Protesters gather at the Robert E. Lee statue on Richmond's Monument Avenue. Photo: Sanjay Suchak
The six-story-tall equestrian statue of Robert E. Lee has towered over Richmond’s Monument Avenue since 1890. Soon, it’ll be gone, replaced by empty sky.
“That statue has been there for a long time. But it was wrong then and it’s wrong now. So we’re taking it down,” said Governor Ralph Northam during a June 4 press conference.
The announcement comes after the death of George Floyd sparked a week of national protests against police brutality. Demonstrators in Richmond have targeted the Lee statue since the protests began, spray painting “Black Lives Matter” and other slogans across the statue’s base. When Richmond police tear-gassed peaceful protesters at the site on Monday night, the statue became an even more charged symbol of oppression.
Richmonders have re-contextualized other Confederate spots in the city as well—the United Daughters of the Confederacy building, just a few blocks from the Lee statue, was lit on fire on May 31, with the word “Abolition” written next to its steps.
Zyahna Bryant, the Charlottesville student activist who started the petition to remove Charlottesville’s Lee statue in 2016, spoke at Northam’s press conference on Thursday.
“I want to make space to thank the activists in Charlottesville who have put in decades of work to get us to where we are today,” Bryant said. “Without them, we wouldn’t be here.”
Charlottesville, ground zero for the fight over Confederate monuments, could see its statues of Lee and Stonewall Jackson removed later in the summer. This year, the General Assembly finally passed a rule allowing localities to remove their Confederate monuments. The law will go into effect July 1, and then City Council will have to vote on their removal, hold a public hearing, and offer the statues to any museums that want them—a total of 60 days worth of legislative hoops to jump through—before the monuments can legally come down. At an event in March, local activist Don Gathers said he thought it best not to schedule the removal ahead of time, so as to avoid any potential violence.
Richmond’s Lee statue, by contrast, sits on state property, and can be removed without public comment or review. Northam says the cranes will roll in “as soon as possible” and put the statue in storage.
Amanda Chase, the only Republican who has so far announced a 2021 run for governor, called Northam’s decision a “cowardly capitulation to the looters and domestic terrorists” that’s aimed at “appeasing the left-wing mob.” A statement from a collection of Virginia’s Republican state senators said the statue should remain where it is, but called Chase’s statement “idiotic, inappropriate, and inflammatory,” reports WSLS 10 News. (Republicans have not won a statewide election in Virginia since 2009.)
The Lee statue in Richmond is one of five Confederate statues on Monument Avenue. The other four, which Richmond Mayor Levar Stoney said Wednesday he also wants removed, are on land controlled by the city of Richmond. To take down those monuments, Stoney would have to follow the same process that’s required in Charlottesville.
Elsewhere in the country, many Confederate memorials have been torn down informally. People in Montgomery and Birmingham, Alabama, have toppled statues during demonstrations, and monuments have been spray-painted and otherwise altered in countless other cities. In Alexandria, Virginia, even the United Daughters of the Confederacy got in on the action, removing a statue of a soldier that it owns from one of Alexandria’s central streets.
“Make no mistake,” Northam said at the press conference, “removing a symbol is important, but it’s only a step.”
“I want to be clear that there will be no healing or reconciliation until we have equity,” Bryant said. “Until we have fully dismantled the systems that oppress black and brown people.”
See how the gardens grow in Montpelier's virtual horticulture series. Photo: Ethan Hickerson (Mobelux)
Planting seeds: Montpelier, the home of President James Madison, and later, the duPont family, is a former plantation dedicated to historical preservation and education, but its events are not just about the past. Montpelier’s Horticultural History offers an exploration of the evolving and very much alive ornamental gardens of the great house. Virtually explore the lush, verdant landscape and learn how much the grounds have changed over time.
Horror fans will find a solidly terrifying escape in the zombie feature Blood Quantum. The film has plenty of eerie parallels to the current state of societal conflict in reaction to the coronavirus. Image courtesy Elevation Pictures
Love them or hate them, zombie stories remain popular because they represent the nagging fear that the problems we allow to persist will eventually overpower us. Zombies are husks, barely recognizable as humans, possessing our shape and our need to consume but lacking morality, symbols of our collective failure as a society.
In the 52 years since Night of the Living Dead revolutionized the genre, many of those problems have remained unsolved, and are therefore frequent themes for zombie films: racism, consumerism, inequality, militarism, and a lack of faith in the institutions designed to protect humankind.
In Blood Quantum, from filmmaker Jeff Barnaby, the undead invasion parallels an even deeper, centuries-old tragedy: colonialism. A mysterious virus arrives by water and soon spreads to the entire region, confining the Mi’kmaq survivors to the Red Crow Reservation, where hordes of invaders are intent on wiping them out. (“Blood quantum” itself refers to laws first created in the Colonial era, the ratio of one’s ancestry that determines status as a Native American. The laws were often used to persecute, to facilitate extermination and forced relocation, and have been blamed for creating racism where none existed within tribes.)
Blood Quantum
R, 96 minutes
Streaming (Shudder, Amazon Prime)
The story is frighteningly prescient, not only given the current global pandemic, but as the Cheyenne River Sioux and Oglala Sioux tribes are battling with the governor of South Dakota for their right to maintain checkpoints on all roads leading in and out of their reservations due to coronavirus. Barnaby could not have predicted the specific events of today when he wrote and directed the film, which premiered at festivals last year, but it feels ripped from recent headlines.
As with many of the best horror films, Blood Quantum is scariest when it explores the plausible consequences of fantastical events. After the scramble to understand this virus, the Mi’kmaq learn that they are immune, and that the Red Crow reservation’s remote location is strategically useful in keeping out unwanted elements. But the immunity is no boon, as they are still in danger of being eaten alive, and geographic isolation means being confined behind metal walls until they die or are overtaken. The promise of staying alive is enough for some survivors, while others cannot envision a future within the fortress’ walls, succumbing to drugs, anger issues, and other destructive behaviors. Each solution only creates a new problem; reservations did not erase the ills of colonization, and the strongest walls do not protect against self-destruction.
Barnaby shows his extensive knowledge of zombie film history, and draws on those movies’ stylistic innovations to build the foundation for Blood Quantum. But even the most seasoned genre fan will be taken aback by some moments, especially in the film’s first act. In the opening scene, we see gutted fish begin to flop on dry land, and it’s disturbing, even for a genre built on shock value.
The opening credits also pack an emotional punch, revealing structures like bridges and buildings from uncomfortable angles. You might not expect the sight of a bridge at a 90-degree angle to be so jarring, but when viewed in the context of an imminent catastrophe, it’s quite effective. The structures we’ve built, whether physical or institutional, have become hollow. At best, they are simply shapes in a barren wasteland, at worst, they hasten our doom. A bridge is no longer a bridge, it is a liability. A police officer has no more authority than a hooligan. Was it always this way? Was our existence always barely contained chaos, or had we fooled ourselves into believing we’d created order?
Of the zombie tales that came before, viewers might find the most similarity with “The Walking Dead”: a character-driven story where reckoning with the past is as vital as contemplating the future. Michael Greyeyes, who portrays former officer Traylor, was even featured on “Fear the Walking Dead” as Qaletaqa Walker. Greyeyes is an excellent anchor for the film throughout; in his former life, his every action suggested a man frustrated by powerlessness, but bound by an unspoken moral obligation to try and make change. His son, Joseph (Forrest Goodluck, The Revenant and The Miseducation of Cameron Post), frequently causes trouble with Lysol (Kiowa Gordon, Twilight), and though they commit petty crimes together, when push comes to shove it’s revealed how truly different they are. There are so many characters with terrific performances that the story might have worked best as a miniseries. But as it is, Blood Quantum offers plenty to enjoy and contemplate.
Blenheim Vineyards recently released a limited edition wine with proceeds going to Frontline Foods Charlottesville and World Central Kitchen, organizations that are providing meals to people in need.
Business not as usual
In recent weeks, many local restaurants that decided to take a pandemic pause have started to phase back into action, including well-loved spots like Al Carbon, Bizou, Brazos Tacos, Little Star, Luce, Tavola, and Tilman’s. These restaurants are reaching customers through online ordering with delivery, curbside pickup, or no-contact handoff of food and drinks. Some, like Citizen Burger Bar and Red Pump Kitchen, are also making use of available outdoor space to bring guests back on site, at a distance. The returns are a glimmer of hope for many after months of closure announcements—both temporary and permanent—due to coronavirus. Check out C-VILLE’s online restaurant guide or establishments’ websites for more info.
Hello, Tonic
Speaking of Tilman’s, reopening the wine and gourmet food spot on the Downtown Mall isn’t the only thing that owners Derek Mansfield and Courtenay Tyler have been working on. The pair is opening a new restaurant, Tonic, in the space formerly occupied by Tin Whistle Irish Pub (which closed at the end of last year after a landlord dispute). Tonic promises build-your-own snack boards and small plates with items like pickled shrimp and marinated mushrooms, and a focus on healthy local fare. Keep an eye out for a summer opening.
Drink with a purpose: Dubbel 151
Spirit Lab Distilling and Champion Brewing partnered on a collaboration to support Charlottesville-area restaurant workers who were laid off due to the pandemic, and the results are good enough to drink. Released in May and produced from over 8,000 cans of beer, Dubbel 151 is made of Champion Brewing’s Brasserie Saison Dubbel and Saison beers distilled to 75.5 percent alcohol or 151 proof. Bottles can be purchased on the Spirit Lab Distilling website with curbside pickup and shipping throughout Virginia and Washington, D.C.
Coffee care
Snowing in Space Coffee Co. released a new whole-bean coffee blend, Frontline Fuel, aimed at caffeinating Sentara Martha Jefferson Hospital health care workers. For every bag of Frontline Fuel purchased at snowinginspace.com, the company will donate a bag to the hospital. The medium-roast blend is made of certified Fair Trade organic beans and is available for one-time and subscription purchases, as well as wholesale for retailers and offices.
Wine relief
Blenheim Vineyards recently released a limited-edition red wine blend called On The Line, with proceedsgoing to Frontline Foods Charlottesville and World Central Kitchen, organizations that are providing meals to people in need. The label, which can also be seen on other merchandise including stickers and posters, is designed by vineyard owner Dave Matthews. And there’s more to come—a white blend is set to release later this summer.
Alan Goffinski’s Pizzas of Charlottesville album—12 lighthearted jingles for a dozen local pizza spots—comes out Friday, June 5. Photo by Eze Amos
At any given time, at least 20 percent of Alan Goffinski’s headspace is occupied by pizza.
“Pizza’s the best,” he says. It’s his favorite food, and he has no qualms about admitting it: “If anyone tells you [their favorite food is] anything else, they’re lying.”
“Pizza’s there for the best times,” Goffinski continues sincerely, not an ounce of cheese in his voice. “That’s what makes it so important. It’s the meal you eat with your buds. It’s a celebration meal.”
His reverence and enthusiasm for the pie inspired Pizzas of Charlottesville, an album of 12 jingles for local pizza places out this Friday on Bandcamp.com.
Goffinski is perhaps best known as the director of The Bridge Progressive Arts Initiative, but he’s a musician, too. In the early 2000s, he toured and made a couple records with indie rock band The 1997, and this past December, in collaboration with a few other local musicians, released Smells Like Music, an album of 20 goofy-sweet children’s songs under the moniker Little Skunks.
So Goffinski’s been in “a playful songwriting headspace,” and with local pies of all kinds always on his mind, he says the jingles “developed organically.”
“The idea was that this would be my love letter to pizza, and to local business,” says Goffinski, who chose to focus the ditties on area spots (i.e., non-national chains) that serve primarily pizza and that might knead a little boost right now: Vita Nova, Lampo, Christian’s, Belmont Pizza, and the like.
Each jingle reflects a restaurant’s individual style, says Goffinski, and none “could easily be swapped out for the others without some rearranging. If your pizza restaurant has a brick oven pizza, I’m mentioning the brick oven. Or if you make a particularly large pizza, I’m going to maybe mention that.” (He definitely mentions that.)
Goffinski will donate Pizzas of Charlottesville proceeds to the Charlottesville Restaurant Community Fund, and he’s working with local artist and Burnley-Moran Elementary art teacher Ryan Trott on some merch, too, just in case the jingles catch on with fellow pizza-lovin’ locals.
That’s the purpose of a good jingle, he says: they’re short, simple, slightly repetitive. “They’re all deliberately a little obnoxiously catchy, the kind of thing that maybe you wish wasn’t stuck in your head, but because it is, you embrace it, smile, and curse my name when you’re falling asleep at night.”
Goffinski emphasizes that none of these jingles have been officially sanctioned by the restaurants they celebrate, but some seem to be on board with the idea. “I have no expectation that any of these pizza places are going to use these jingles in any way, shape, or form…especially if they’re trying to maintain any sort of air of professionalism,” he says with a half-self-conscious laugh. “But I would invite them to!”
Goffinski might eat some of these pies more than others, but each has its merits, he says, and he loves them all. “There’s no such thing as bad pizza. Even bad pizza is good pizza.”
Photo by Eric Kelley, who turned a discounted cattle stock tank into a backyard pool.
It’s a steamy 88 degrees, on average, in Charlottesville in July, and that’s not factoring in the humidity—making it vital to have spots to cool off outdoors. But as summer approaches and many businesses reopen, swimming options remain few and far between. Here’s our guide to where you can (and can’t) hit the water, and how to do it safely.
Beaches
Virginia Beach opened May 22, with restrictions including no groups of more than 10 people, no tents, no group sports, and “beach ambassadors” on hand to enforce social distancing (non-family members must be six feet apart from one another). Play structures remain closed, and parking garages and surface lots are limited to 50 percent capacity.
Governor Northam allowed the rest of Virgnia’s public beaches to open, with similar restrictions, starting May 29, and most Eastern Shore beaches (along with hotel and rental accommodations) are now open. The town of Cape Charles announced it would reopen its beaches on June 5.
Virginia Beach (seen here pre-pandemic) is open with restrictions. Photo: Ben Schumin
Pools
Under Phase One of Northam’s reopening plan, outdoor pools were allowed to open for lap swimming, with a limit of one swimmer per lane. While Charlottesville Parks & Rec has announced it will keep its public pools (along with its spray parks) closed for the entire summer, private pools across the area are open.
ACAC Adventure Central: Members can reserve lanes online (no guests allowed). Bathrooms are limited to one person at a time and outdoor cafés will open soon. ACAC is hoping to open up some of its other pools in Phase Two, and is accepting new members (memberships, which include access to all five area locations, start at $92/month).
Boar’s Head: The pool is currently closed, but the club is making plans to open it to members (with reduced occupancy) in Phase Two. They are accepting a limited number of new members, but it’ll cost you $1,500-$3,900 to join, plus monthly fees of $195-$299.
Farmington Country Club: Farmington is offering “limited services” to members only, which may or may not include the pool—we can’t tell you, because nobody there returned our calls.
Fry’s Spring Beach Club: Currently limited to 10 lap swimmers in the pool at a time, no guests. Summer memberships range from $415-$1,018, plus initiation fees, but the club is not accepting new members at this time (a waitlist is available). In Phase Two, according to its website, FSBC plans to open up all three of its pools, to “a predetermined number of pre-registered, socially distanced members at one time.”
Crozet Park Aquatics: Formerly part of the Piedmont YMCA, the pool in Claudius Crozet Park is now operated by ACAC. It’s open to members for lap swimming from 11am to 7pm —sign up online for a 30- or 60-minute session. Bathrooms are limited to one person at a time.
Lakes
Sorry, lake-lovers: Albemarle County’s three swimming spots (Chris Greene, Mint Springs, and Walnut Creek) are closed for the entire summer, although trails are open. And while the Forest Service has opened some trails in the George Washington and Jefferson National Forests, the popular Lake Sherando remains closed for the foreseeable future. “We will continue to assess these closure decisions and will continue to work closely with our state and local partners to determine the best path forward,” says a public information officer.
Rivers
Boaters on the Rivanna River. Photo courtesy Rivanna River Company.
Rivanna River Company is offering daily and weekly rentals of kayaks, canoes, stand-up paddleboards, and tubes, although shuttle service is suspended. You must reserve online, and select a time slot for pickup between 9am and 12:30pm on Saturdays and Sundays. Equipment rented out within 48 hours of a previous rental will be sanitized by the staff.
James River Reeling & Rafting, in Scottsville, is open for tubing, canoe, kayak, or raft trips, with shuttle service for groups of 10 or fewer. Advanced reservations only.
James River Runners, also located in Scottsville, is taking advance reservations for canoeing, tubing, rafting, and kayaking for groups of 10 or less.
Want to take a dip? Be mindful of currents, always swim with a friend, and avoid the river after heavy rains, when pollution levels can increase.
Swimming holes
At the request of the city and county, Sugar Hollow Reservoir is closed for the summer. But other local swimming holes are still accessible if you’re willing to hike (make sure to bring water, hand sanitizer, and a mask).
Blue Hole: Parking is available at 6796 Sugar Hollow Rd., near the Charlottesville Reservoir. Walk along the trail for about 1.5 miles (it’s a little steep).
Riprap Hollow: For experienced hikers, the Riprap Trail in Shenandoah National Park, which recently reopened, offers a swimming hole about 3.5 miles in. Hike out and back or complete a 10-mile loop. Park at the Riprap Trail parking area at milepost 90 on Skyline Drive. Entrance fees for the park ($15-30) still apply.
Paul’s Creek: Operated by The Nature Foundation at Wintergreen, the trailhead (and parking) is located off Paul’s Creek Court in Nellysford. At just 1.2 miles roundtrip, it’s an easy hike and boasts multiple waterfalls and natural water slides.
Swim safe
There’s no evidence the coronavirus can spread through water in pools, hot tubs, or spray parks, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Lakes, oceans, and other natural areas have also gotten the seal of approval. But there are many safety precautions to keep in mind before hitting the water.
We spoke with Eric Myers, environmental health supervisor for the Thomas Jefferson Health District, to learn more about how to swim safely during the ongoing pandemic.
While more recreational swimming areas may open up during Phase Two, “we’ve been given no guidance on what that will look like,” Myers says. But in general, he emphasizes that swimmers follow the same COVID-19 prevention efforts as they would out of the water, from social distancing to hand washing. Here are some of his dos and don’ts:
DO:
Limit groups to 10 people or less.
Avoid crowded swimming areas.
Keep six feet or more away from others, both in and out of the water.
Limit sharing of pool toys and gear (kickboards, swimming noodles, etc.), and disinfect them between uses.
Wear a face covering when not swimming.
Wash your hands and use hand sanitizer often, especially after touching high-contact surfaces like umbrellas, chairs, etc.
Control droplet spread by coughing or sneezing into your elbow.
Put on sunscreen (make sure it’s not expired).
Follow lifeguard directions and posted swimming
instructions.
DON’T:
Swim if you are sick or live with someone recently diagnosed with COVID-19.
Swim in unguarded areas.
Bring prohibited items, or participate in unauthorized activities. At the beach, that includes: group sports, alcohol, speakers, tents, and groupings of umbrellas.
For more information, visit CDC.gov, or call TJHD’s COVID-19 hotline at 972-6261.
DIY it
As the heat started to set in, local photographer Eric Kelley stared down a summer with three kids under 10 and no pools to go to. So he took matters into his own hands. “It is a galvanized cattle stock tank,” Kelley says of the shiny, 8-foot wide, 2-foot tall metal tub that now sits in his backyard. The tank was designed for cows to drink from, but Kelley turned it into one of the most impressive DIY pools you’ll find in town.
“I got it at Tractor Supply,” he says. The tank was a little bit bent and dented, which is why Kelley scored it for half price. He chased down just the right filter at Valley Pool & Spa in Waynesboro, and even chlorinated the water. “Now we have a beautiful crystal-clear blue pool,” he says.
Kelley’s family normally spends summers at Fry’s Spring Beach Club, just a few blocks from their house. But with everything derailed by the virus, they didn’t join this summer. Kelley’s kids are thrilled to have the stock tank to swim in. “They’re over there right now,” he says. “We’ve been quarantining with a couple neighborhood kids that we’re allowing to be in there with us.”
For those of us who aren’t as ambitious as Kelley, there are other ways to stay cool at home. Walmart has several kiddie pools in stock, while Target sells a more elaborate inflatable pool—complete with an inflatable bench. Hardware stores like Martin’s will fit you with a sprinkler (make sure it has a vertical spray, so there’s plenty of water to jump through). And, of course, there’s always the old reliable garden hose.
This Saturday night, local musician and HIV/AIDS educator Shawn Decker celebrates 30 years since his Make-A-Wish Foundation "wish" with a Facebook Live concert.
Shawn Decker remembers the first time he heard Depeche Mode. He was 12 or 13, and getting a ride home from his friend’s brother when he noticed the music coming out of the car stereo.
“What is this?!” he asked.The vulnerability of the lyrics, the mood of the new wave/synth-pop sound—itwas unlike anything he’d heard before. Depeche Mode became his favorite band.
Thirty years ago, on June 6, 1990, Decker met Depeche Mode after a show at Merriweather Post Pavilion in Columbia, Maryland. It was a turning point in his life, and he plans to commemorate the occasion sometime next month with a virtual party on Facebook Live.
What Decker’s really celebrating isn’t the fact that he got to meet his favorite band when he was 14, but that he’s alive to mark the occasion.
Decker was diagnosed with HIV, which he’d contracted through a blood transfusion, in 1987. He was 11 years old, and doctors gave him about two years to live. Meeting the band was Decker’s Make-A-Wish Foundation “wish.” He was ecstatic to meet Depeche Mode, but says it meant “coming to terms with the fact that I was eligible for it.”
In 1990, Shawn Decker (front left, in the patterned shirt) was fighting HIV and facing a frighteningly uncertain future. He met Depeche Mode (below) through the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and will soon host a virtual concert to celebrate the 30 precious years since that night. Photo courtesy subject
But it also gave him something to strive for, he says. He remembers thinking “maybe there was some transfer of magic” when he shook the hand of keyboardist and primary songwriter Martin Gore, and maybe there was: Those 15 minutes with the band made him think that music was something he could pursue.
That same summer, while on vacation at Myrtle Beach, Decker and his best friend bought what he describes as some “rock outfits” and staged a photo shoot on the beach with the water coming in behind them. Publicity pics for when their own band hit it big. For the first time since his diagnosis, Decker allowed himself to envision the future.
Ten years later, thanks to his mom’s persistence in getting her son good medical care, and to breakthroughs in HIV treatments that came just as Decker’s health really started to decline, he was writing and performing his own new wave and synth-pop songs. Many were about living with HIV—making the decision to talk about that “remains the biggest moment in my life,” says Decker. He’d begun traveling the country with his girlfriend (now wife), Gwenn Barringer, speaking to auditoriums full of young people about HIV/AIDS and sexual health.
“Life is interesting like that,” says Decker, talking by Zoom from his music room, where he’s been hosting the virtual music series Shawn’s Ongoing Spacejam during the shutdown. “Sometimes you catch some magic in another way. I never thought I’d be open about [having] HIV,” he says.
Decker turns 45 in July, and now he’s asking, “What am I going to do for another 45 years?” He hopes he’ll be an old man, one who wears plaid pants all the time. But who knows, Decker says with a smile and a shrug. It’s like Depeche Mode sings on “Nothing,” from 1987’s Music for the Masses: “Life / Is full of surprises.”
June 3, 5:08pm: This story has been updated to reflect Decker’s choice to postpone the Facebook Live concert he’d originally scheduled for this Saturday, June 6. Instead, he’ll wait until July.
Protesters gather in downtown Charlottesville. PC: Eze Amos
Over the past few days, videos of the murders of unarmed black people by cops and white “vigilantes,” which sparked nationwide protests, have been replaced by new videos, of cops brutalizing those protesters in cities across the country.
Many police officers have met the legitimate expression of pent-up rage with violence, beating demonstrators and journalists on camera, firing tear gas, pepper spray, and rubber bullets, holding protesters all night without food or water, and, in a sickening echo of Heather Heyer’s murder, plowing their cars into crowds.
As I’m sure someone will write to me to point out, a few agitators have taken advantage of the chaos to loot and destroy businesses, including the office of an alt-weekly in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina, where the editor reports their office was set on fire. Obviously, this is reprehensible (not to mention counterproductive). But it’s also no excuse for law enforcement to escalate violence.
Here in Charlottesville, hundreds turned out for a protest on Saturday, and the Black Student Union at Albemarle High School led another demonstration on Sunday. CPD, perhaps finally learning from its heavy-handed approach to past protests, was on hand largely to redirect traffic. Cops did not confront protesters, and the events were nonviolent.
That’s commendable—though it’s also disturbing that police not attacking nonviolent protesters should be such an anomaly. But the city still has work to do. The Police Civilian Review Board, created in the wake of summer 2017 to promote transparency and build trust, has yet to meet (the final member was appointed by City Council on Monday). And no board exists in Albemarle County, where residents have complained of racial bias by the police, and African Americans are disproportionately arrested, as shown in a report the county declined to fund.
Charlottesville spends $300,000 a year to put police officers in city schools, part of an alarming national trend that has contributed to the school-to-prison pipeline for youth of color. Ending that contract is among the demands put forward by the organizers of Saturday’s march, a list that could serve as a handy map to the steps required for real change.
Demonstrations matter. But supporting the work that follows is even more important.
Julie Gough is an artist, writer, and curator who lives in Hobart, Tasmania. She will speak about her work on Thursday. Publicity image.
The Kluge-Ruhe Aboriginal Art Collection is checking in with its artists to see how they are faring through the pandemic, what they’re working on, and how their artistic and cultural perspectives shape their experiences in this strange new time. Next in the Meet the Artist series is Julie Gough, a Trawlwoolway artist from Tebrikunna in Northeastern Tasmania. Gough was an artist in residence at the Kluge-Ruhe in 2017, and her current focus is on sound and video installations.
Elizabeth Raymond, co-founder of the plant-based NoBull Burger, has seen her share of ups and downs amid the COVID-19 crisis. Jontell Vanessa Photography
If you don’t have hope, what do you have?
That’s the mindset Elizabeth Raymond recently adopted for NoBull, the vegetarian burger and brand she launched almost a decade ago with her mother, Crissanne, and her sister, Heather.
Crissanne, a “wickedly talented” chef and caterer, raised her children to be cautious about what they were consuming, and created homemade veggie burgers based on her own mother’s lentil soup recipe. “It was a big treat when mom made a batch [of veggie burgers] for us,” says Raymond, who was one of six children.“People wouldn’t remember her name, but they did remember her as the veggie burger lady.”
Fast forward to 2011: Raymond was finishing graduate school at UVA and bartending at the now-defunct Blue Light Grill downtown, her sister owned a massage therapy practice, and Raymond’s mother was enjoying her new role as grandmother. But Raymond and her family had always wondered about marketing their mother’s veggie burger, and the timing seemed right, so they pitched NoBull to Raymond’s food industry connections.
“Veggie burgers were just starting to come to the market and just did not compare to mom’s recipe,” Raymond says.
Her chef friends began putting the burgers on their menus, and Raymond landed a spot at City Market, which introduced her to key connections at Bodo’s Bagels and Charlottesville’s Whole Foods Market. Little by little, the brand grew—the burger was picked up by dozens of Whole Foods stores in the mid-Atlantic, 60 Krogers in Virginia, and half of Wegmans 100-plus stores on the East Coast.
Raymond thought 2020 was going to be her year. The nationwide brand was about to enter into its seed-funding stage to raise capital from investors. Her team—a “family unit,” she calls them—was expanding, working on semi-automated production processes, and seeking to scale the company.
“We had great projections for the year,” says Raymond. But as the COVID-19 pandemic took hold, Raymond watched her business “totally halt.” The company lost 90 percent of its food service revenue, as restaurants, breweries, and universities shuttered.
“I felt a sheer panic toward what was going to happen. …Mom and I were looking at each other and saying, ‘What are we going to do?’”
So Raymond did what many entrepreneurs are forced to do at some point, global pandemic or not: She pivoted. Her employees began following strict social-distancing guidelines, wearing personal protective equipment, and performing increased cleaning procedures. The company started providing meals to the Boys & Girls Club, The Haven, and Feed the Frontline.
“For us, food is love,” says Raymond. “We have to take care of our community because they’re taking care of us.”
For nearly two years, Raymond has worked with Tara Eavey of 4P Foods and the Local Food Hub to increase NoBull’s distribution and customer base.
“I have seen local small businesses and farms go from thriving and fruitful, to an entity that is struggling to make it from week to week with non-existent sales,” Eavey says of the pandemic’s impact. When the COVID-19 crisis first began, 4P Foods realized it could serve farmers and small business owners like Raymond by continuing to order as much product as possible. Because of that shift, Eavey recently coordinated one of the organization’s largest orders of NoBull Burgers for its CSA members.
For now, Raymond can breathe a little easier. Her production team has better access to PPE, for example. And NoBull just expanded into two new markets—a natural foods store in Michigan, and Whole Foods in New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut. It’s a region Raymond had been trying to break into for years.
“Our retail sales are spiking, especially in the frozen foods category, since everyone is staying home and packing their freezer. Through all of this, we’re still producing,” Raymond says.
And it’s Raymond’s method of safe, organic food production that the COVID-19 crisis has brought to the forefront of many shoppers’ minds. In April, over 100 poultry and meat processing plants owned by corporations like Smithfield Foods, Tyson Foods, and Perdue Farms reported nearly 5,000 coronavirus cases. By the end of April, prices for meat and other animal-based food products had jumped by at least 8 percent.
Those numbers didn’t surprise Raymond; she hopes the crisis will remind consumers that what they put in their bodies matters. “I hope these events will guide people’s shopping behaviors towards ingredients they can pronounce, farmers or owners they know, and putting a face to a name and how all those things matter,” she says.
Raymond believes nourishment is about finding a balance and eating intuitively. That’s always been her story, and it isn’t over yet. She feels confident that NoBull will be back on menus when restaurants are ready to reopen, and she takes pride in NoBull’s growth and grit in spite of the fragility and fear affecting consumer’s decisions. Pandemic or not, she still has big plans.
