A group of Vermonters wants to tone down the combativeness that has become part of talking politics with neighbors. Connections across the political divide have frayed as the country has become more and more polarized. Some feel ostracized. Some feel as if they live in an echo chamber. Some just want to be able to connect with the other side.
Enter the Braver Angels. Members of the group are part of a national organization that in 2016 started local alliances aimed at disarming political discourse through respect, active listening and understanding. About 120 chapters exist nationwide. The name comes from Abraham Lincoln’s first inaugural address, when he called on the “better angels of our nature” to mend a country on the brink of civil war.
Vermont’s first group, in St. Albans, formed in 2016, but is now dormant as it seeks new leaders. Chittenden County has an active chapter that organized in 2023 and has since held 13 meetings, about once every two months. The mission: to “bring Americans together to bridge the partisan divide and strengthen our democratic republic.”
At the gatherings, the goal is for Angels to explain their views, not convince others they’re right; it’s not about changing anyone’s mind. Everyone represents and speaks for themselves, not groups or political parties. They follow strict etiquette: Don’t interrupt, pay attention and ensure that quieter members have a chance to speak. Lastly, the discussions are kept confidential, and a facilitator is responsible for keeping things on track.
Rather than refer to themselves as liberals, conservatives or independents, Angels use colors: blue, red or purple. “It can feel a little more open and less specific in terms of people’s associations,” statewide organizer Lincoln Earle-Centers said.
New members first reach out to a cochair; there is one for each color. They attend their first meeting as observers to see how the conversations play out and get a sense of the rules. The Chittenden County Braver Angels meet next on September 4 at the South Burlington Public Library. Organizers say the chapter skews blue, so they’re hoping to level things out.
The concept is catching on. Wayne Maceyka of Hinesburg wants to create a Braver Angels chapter in his town.
“People would take to Front Porch Forum and, you know, vent their spleen. You might feel good because you’re able to yell into the void, but it does nothing,” Maceyka said.
Hinesburg residents recently traded heated messages about the “political messaging” at the town’s Fourth of July parade, Maceyka said. He saw the kerfuffle as an opportunity to help neighbors connect on political issues and discuss them respectfully rather than criticize one another.
“I find that when you kind of cut through all that, you end up with a lot in common,”he said.
To find out what it’s like making connections across the political divide, Seven Days spoke with three members of the Chittenden County Braver Angels chapter who self-identify as red, blue and purple. Their responses have been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Dan Feliciano
62, Essex
Occupation: Business strategy consultant; former Libertarian candidate for governor, GOP candidate for state auditor
Political affiliation: Red
Member since: 2023
What made you want to become involved with Braver Angels? Was there a specific event in your life or in the media?
I was really frustrated by the lack of conversation and understanding between the reds and the blues. I hear the reds bashing the purples and the blues, and vice versa. There needs to be a better way to have a conversation. It doesn’t have to be so ugly. My wife actually heard about it on the radio, and I said, “Hey, I’d love to go to one of these meetings to learn more about it and see if this was actually real, that you can get people from different political leanings and perspectives to actually have a good conversation without name-calling and stuff like that.”
Do you think people who would normally identify as red in Vermont say they’re purple to avoid criticism?
I think Vermont has a massive independent voice. You just look at elections and how many split tickets [there are], and especially at the Braver Angels, there’s no need to mask that. As a matter of fact, we had a woman at one of the meetings who was blue, went purple and is now red, just from having the open conversation.
What were politics like in your home growing up?
We discussed it more when I was a kid going to Puerto Rico and staying with my grandfather. It was an open conversation. We’d read the paper and literally my grandfather would say, “All right, I’m going to take this side. You take that side. Now we’re going to flip sides.” So, it was something not to hide from. [Politics] wasn’t a bad word. It’s part of life.
How did you develop the ideas you hold today?
I really believe in agency. And you have to realize, you know, I was 17. I came from a broken Puerto Rican family. I dropped out of high school, joined the Navy, right? And I always had this stoic philosophy of agency, that this is what you know: I did this to myself, and I can correct this. I never blamed anyone for my situation. And this might be unfair to say, but I’m going to tell you anyway: I believe that on the Democrat side, it was more like, “This victim, this victim, feel this way,” and I never wanted to be perceived that way. I’m a proud person. I’ve made some bad decisions, but I’ve managed to navigate them.
When was the last time you changed your mind? Are there any examples of how you may have changed one of your opinions since taking part in the club?
In one of our initial meetings, we had to write up stereotypes about our parties, our beliefs. One of the stereotypes was that the Republicans love the Constitution, and we want to protect it. [Blues said] we do love the Constitution as well, and we do want to protect it, but we know that the Constitution, as created by our forefathers, was intended to be updated and changed with time, and we believe it’s more of an aspirational document. Now, when you hear that, it may not mean anything to you, but to me, I was like, Yeah, I see that.
Nancy Sugarman
73, South Burlington
Occupation: Retired teacher
Political affiliation: Blue
Member since: 2016 (started in St. Albans; now the facilitator for the Chittenden County group)
Are there any examples of how one of your opinions has changed after taking part in the club?
I feel like when my friends come in and talk about the “Trumpers,” I’m not comfortable hearing that. I want to hear about the person and what their interactions were and what they said and how they feel. It’s changed my behavior with my neighbors.
I had a really interesting conversation with a neighbor. We had very, very different views on religion. And I was really curious, genuinely curious, about his views. And it was really interesting, staying in that place of curiosity, but also realizing that I needed at some point to share how I felt, or else it felt a little like a gotcha.
Why can changing your opinions feel like losing a battle?
I think it’s always hard to change. On some level, there’s a sense of loss: It’s not true what I believed, or I’m not who I thought I was, or I’m wrong. So that’s why I really like cognitively deciding to be in a place of curiosity, because then there is no wrong or right. It’s just, That’s interesting and Wow, I never thought of it that way.
What is the goal of the Chittenden County alliance?
When I first joined, I felt like, Well, we can’t just sit around and talk all the time. We’ve got to be taking action in the community or something. But I came over time to realize just being able to have this space could be really powerful. I try to do that every time I can, [tell people] “Do you know there’s a group that actually talks to each other across this divide, and it’s possible to do?” Because I’ve met many people who wouldn’t do it, can’t do it, can’t imagine it. And so just opening that door to me is very powerful.
Are we beyond hope?
Oh, I hope not. But that’s an important question. I had friends for dinner last night, and one of them mentioned she found a prayer to say before you read the news. I knew it in Hebrew, but the interpretation was, “Take care of me before I read the news.” And I love that. I just thought, Yeah, we all need that because I don’t think we should be hiding our heads in the sand.
Peter Straube
68, Monkton
Occupation: Home inspector
Political affiliation: Purple
Member since: 2023
How did you develop the political ideas you hold today?
When I was [teaching] at Champlain College, there was an incident. Somebody taped a piece of paper on [a statue] that said, “It’s OK to be white.” And it caused a firestorm. If we’re going to have an open community here, there’s no room for somebody saying, “It’s OK to be white”? There was a student event that evening scheduled in the auditorium. They canceled it because they were afraid of what might happen if people wanted to talk about that. And I thought, This is an institution of higher learning who, you know, professes to teach critical thinking, and they’re making it absolutely unacceptable to even say “It’s OK to be white”? I thought that was a moment when I said, “I can’t be blue anymore. That’s not inclusive, the opposite of inclusive.”
How do you see polarization in Vermont?
I do remind people that one out of three Vermonters voted for Trump. When people do the blue/red state thing and you look at the last presidential election, I would say the extremes are like 45 percent to 55 percent, and we represent it as 100 percent blue. I think, journalistically, that’s a big mistake that doesn’t reflect [reality]. The state lines are so arbitrary anyway, as cultural and political stuff goes. It’s the binary thing. The binary is a big problem in this country.
What single piece of advice would you offer to U.S. political leaders to reduce tensions?
The first thing that pops to my mind is acknowledge other people’s perspectives. You know, the Democrats lost in the presidential election. I think you could chalk that up to sticking to the tribe. And it would have been very easy to just come out and make a few statements about, you know, “We need to get this border thing under control.” That’s all you have to say. You don’t even have to have policies. You don’t have to agree with any Republican thing but acknowledge that there are lots of working-class people of all races who are struggling.
What were politics like for you growing up?
My own experience has been that the blue side has gone far extreme. It wasn’t that way when I was growing up. I don’t recall that we talked about political parties much. My parents, I think they voted Republican, but there was a point when I remember my mom, it’s not like her, but she said that Reagan was an idiot.
How is today’s political environment different?
I was a little kid when Vietnam was spinning out of control. [Then] we had a nice little coasting for about 30 to 40 years or so. Some people would say that what we’re going through right now is not as bad as, you know, Kent State. Kids were getting shot on college campuses. I mean, now we have people being whisked off streets by masked [federal agents], you know, but back then, they were actually getting shot.
What makes you mad about politics or brings out emotion?
I see so many politicians who are clearly out for their own benefit, and they take a position in order to stay in power. It’s about power. It’s about dominance. It’s about influence. It’s about financial benefits, all those things. In theory, they’re supposed to be representing us. And my anger is that they’re not.
Editor’s note: Sam Hartnett’s work is supported by the University of Vermont’s Community News Service summer reporting program.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Green Mountain ‘Angels’ | Vermonters from both sides of the political aisle are fostering respectful conversations about the issues”
This article appears in The Connections Issue.




