannah sorila is MadFreedom Advocates’ operations manager and was a member of the Mad Pride planning committee
Photos by Oliver Parini / MadFreedom Advocates, Inc.
THE ARTS
two admissions
By Mercury Smith
My legs shake under the thin sheets. I am trying and failing to slow my breath. When the balding man escorted me through the doorless doorway, I heard a clatter on the other side of the dark room. Blue hair, a messy bob — a pixie gone without a cut. I saw something glinting beneath her lime green Croc. Free of charms, obviously; free of personality, for our own safety. The nurse sees what I see, and the CD shard reflects rainbow as he picks it up off the ground and leaves us.
I don’t know whether to speak. It is the wrong place, wrong time for introductions. Too late for both of us. Moonlight casts the shadow of a dead lamp post, and I think of strangers who already know more about one another than friends.
She whispers: do you want to see what I was doing? I tense up, thinking I know what’s to come.
Slow to respond, she gets out of bed. She lifts her arm — surprisingly smooth — to pull back the curtain, revealing etchings on the glass. I try to make sense of the shadows on the wall.
She was hoping to finish the Ouija board tonight; the full moon is supposed to make “contact” easier. She laughs when insulting the nurse for interrupting, but looks deadly serious when she tells me he cursed us. She educates me on the rules of spirits: You need to know their name.
You need to be able to say goodbye.
I know she is gone. It’s been a decade now, and I am struggling to remember her name. I never got to say goodbye.
VISUAL DESCRIPTION: Black fabric in an embroidery hoop depicting a room stitched in white thread. On the left there is an empty doorway, and on the right there is the outline of a lamp post. In the center there is a mirrored Ouija board in scratchy lettering, and the word “Goodbye” is incomplete.
By Elias Green, Maladaptive Behavior
The Madvocate
The Madvocate welcomes art of all kinds for publication in The Madvocate. If you have work you’d like to share with our community, send images (300 dpi preferred) and a brief description to info@themadvocate.org. All submissions should be original work by artists with lived experience.
THE ARTS
The Mental Patient Blues
By David Wrong
I’ve been over medicated
I’ve been overanalyzed
I’ve overcomplicated
And I’ve been dehumanized
I’ve been stuck inside a system
Designed to keep me down
But I guess I’ll hang around in it
Cause it’s the only game in town
I’ve been tired and frustrated
I’ve been ignored and patronized
I’ve pushed aside and hated
Pigeon-holed and stigmatized
I’m just looking for an answer
A solution I can use
I’m just looking for a reason why I got the mental patient blues
I got lots of paranoia
I got unpredictable moods
And I find myself being watched
By a bunch of suspicious dudes
I just want someone to tell me
Everything will be okay
I sure do really hate these blues
I wish they’d go away
I got the Mental Patient Blues I sure do feel abused
Maybe I should run for president Hey! I got nothing to lose
Well, I may have lost my mind
But I’ve got plenty of time I got the Mental Patient Blues
Well, I got group in the morning
And a coffee break at ten
Then we stand around and shoot the breeze
And it’s back in group again
Well, I sure do feel much better
That I got this off my chest
This therapy has sure made me tired
I think I need some rest
This therapy has sure made me tired
I think I need some rest
What Could Possibly Be Wrong?
A Rhythmic Re/Indigenizing Trauma Transformation Celebration
By Lisa Nash
“Do you know Peter? Levine M.D., of course! My dear, he’s all the rage! Haven’t you read his work? I’ve thumbed every page!
But…you must know Dr. van der Kolk!? Oh, say it isn’t so! he’s the new messiah, he’s very in the know!
They have the right letters after their names; in science they are fluent! Of course they hold the golden keys–that’s certainly congruent…
Like knights in shining armor come to save us from ourselves, such good doctors lead the way through trauma’s awful hells!
So long as you don’t ask yourself how so much trauma came to be… so long as you don’t notice the frankly missing we.
We who kept the Truth alive through long traumatic ages: witches, mystics and misfits excised from history’s pages.
We who never bought the lie, who never turned our faces away from blessed Mother Earth: we who left few traces.
As they “discovered” the Americas, they now conquer trauma’s lands–never once admitting our blood is on their hands.
What, oh what, heals trauma best? Grandmas have always known: that’s why docs had to kill a bunch to ascend their throne.
We knew the body mattered: we always lived that way. We were always very clear: kids need to run and play!
People who’ve been terrorized need to scream and shake–usually lots longer than good doctors’ visits take.
The gravely wounded need the arts, and we need justice, too. And no one here was waiting to learn all this from you!
We don’t need your expertise, your zillion dollar studies, to prove what we already knew back when you folk were puppies.
Ancestors indigenous taught us all to dance.
Ancestors indigenous knew how we get entranced
By the strangely human thing that always screams “Me! Mine” while Love sings day and night “We!” and “Thee!” and “Thine!”
Wise ones have always Known, and thank goodness some still do: trauma is forgetting Who is really who.
When I pretend I can go free while billions live in hell–when I pretend I just don’t hear the Water’s tolling bell.
When I act like getting paid means more than living Truth–when Love calls on me to act, and instead I stand, aloof–
Here’s the demon that haunts “man”, and indeed it always will… so long as such “good doctors” won’t take one little pill!
Yes, the best cure for trauma is not making it at all–and as M.D.’s forget that fact, it’s certain they will fall.
How do we know when they forget? oh please, it’s plain to see! Whenever they just won’t give thanks to healers such as we.
So, ‘till Levine admits his theft from Grannies of this Earth, and van der Kolk puts Indigenous ones in charge of his net worth–until then, or ‘till I die, whichever should come first, I’ll have to go on speaking in such awfully caustic verse!
So long as Creator gives me breath, I’ll call out what I see: Somatic Experiencing ™ will not end traumatic his/story!
What could possibly be wrong with such good doctor peeps? Could it be supremacy? it always plays for keeps…
Mental supremacy, that’s the game, and anyone can play–so long as you don’t give a crap for much beyond today.
So long as you’ll sell anything to make your sacred buck: up to and including infants born to fuck.
If that’s “all good” with you, supremacy’s just grand! for as you’ve surely noticed, they do go hand in hand:
supremacy and money, yo, that’s the deadly pair: like some royal couple seen together everywhere.
So when some M.D.’s trauma shtick sells and sells and sells your own nose is telling you something surely smells.
At MadFreedom Advocates, we are building a statewide movement led by psychiatric survivors, mad folks, and others marginalized by the mental health system.
We fight for justice, healing, and liberation — and we believe those most impacted must lead the way.
We work across Vermont to support leadership, education, and advocacy for people with lived experience of trauma, institutionalization, neurodivergence, extreme states, or other marginalization by sanism.
CURRENT OPENINGS
• Executive Director
• Patient Representative (Advocate) – Rutland & Washington Counties – will train the right person
• Newspaper Editor – The Madvocate
• Social Media Coordinator
• Freelance Writers (Stringers) – The Madvocate
WHO WE’RE LOOKING FOR
We value applicants who bring:
WHAT WE OFFER
• A peer-run, inclusive, and supportive work environment
• An opportunity to change the world
• Remote work opportunities
• Health, dental, and life insurance (full-time employees)
• 18 paid holidays
• Four weeks of vacation, prorated for part-time employees
• Lived experience with trauma, mental health challenges, institutionalization, neurodivergence, extreme states, or other marginalization by sanism
• A deep commitment to justice and healing
• Creativity, collaboration, and a desire to learn
• An interest in advocacy, organizing, storytelling, or public education
MadFreedom Advocates is peer-run, survivor-led, and radically committed to collective liberation!
https://madfreedomadvocates.org/ join-our-team/or scan the QR code
