The Pitfall of the Scarcity Mindset

I have a dear and long time friend who is a homeowner in Burlington and has lived in this district for far longer than I’ve been a State Representative. She is especially good at calling me into conversations where we may not begin from the same viewpoint. We talk about the issue, oftentimes finding our common ground, and I always have more to consider and a new perspective that will continue to assist me as that conversation then continues with others. I’ve written recently about how it remains critical, as our city’s administration is called into conversations about repairing harm to a former employee, that we understand how monetary settlements will often belong within our commitment to restorative practices. My friend recently asked me to consider how that potential settlement could be spent in so many other ways. This zero-sum approach to allocation of resources is a pitfall that commonly leads us in the wrong direction.

Our conversations often serve as a reminder that the challenges we face in our community require thoughtful dialogue, especially when we don’t see eye to eye. This is especially evident in the ongoing discussions about how Burlington simultaneously addresses systemic racism, the opioid crisis, and economic justice.

I can certainly understand why it might be hard to wrap our heads around a large settlement paid to one individual, but I think we’re missing the bigger picture if we focus only on that figure or when we reduce this issue to a simple conversation about money. The good news is that you and I don’t have to focus on the amount. We won’t have any impact on what gets settled. For me, my best involvement is with convincing the administration that monetary reparations are an appropriate component of restorative work and that the city has a clear history of resolving employment disputes and resolving harm caused with monetary solutions. What’s happening here is part of a deeper conversation about systemic problems, appropriately identified as sourced from the perpetuation of structural racism.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of pitting one issue against another, especially when resources feel scarce. When we, then, start imagining what all gets left behind or other ways to spend that money, we fall into the trap of zero-sum thinking. Settling a legitimate professional defamation complaint is a valid problem currently facing the administration and it’s one that they will likely need to spend money to resolve. That’s a truth we need to acknowledge alongside the conversation my friend initiated that then seeks to pivot into questions about how we best respond to our most vulnerable community members. Specifically, she contemplates the proposed settlement as in opposition to potential investments in youth services and the opioid crisis. When we fall into the trap of zero-sum thinking, we risk playing into the hands of a system that pits marginalized communities against one another, distracting us from the root causes of inequality.

The problem is not the money requested as severance, nor is it simply about how we allocate funds to deal with the substance use disorder crisis or after school programs. The real issue is how we’ve allowed these crises – both opioid addiction and the lack of youth programming – to get to this point by not addressing the root causes. We’ve created an economic system that allows for and encourages the hoarding of wealth by a very small minority of people. Such a system requires the perpetuation of poverty and the erasure of a strong middle class. Inappropriate wealth distribution has to get that wealth from somewhere. As a result, we underfund critical social services and now we’re scapegoating a Black woman in a high-profile position to avoid the uncomfortable truth that our society hasn’t equitably supported communities of color while we’ve also disregarded those struggling with addiction. When we commit to hiring a person with lived experiences to address how Burlington has also benefited from the legacies of white supremacy and racism, we have to prepare ourselves for learning some uncomfortable truth about how even Vermont is not immune. You don’t have to read very far on the various social media platforms to understand how the deliberate defamation of Tyeastia Green has so quickly morphed into armchair critics shouting about how this now becomes evidence for the dismantling of any commitment to sustaining an Office of Racial Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging. This is nothing more than well established systems of power and privilege spinning the narrative to preserve their power.

It’s important to step away from either-or thinking. We can and must allocate funding that responds to both the opioid crisis and on afterschool programs for kids. They aren’t in competition with each other. Both are symptoms of larger systemic failures – like income inequality and the lack of mental health support – that we need to address holistically. Framing it as one side winning while the other loses is dangerous and doesn’t move us toward solutions.

I want to also identify the language we’re seeing in various online debates that dehumanizes people suffering from addiction. It’s understandable to feel fear and frustration when we see people using drugs openly, especially near places like the King Street Center and schools – what should be a safe place for children to gather. Fear is a natural reaction when faced with the visible signs of the opioid crisis, especially when it’s happening near our kids. But we must resist the urge to dehumanize those suffering, recognizing that their struggles are a reflection of the system’s failures, not personal moral failings.

These members of our community are not “the problem” themselves – they’re suffering too. Dehumanizing them only worsens the situation by making us think we can solve it by excluding them from public spaces when, in reality, we need to treat the root causes of addiction, poverty, and the housing crisis. There’s a much bigger conversation about how we’ve avoided the federal responsibilities to fund mental health services since Reagan eliminated the Mental Health Systems Act of 1980. 

But let’s focus on the bigger question: how did we get to the point where both opioid addiction and a lack of youth services are putting people at risk? And how can we better support everyone, from kids to those struggling with addiction, instead of making them compete for scraps of funding?  And how do we learn to trust a Black woman to do her job even when that very job is designed to bring this community into critically needed conversations on hard to hear truths about inequity? How do we reframe the conversation to highlight how systemic issues can’t be addressed through scarcity thinking and invite this community to think more inclusively about possible solutions?

As always, I remain available and willing to continue the conversation. I’m fortunate and grateful for my friend who consistently keeps me practiced in the process by which we navigate those conversations from different starting points. I invite you all to join me in asking the hard questions, but also in seeking solutions that lift everyone up. Let’s commit to addressing the root causes rather than treating symptoms, and let’s do it without turning on each other.