By STEVEN JUPITER
BRANDON—Vermont has a national reputation for progressive politics with an emphasis on individual freedom. But there have been eras in Vermont’s past, even within living memory, when the state itself took actions that seemed to run completely counter to today’s commitment to civil rights. One of those eras was the 1930s, when the state enacted a law enabling the sterilization of Vermonters deemed unsuitable for parenthood.
On Sunday, August 25 at 2 p.m. at the Brandon Town Hall, the Brandon Museum and the Brandon Rec Dept will co-host an audio program by Richard Witting and Jules Lees called “Those Who Were Harmed,” which focuses on the lives of individuals who were sterilized under Vermont’s 1931 eugenical sterilization law. Each episode focuses on a different individual, with Sunday’s episode at Town Hall focusing on Ivor Devino from Forest Dale, who lived from 1916 to 1941 and was sterilized by the state’s eugenics program in 1938. “Eugenics” is the theory, now discredited, that society can be improved through “selective breeding” and elimination of “undesirable” traits from the general population.
Ivor (“EYE-ver”) Devino possessed a sharp mind and remarkable musical skills. But he was born blind and suffered throughout his life from seizures that may have been caused by epilepsy. In the early 1900s, those disabilities would have posed much greater challenges than they do today. It was also decades before the Americans with Disabilities Act and any sort of social movement that recognized the rights of the disabled. Instead, those with handicaps were often seen as burdens on their families and on the state, which provided aid to some of them.
Richard Witting, who initiated this project, was a chef who decided to pursue an M.A. in history at UVM, specializing in the history of food in Vermont. As part of that research, he began examining Abenaki food traditions, which led him to read about Abenaki history more broadly. He soon came across claims that the Abenaki were particularly targeted by Vermont’s sterilization program. Those claims, over the years, had become common knowledge in Vermont. He was surprised, however, to discover that the program seemed to target a much broader range of Vermonters than had been popularly assumed.
“There were 252 documented cases of sterilization under the 1931 law,” said Jules Lees, an educator who partnered with Mr. Witting in creating this program. “Only 44 of those cases are identifiable by name. None of those was Abenaki. It was a pretty heterogenous group that was targeted.”
“We didn’t find any evidence that Native Americans were targeted specifically,” said Mr. Witting in a separate conversation. Instead, Mr. Witting’s research led him to conclude that the state’s concerns were more about economics than about social engineering.
“The law required two doctors to sign off on the procedure,” said Ms. Lees. Those targeted by the program had to fall into one of three categories: feebleminded, idiot, or imbecile. Today we see these terms as derogatory but at the time, they were clinical diagnoses of medical conditions.
“Feebleminded didn’t necessary mean cognitively impaired,” said Ms. Lees. “It often just meant that someone couldn’t thrive in the social situation they were born in.” It often seemed to mean simply that someone was a burden on society in one way or another. Many of those targeted were disabled and/or poor.
And so, Ivor Devino, the blind, perhaps epileptic musician from Forest Dale, found himself involved in the program in his early 20s. With assistance from the state, he’d been sent to the Perkins Institute for the Blind in Boston (the same institution that had helped Helen Keller years earlier), which in itself seems to indicate the recognition of his potential. But in 1938, at the age of 22, he agreed to sterilization, as did two doctors and his uncle, who was acting as his legal guardian at the time.
“Even though Ivor signed the documents, there are questions about informed consent,” said Ms. Lees. “And the sterilization occurred during the brief period when his uncle was his guardian rather than his mother.”
Despite their research, neither Mr. Witting nor Ms. Lees can say for sure why Ivor was sterilized. It may have been his choice, so that he could marry without fear of having to raise children (he did eventually marry) or he may have succumbed to pressure from the state, which didn’t want to have to support any children he may have had.
Three years after sterilization, Ivor went “ice fishing with friends” and didn’t return. His naked body was found beneath the ice of Fern Lake, with his clothes neatly folded next to the fishing hole. He was 25.
Mr. Witting and Ms. Lees were able to track down some of Ivor’s surviving family in the Brandon area and they will be present at the event. According to Witting and Lees, the family was aware of the general contours of Ivor’s life, save for the sterilization.
“There were very real lives here,” said Mr. Witting. “I wanted to explore who these people were, beyond their status as victims.”
Many popular assumptions about the 1931 law and the sterilization program were unsubstantiated, said both Mr. Witting and Ms. Lees.
“The whole sterilization program was based on incorrect thinking,” said Witting. “There was coercion and malice, but it was also more nuanced than people generally believe. The intention of the law was that it would be voluntary and with the participation of doctors. It wasn’t that the state abducted people in the night.”
“There was opposition to the law even at the time,” added Ms. Lees.
Ultimately, the program hopes to draw attention to a different aspect of the sterilization story.
“We wanted to do justice to the people who were mistreated under the program,” said Witting. “The intersection of disability and poverty is a story we often overlook in our past. It’s not often part of the history we tell of our state.”
In the life of Ivor Devino, however, that intersection becomes a central part of the story.
