Local author Marc Boston appears at Dairy Market on March 15. Supplied photo
Growth spurt: Local author Marc Boston writes stories for young people that emphasize the importance of diversity and inclusion. His newest picture book, A Promise to Grow, was created in partnership with area nonprofit City of Promise, which works to end generational poverty and foster a culture of achievement in all kids. Set in Charlottesville’s Westhaven community, the story follows CJ, whose pride in his neighborhood and kind heart move him to create a community garden. The book’s foreword tells a child-friendly, yet candid version of the loss of Vinegar Hill, and the afterword, written by Andrea Douglas and Jordy Yager, discusses pivotal moments and figures in the community’s history, including John West, a formerly enslaved man who became a civic leader. Following a reading by Boston, the community will work together to create a mural that will be displayed at Dairy Market.
T. Denise Johnson (second from right) at her alma mater, Charlottesville High School, with some of her mentors: former cheerleading coach Jackie Estes; mom Mary Johnson; and Reverend Alvin Edwards, a family friend.
Photo: Amy and Jackson Smith
When T. Denise Johnson was growing up in Charlottesville’s Westhaven neighborhood, she was one of the few black kids in her honors classes at school. Decades later, that’s a disparity that hasn’t changed—the city’s public school system has one of the widest racial achievement gaps in the nation. In both Charlottesville and Albemarle County schools, black students are less likely to be selected for the gifted program and more likely to be suspended or held back a grade, and these inequities have persisted for decades.
Last October, a damning article in The New York Times and ProPublica brought national attention to Charlottesville’s disparities. The city responded by holding a series of community forums, and has begun making significant changes.
These have included revamping its gifted program, Quest, and hiring Johnson to be its first supervisor of equity and inclusion. Johnson had returned to her hometown a few years ago to run City of Promise, an education-focused nonprofit that supports children in the Westhaven, 10th and Page, and Star Hill neighborhoods. We sat down with her before the school year began to talk about her own experiences in city schools, and the daunting challenge ahead.
C-VILLE: What’s the scope of this new role?
JOHNSON: As supervisor for equity, I’m charged with looking at all of our practices, policies, and procedures, and making sure that they are serving all of our students to max capacity.
So that’s pretty broad.
Yeah, it’s pretty broad (laughs). A lot of it looks like partnerships and facilitating. It’s so broad because it’s about creating a culture. I think Dr. Atkins and CCS were very intentional about not making it feel separate, because really and truly, equity is a way of life, it’s a culture, it’s something that everybody has to be practicing. So I sit at the table with a lot of different people doing various things, making sure we look at everything through an equity lens.
You grew up here.
I did!
What schools did you go to?
I went to Burnley-Moran, Walker, Buford, and CHS, Class of ’98.
That’s really great. To have someone in this position who actually went through the schools.
I call it a perfect love story, when you’re able to come back and serve the community that raised you. I consider myself forever indebted to Charlottesville, especially CCS. So when I got the opportunity to come back home, I was committed to making sure that I was able to serve those that were coming after me, it was very important.
What was your experience like as
a student in Charlottesville public schools?
I had a fantastic experience. I was in the Quest program, and an athlete—I was a cheerleader and ran track. I was one of the few students of color in the honors-level classes. That has remained consistent. But I also had relationships of various races, ethnicities, upbringings, things like that. The beauty of my education, I received so many relationships and opportunities, but also growing up in the Westhaven area, I was able to witness those that didn’t have the same opportunities. I know they were no less intelligent or capable than I was. So I’ve seen the greatness that education can be, and I’ve also seen those who weren’t able to be as successful as I was. And so I think that’s part of the work that I see myself doing, making sure that everyone is able to connect.
Why do you think it was different for you versus some of your peers?
I had some educators who became role models. I think it’s important to have people tell you that you can, in a space that gives you a lot of messaging that you can’t do certain things and that certain things aren’t for you. When you’re able to find a mentor or model in your space who says you can do these things, and not just you can, but let me show you how, I think that was what was able to leverage me to a different place.
I did have parents that cared, but they were working, and they worked hard. My mother was a Head Start teacher [when I was] growing up. But it was also those outside supports that were able to support me, even to this day.
Johnson (second from left) walking through her Westhaven neighborhood with her sisters and her mom. Photo courtesy subject
Who were some of those supports?
I had a fantastic cheerleading coach, her name was Jackie Estes; she was the one that actually introduced me to the college I eventually went to for undergrad, Virginia State.
Also Reverend Alvin Edwards, who was my best friend’s father, really was pivotal, just watching his leadership and his work within the community just model what leadership looked like. Being able to be around their family’s system of love and expectation was important as well.
And then there were so many others. We had a strong cohort of African American leaders during that time. There were just many people who were intentional about the expectations that they had of us, and me in particular, and there were those that challenged me when I wasn’t doing the best that I could.
Looking back, is there anything the schools could have done differently, either for you or others?
That was when tracking was huge, and I think Dr. Atkins is working really hard to address that. There were moments when certain cohorts of students would go one direction and another set would go a different direction. Kids early on learn expectation, and what we as adults believe that they can do. And so I think the higher the expectation, for all students, the more that students will accomplish.
Do you see the changes in the Quest program as helping to address that?
I think any time all students are able to receive a high level, what we call a gifted quality, of education, it would be for the greater good of every child. I think the intention is to make sure all our children are receiving that same enrichment and resource. And that’s never a bad thing.
You were a school counselor in Richmond for many years. How do think that informs your work or your perspective?
I’ve always been drawn to youth that needed more support. And so part of the reason I got into school counseling was because I wanted to be that person that I needed growing up.
I grew up not knowing about colleges and college readiness and things like that, but knowing that I wanted those opportunities, and I just needed someone to show me how to get there. I wanted to be that for other youth. So as a school counselor, I naturally worked with youth that reminded me of who I was growing up. And not just those children but all children, just making sure that I was able to have conversations that made them feel like they could be successful in the way they wanted to be.
Obviously, both city and county schools have struggled with equity issues for a long time, but the Times/ProPublica story brought national attention to these issues. What did you think about their coverage?
I think that story was a mirror for some of the work that needed to happen. When I was a director at City of Promise, we received a grant based on some similar disparities. But coming on this side, it made me see the work that had been happening, and also that we were ready to be intentional about working to fill those gaps that we knew were going on. And so I have seen both sides of it.
I think everything happens for a reason. And it’s not just that the article threw us into the forefront, it’s what happens after that. Anytime you are confronted with something it’s about what happens afterwards. And I think there could have been several ways the school system chose to handle it, but I think they handled it to the best of their ability. And making sure that there are a ton of positives that come out of that situation.
What was the reaction to that story in the Westhaven community?
It varied. I think overall there were many people that could see Zyahna’s point of view, that had lived and experienced it, not just current kids but people that had gone through the school system. I think that a lot of people could understand what she was saying and how she was saying it.
In general, you’ll find that a lot of adults’ perspectives have to do with their own personal experiences they had as children, and so we have to work for those people that don’t necessarily have great relationships with the school system.
I always say that people should expect action; trust is something that is earned through action, through doing exactly what you say you’re going to do. And so I think this is a time for the system to build and rebuild trust that may have been lost along the way.
Why did you think these inequities have been so persistent?
When you’re talking systems, and systemic issues, one thing isn’t in isolation. Systemic issues in education aren’t in isolation from affordable housing, from justice issues—it’s all tied together. And so I think looking at the history of Charlottesville, there’s always been a system of inequity in some form.
We’ve had these conversations before. Does it feel any different now?
It feels different to me. I believe that with the amount of students that we have, there’s no reason for us not to be able to make the systemic changes that we need to make. I’ve seen on the school side the leadership is being very intentional, and aggressive about the work and bold about the work they want to have happen, and so I am trusting that we’ll be able to accomplish the goals that we’re setting.
I always say that for me it’s not about pointing fingers. And I think it’s important to say it’s not about what the school system has done wrong. The school system is made up of the community and its members. And so while we are continuing to hold the schools accountable for their work, I think we all have to take ownership in making sure our kids are successful.
Photo: Amy and Jackson Smith
It’s seems like a potentially very daunting position to be in.
Yeah, but I’m so thankful for it. Under no circumstances did I ever imagine I’d be in this position, to be able to effect change in the way that I can. But I am incredibly blessed because of it. And I don’t consider it daunting, I consider it amazing work, that I feel privileged to do. And so I think as long as I have that perspective and know that I’m doing all that I can, I can feel comfortable in what we’re doing and being a part of the CCS team.
Do you think in terms of the other pieces, like housing and justice issues, do you see that also changing from when you were growing up here?
What I know is that everyone is working really hard to make things right. I’ve worked at a lot of tables to try to break down these inequities and figure out what we could be doing differently. So I know the intention is there, the desire is there. I want to believe the right people are at the tables to make the necessary changes moving forward.
I feel like oftentimes wealthier, white parents inject themselves pretty strongly into the debate, sohow do you make sure everyone’s voices are being heard?
That’s what it comes down to—no matter whether you’re wealthy and white or not, you just want your voice heard, and so the key will be bringing everyone’s voice to the table. And what I’ve found is that when parents didn’t have great relationships with the school, it’s because they didn’t feel like they were being heard. So just making sure that we’re being intentional about hearing everyone and taking into account how they feel, and using it to better the school itself.
And what does that look like?
It’s not just about electronic communication. A lot of times I just serve as a reminder about basic fundamental relationship things, like having verbal conversations with people. There’ll be a set of our parents who prefer surveys, a set who will benefit from text messages and phone calls, and there will be a set of our families who will benefit from door-to-door, community engagement.
We’re being very intentional about community engagement early on. We’ve started even this summer with back to school registration and making sure that we’re going into communities to engage with people. And also just having conversations with families about what method works best for them.
Are there any other things you were working on at City of Promise you could see bringing this to role?
One of the initiatives that I’ve brought over is going to be a division-wide mentoring and tutoring program, the Bring Back the Village network, which is rooted in the African proverb that it takes a village to raise a child. I know the importance of having a mentor, someone who is there to support you, to check on your grades, to make sure you’re doing well in school, not just academically but emotionally, and just being that liaison when you need them. And tutoring is important; at City of Promise we had started to build out after-school tutoring programs, but that’s something I wanted to carry over to make sure every school has their own tutoring hub.
Another big thing I learned on the City of Promise side is the need for partnerships—not just with the school system, but with other nonprofits and organizations in the city. There are so many people doing amazing things in Charlottesville, so on this side, creating a Community Care Coalition—that’s what I’m tentatively calling it—where all of our nonprofits and organizational players in the city are coming together to discuss the youth development that’s happening and support the kids.
There are so many different issues around equity—what do you
see as the most important things to address?
All of it. All of it. One of the things I also learned is that you can’t treat any one symptom in isolation. In order to effect real change, we have to do the hard work of fixing all of it, or attempting to address all of it, to do the work that we need to do.
It seems like you are pretty hopeful.
Yeah, I live in hope. I don’t think you can do the work we do without rooting yourself in hope. We all are in this field because we hope to instill in our kids that hope for a better tomorrow and making sure that they are equipped to handle the world that we leave for them. There’s no reason why any child, whatever their background, can’t be as successful as they want to be.
Charlottesville schools are closed for a second day while police investigate an anonymous online threat made for an ethnic cleansing at Charlottesville High School. Staff photo
By Samantha Baars and Lisa Provence
As thousands are celebrating literature at the Virginia Festival of the Book in Charlottesville, a less-exalted missive from the nether regions of the internet, threatening ethnic cleansing at Charlottesville High, has closed all city schools for a second day Friday.
Around noon Friday, Charlottesville police announced they had arrested and charged a 17-year-old male with a Class 6 felony for threatening to commit serious bodily harm to people on school property, and harassment by computer, a misdemeanor.
At a following press conference, Charlottesville Police Chief RaShall Brackney told reporters and community members that the person they arrested identifies as Portuguese, was in Albemarle County at the time of the arrest, and is not a Charlottesville High School student. She said state laws prohibit police from publicly identifying the minor, unless he were to be tried as an adult.
Local, state, and federal partners located the suspect’s IP address with the help of internet providers, according to Brackney. She did not divulge whether he had any weapons.
Chief Brackney addresses media and community members.
“We want the community and the world to know that hate is not welcome in Charlottesville,” Brackney said at the press conference. “There are not very fine people on both sides of this issue.”
Charlottesville Superintendent Rosa Atkins also spoke, and said she found it “particularly troubling” that the person who made the threat is not enrolled in the city school system. School will resume as normal next week, and counselors will be available as usual.
“We will give [students] a warm welcome Monday morning,” Atkins said.
Mayor Nikuyah Walker said she hopes the way the threat was handled will lessen any fear of future threats, that Charlottesville is “leading the fight for justice globally,” and that “the world is aware that this will not be welcomed [here.]”
Thursday, Albemarle police arrested an Albemarle High teen for posting on social media a threat to shoot up the school. Police say that is unrelated to the Charlottesville High threat to kill black and Hispanic students.
Atkins says the decision to close city schools a second day and keep 4,300 students home is to make sure everyone in the community, including students and staff, feel safe returning to school.
The racial terrorism is a painful reminder to a community already traumatized from the August 2017 invasion of white supremacists.
UVA media studies professor Siva Vaidhyanathan tweeted, “Today, as Charlottesville teachers and students sit home for a second day trying not to let fear overtake them, I’m reminded of those who told me after August 12, 2017, that white supremacists were not a threat to this country. If you think that, be glad you have that luxury.”
Another reaction came from UVA law professor Benjamin Spencer, who tweeted, “America: This is life as a black family in America. My children cannot go to school for a second day in a row because some rando person has threatened to murder all the “n*ggers” and “w*tbacks” at C’ville High School.#Charlottesville#ThisIsAmerica”
City School Board Chair Jennifer McKeever says, “It’s unfortunate and frankly it’s really frustrating that we live in this world where people can make these threats and feel comfortable making these threats.”
CHS senior and activist Zyahna Bryant, president of the Black Student Union, posted a screenshot of the threat from the message board 4chan, and says racism in city schools isn’t new. There will be no reconciliation without structural change and the redistribution of resources for black and brown students, she adds.
“In the past, when students of color have brought forth racial concerns, there has been no real change,” says Bryant. “The is the time to act and show black and brown students that they matter with lasting changes and reform. Now is not the time to pass another empty resolution. It is time to back the words up with action.”
Courtney Maupin’s daughter is a freshman at CHS. “It’s scary to know there are people out there who don’t like you for the color of your skin,” she says. “I had to explain to my two younger children who didn’t understand why they weren’t in school yesterday.”
When she heard Thursday schools would be closed again, “I cried last night because it’s heartbreaking,” says Maupin.
Kristin Clarens, a local anti-racist activist and mom of three, is one of several community members who says she’s working to dismantle white supremacy at a local, national, and international level. In the immediacy of the school closings, they’re making sure food insecure students who rely on school lunch are still getting fed.
Two of her children go to Burnley Moran Elementary, the city’s largest elementary school, where kids from two public housing projects—Westhaven and one near Riverview Park—are bused in everyday. Clarens, who’s watching four extra kids today, says these students can be particularly vulnerable, and their parents can’t always find childcare or transportation when school is cancelled abruptly.
During yesterday’s closing, she and other parents hosted an open invitation lunch at Westhaven, and they’re planning to have another one today from 12-2pm. It will be paid for by the Burnley Moran PTO, which is accepting donations of money and nonperishable food that can be delivered to the Westhaven Recreation Center during the community lunch hours.
Like most parents, Clarens says she’s glad the city made safety a priority.
“I’m grateful for the efforts that people are making to keep our kids safe on every level, but I also think we should be more forceful in calling this act of white supremacy and terrorism out for what it is,” she says. “I’m heartbroken that we live in a climate where this is allowed to get to this level.”
McKeever, too, is heartened by the outpouring of community support in the face of a situation that is “not something you want to have to explain to our children.”
Updated Friday, March 22 at 11:53am with the Charlottesville Police Department announcement that they’d made an arrest.
Updated Friday, March 22 at 1:50pm with information from the press conference.
Joyce Ivory, president of the Charlottesville chapter of the National Coalition of 100 Black Women. Photo by Eze Amos
Before Joyce Ivory was president of the Charlottesville chapter of the National Coalition of 100 Black Women, she was a girl growing up in the Fifth and Dice (Fifeville) neighborhood. A Charlottesville High School track team member, cellist and a singer in the choir, Ivory looked up to a group of young women a few years older than she. Denise Johnson, current program director of City of Promise, who grew up in Charlottesville’s Westhaven neighborhood and graduated from CHS in 1998, was among that group.
Ivory, who graduated from CHS in 2002, says that Johnson and her cohort “showed us what excellence was” in a number of ways—on the track, in the classroom and in church pews—and, especially, by talking to everyone they met.
Denise Johnson, program director of City of Promise. Courtesy subject
After leaving for college and spending a few years living and working in bigger cities (Ivory in South Carolina and Washington, D.C., Johnson in Richmond), both women have returned home to lead local organizations. As part of the Center for Nonprofit Excellence’s Paradigm Shifters series, they sat down to discuss leadership—which both women view as an act of service—in the Charlottesville community.
C-VILLE: What makes an effective leader?
Joyce Ivory: They’re forward-thinking, approachable, transformative. Leaders have to be able to pull themselves back for a second and ask, “Is this about me, or is this about our mission? Is it even bigger than that? What am I doing this for?” Transformative is a big one, though—I want to help people realize their passion and potential in life, help them find the resources to help them stand on their own two feet.
Denise Johnson: You have to be willing to build other leaders, to say, “I see these great things in you, this is where you can lead.” And when someone says to you, “I am strong here,” allow them to lead in that way. You can’t be a one-person show.
How has being from Charlottesville shaped you as a person, as a leader?
JI: Knowing Holly Edwards. She always asked, “What do you need? What can I do?” She was always among the people, so down-to-earth. She was authentic, transparent, willing to come down and level with anybody. Level up, level down, level linearly—she was one of the first people that I saw out there in the community, not looking for recognition, not looking for the notoriety or the power. She had a heart to help, to serve the community and its people.
DJ: The Edwards family impacted both of our lives. I remember seeing the Rev. Dr. Alvin Edwards have conversations with people that I thought, as a little black girl growing up in the projects, I would never be able to have those types of conversations. Seeing him stand toe to toe with certain people gave me the permission to believe that I could do it too. Additionally, the community, especially in Westhaven, allowed me to see what a real work ethic looked like. My parents and others worked hard for everything that they had; they worked many, many hours, but their paychecks didn’t reflect it. That’s where resilience comes into play. Growing up, I learned financial tips; I learned what it was like to struggle and not to be afraid of struggle, because even in the midst of struggle I was always taken care of, and I knew I could work myself through it because of the work ethic that I witnessed. I was able to see both great worlds—I saw what the world was in my own home, but I could also see what the world could be, through the exposure that I gained latching on to the Edwards family.
What are the issues you aim to address through leadership in your organization?
DJ: Westhaven is the oldest and largest [public] housing development in Charlottesville; that means that most of its residents live at or near the poverty level, under-resourced from a financial perspective. And a lack of finances often means a lack of exposure to other things, to different lifestyles that are available. City of Promise’s education-based mission was built to begin to plant seeds to say [to the kids in the Westhaven, 10th and Page and Starr Hill neighborhoods], “You are just as valuable as any other person in this community. You may not have the same resources, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be just as successful. And we will stand in the gap between, so that when you choose to be successful, we’ll be here to show you what you need.” We work to remove every obstacle that could stand in their way.
However, some people assume that, just because someone grows up poor that they are in some way lazy, or lacking in love, and it’s part of my quest to make sure that people know that being impoverished does not mean lacking in love or community or family. These are some of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and a lot of what I’ve learned, even with all the academic degrees that I have, the foundation started in Westhaven.
JI: Our group came together because a lot of black women, on all socioeconomic levels, feel invisible in our community—women who are floating that poverty line all the way up to women who have doctorates—we all felt somewhat alone, that there wasn’t a lot of community. And so we have this coalition of women going out to support one another as a community of black women. We’re looking to attack different issues from a political standpoint—talking with delegates; looking at issues such as suspension rates in schools; disparities between children of color being incarcerated, having to go to adult facilities and thus lacking an opportunity for education. We work with the Boys & Girls Clubs, the PB&J Fund…we have a mammogram mobile. …I advocate for mental health and self-care, too, because as much as it’s awesome for our ladies to be out there with superhero capes on, we need to empower ourselves and feed one another. We are trying to be that village in this community for black women.
What is the work that is left to be done?
DJ: With City of Promise, we’re in charge of educating two different groups [the neighborhoods themselves, plus other, more affluent people in the city]. Part of coming into this position was to challenge people and empower people on both sides of the field. Let’s really address whatever stereotypes we are bringing to this table and have an honest racial conversation, especially at a time such as now. We’re always thankful for people who want to help, but we are trying to get away from the savior mentality. We want to make sure that people are helping from an authentic space, so while we appreciate all that the community is doing for us, when you are trying to help people from a savior mentality, you’re treating people like they have a deficit or that they are lower than, or beneath them. We’re challenging that perspective.
JI: As many programs as we have to empower people, we’re also here to educate the community about these things and how people need to continuously educate themselves. Systemically, as a society, we need to stop acting like we are more progressed than we are; we need to lean into the discomfort and be honest [with each other and ourselves]. We have to stop saying “I’m colorblind” and “I don’t see race.” Let’s have a dialogue, let’s talk about it, put it on the table. …I think in light of things that happened in August, people [are realizing they] are not as progressive as they think they are; they’re living in this little rosy bubble, and it got popped. Sometimes it takes a tragedy for people to really see that we haven’t come as far as we thought we have. But I think there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
DJ: I think there is a group that is willing to come to the table and say, “Let’s have these conversations, let’s do what we have to do.” You can’t help how you grew up; you can’t help the things that you were fed growing up, or the assumptions that you made on either side. But you can decide what you will do from that point on. [And you can decide] to fight the systemic issues that we know exist in Charlottesville. In Charlottesville like in a few other places, certain people assume that being black equates to being poor, and being poor equates to being black. And if you [as a person of color] are articulate, if you are a different from the stereotype, then you are perceived to be an exception to the rule, and that’s not okay. We need to address the issues of affordable housing; intergenerational poverty; systemic oppression…everything that has been around for hundreds and hundreds of years, way before any of us. We need to continue to break those systems down. That’s very important work that will always continue to be done.
Charlottesville’s complicated, uncomfortable history plays a role in these challenges surely. What’s the importance of educating people—particularly young folks—on this history?
DJ: There are certain stories that need to be told and re-told, so that we know our history. Not just Charlottesville history, but all history, all black history, all local history and how it impacts us. When you have that knowledge, you conduct yourself in a different way. With knowledge definitely comes power, internal power, self-love power. And power to want to better yourself and the community and your family.
What are some of the things the Charlottesville community is doing well?
DJ: There is a love and care in Charlottesville that sometimes gets swept under the rug, but it truly exists. Especially now, we’re just not in a good, positive space overall, but, in my account with the partners that have come to City of Promise to say, “What can I do?,” or, “I believe in your mission, I believe in your work. What can I give?” That willingness to do whatever it takes to make right the wrongs that have happened.
JI: People are a little more cognizant than they have been in the past. They recognize that some things have been idle and that there is work to be done in trying to figure these things out. People are stepping up, understanding that there’s no one here to save us; we have to do it for ourselves….wanting to address the affordable housing issue, wanting to go out and figure out what we can do, asking, How can we pump the breaks on this and figure something out to bring resources to our community, and retain our residents?
DJ: And retain the diversity that comes along with it.
JI: It’s still a warm community, despite some ugliness.
What could the community improve on?
DJ: A continued dialogue, a continued investment. Don’t let the situation in August fizzle out. Because, for a lot of people that were on the negative side of racial oppression, it wasn’t something that just surfaced in August. And so, we need to continue the dialogue, continue the fight, to make sure that injustices are made right.
JI: Absolutely. It’s important for stuff like that to not continue to repeat itself, that we not continue to keep coming back to this point, but we grow moving forward and kind of understanding and learning from that experience. I think that’s something that…it has some opportunity. We’ll say it that way. [laughs] There’s opportunity there.
Both of your organizations have a mission focused on young people and the community around them. Why is that?
JI: You’ve got to look at the whole person—the young person, their parents, their household. We have to dive into the mindset of everyone involved, so that [young] person can continue to cultivate on what you’re putting into the community, at home.
DJ: You have to plant those seeds; [young] minds are very fertile ground. Because they will be the group that’s charged with breaking certain barriers for all of us, we have to build them up in such a way that they are able to sustain that and fight that fight. Growing up, there were certain seeds that were planted in me that didn’t blossom until much later. But they were planted, they were in and they were ready [when the time came]. We have to make sure that these young people are always a garden.
This Q&A was conducted by C-VILLE as part of the Center for Nonprofit Excellence’s ParadigmShifters series, which takes a look at how different people are making an impact locally.
