I know the stigma firsthand. I remember having to enter a PIN on the days I was hungry enough to ask for food in high school. That is one of the few numbers I still have memorized, 050565. I remember the sideways glances and the quiet embarrassment of standing in line, knowing that not everyone had to do the same.

As we welcome a new year, we find ourselves reflecting not just on our personal resolutions but also on the shared hopes and dreams we hold for our community. This time of year is a chance to reflect and shape the story we want to write together.

For us, 2025 isn't just another year on the calendar. It's a chance to double down on the values guiding us as a family and neighbors: love, equity, and a commitment to lifting each other up. Whether at the Selectboard, the Planning Commission, or waiting outside MEMS to pick up our kids after school, we are reminded daily of our community's immense potential when we come together with a common purpose.

Our children are also watching and feeling the weight of these times. The morning after the election, my two nine-year-olds woke up feeling heartbroken and, quite frankly, afraid. They asked me if their dads would still be allowed to stay married and worried if they'd be taken away from the family they know and love. Those were their exact words as we sat together eating breakfast the following day, as well as real-world examples I've heard from families within my own circle right here in Vermont. As a parent, it was heartbreaking to see their fear—a stark reminder of how political decisions ripple into the hearts of our youngest ones. But, and this is incredibly important, it also strengthened my determination to move forward with hope and to work towards a community where every child feels safe, seen, and loved.