“The Way It Is”: Land Preservation and the Culture of White Wealth in Lyme, Connecticut

Abstract

This essay is a critical folklore study of the culture of White wealth and its impact upon land preservation practices in the town of Lyme, Connecticut. On the one hand, it seeks to provide an example of research into White elite culture that Anand Prahlad recently called for in folklore studies. On the other hand, it is a contemporizing of research conducted in Connecticut in the 1950s by sociologist Frank Lee, and a contribution to allied scholarship that addresses problematic land preservation practices and their relation to “soft” racism. This article focuses especially on the public statements of the Lyme Democratic Town Committee and the Lyme Land Conservation Trust, arguing that such expressions should be considered viable forms of folklore. I provide an immanent critique of both organizations and criticize their failure and lack of accountability to perform values they publicly declare as essential to their core mission. I further critically analyze a specific case study that unfolded in 2021 in Lyme concerning open space. Although a study of folklore, this essay is composed with the non-specialist in mind and encourages organizations dedicated to social justice and equity to foster increased collaboration with folklorists.

Is it your hope? I do not know. But it is my hope and it says: “Ho! everyone that thirsteth—come ye to the waters—” white and black, yellow and brown, rich and poor, ugly and beautiful. If you do not want living waters of life free for these, brothers, you do not want peace—you love war. Of such is the culture of white folk; the will of the world is not so.

—W. E. B. Du Bois

The inspiration for this article lies in two previous works, one recent and one a decade old. The recent impetus is Anand Prahlad’s contribution to the Francis Lee Utley Memorial Panel at the 2020 Annual Meeting of the American Folklore Society, later published in the Journal of American Folklore (2021). The panel addressed “Race and Racism in the Practice and the Study of Folklore.” Prahlad did not hold back in his language. He describes the United States as a colonial empire that has become a “racial dictatorship” since the Civil Rights era, one that is “ruled in part by force, but also through hegemony”— that is, “institutional coercion and propaganda” (289). He continues:

White supremacist ideology and systemic racism are foundational pillars of the racial dictatorship of the United States, and contrary to popular notions that view racism as un-American, it is actually very American. Racism structures institutional and organizational policies, as well as individual and group thought, speech, and behavior.

(289)

In the remainder of his essay, Prahlad takes folklorists to task for our role in erasing White privilege, elevating Whiteness, and contributing to the oppression of marginalized populations. He denounces our complicity in advancing a colonialist and imperialist agenda despite articulating progressive values. He criticizes several essential components of the discipline, details how traditional folklore research and publication norms prohibit analysis of racism, and concludes with an eight-point corrective for training in folklore studies going forward.

I agree with Prahlad on these concerns. What shook me, however, was his indictment that US American folklorists had not done enough to examine Whiteness and White culture. He begins:

If folklorists really believed that everyone is the folk, where are all the articles and books about the “non-exotic people,” for example, white professionals in business, law, the tech industry, politicians, the entertainment industry, suburban enclaves, and so on? While there are thousands of articles and books on “Negro,” “Black,” and “African American” folklore, where are all the books on “Caucasian,” “white,” and “European American Folklore”?

(260)

Prahlad further criticized the tendency among White folklorists to study traditionally marginalized people rather than White elites:

In fact, if one really wanted to further the causes of liberation for historically disenfranchised people, studying those people wouldn’t be the most effective project for white folklorists. I would not be the first person of color to state that the problem of racism rests primarily with white people, and if one wants to address systemic racism, one needs to turn the lenses towards European Americans. We would be at a profoundly different place politically and culturally if there were as many collections and studies of white folklore as there are of folklore from people of color. And here, I mean to emphasize the largely unrecognized notion of whiteness as a cultural identity, comparable to the designation of “minority” identities. Such research could have helped to make whiteness, white supremacy, and its many forms of expression a legitimate, institutionalized subject of inquiry.

(261)

Prahlad’s call for more critical investigation of Whiteness and White folk culture persuaded me.

The second, older impetus is more personal. In 2012, I was invited to respond to an article in Cultural Analysis. The essay by Casey Schmitt deftly analyzed applications of intertextuality to the biophysical, including the ways people share discussions of stewardship for the environment. In response, I proposed:

The town of Lyme, Connecticut, where I live, is perhaps internationally known for its tiny arachnid, the deer tick, and the painful bacterial disease it often bears. Locally, the inhabitants are well known for an abiding commitment to environmentalism and to the protection of the natural habitats that span the landscape. Lyme is a small community of only two thousand people, but has extremely active land and watershed conservation programs. Republicans, Democrats, Greens, and Independents alike take pride and solidarity in this active protection of the environment, and often link stories of contemporary preservation with the admiration of the landscape by numerous American Impressionist painters in the early 20th Century. That so many citizens here regard themselves as authors of the environment rather than strictly audiences to it is a phenomenon worthy not only of observation, but perhaps of replication in similar locales.

(2012, 38)

I wrote those lines just months after I had moved to the town, impressed by what appeared to be a ubiquitous commitment to environmental activism. I have long since come to regret that comment. It was, simply put, a partial observation. While it is true that numerous residents of Lyme are determined environmental activists, the issue of land preservation in the town bears a significant correlation to its Whiteness and to a tradition of maintaining racial purity through self-segregation. I am embarrassed that I did not see that in 2012— and readily admit that one reason was due to my own White privilege and a desire (at the time) to ingratiate myself with the community. I failed my own call for a critical perspective, an ethical and intellectual shortcoming that I now hope to rectify.

In this essay, I examine the practice of land preservation as a constituting folklore of the culture of White wealth in Lyme. I intend to argue against numerous deleterious aspects of this tradition, especially its use in sustaining racial homogeneity and economic advantage for the few. I will further demonstrate how its proponents frequently employ a rhetoric of righteousness in order to disregard the rigid social disparities that the practice upholds. In doing so, I aim to produce an example of the study of White folklore that Prahlad encourages us to pursue.

In advancing this critical agenda, I will argue for the examination of certain materials that have generally not been considered genres of or sources for folklore studies. Specifically, I provide an analysis of public statements by two organizations, the Lyme Democratic Town Committee and the Lyme Land Conservation Trust.¹ I contend that akin to more conventional genres such as legends and festivals, such public discourse is a performance of folklore, understood herein as an expression of tradition and culture that constitutes a folk identity and thereby establishes the inclusion and exclusion of certain people (Bauman 1971). As I intend to demonstrate, both organizations utilize a rhetoric predicated on equal access and embrace of racial and economic diversity yet advance a conservation practice that promotes the continued dominance of White wealth in the town. Members of both groups routinely rely upon and produce statements designed to patrol the boundaries of acceptability for community access and to advance a worldview that advocates a specific set of norms and actions.

Ideally, this project will accomplish three goals. First is a consideration of methodological issues in critical folklore studies of White culture, including an expansion of what counts as folklore. Second is a critical analysis of the culture of White wealth in land preservation through a specific case study. Third is an urging of the Lyme community (and others) to redress the invisible but systemic racism and classism that lurks in numerous conservation activities and related traditions. The first two are, admittedly, addressed to an academic audience, and specifically to colleagues in folklore studies. In many ways, it is the third goal that is the more important marker of success for intellectual work. I hope to draw attention to this matter for audiences beyond folklore scholars and to contribute to or assist those communities and public organizations actively working against racism and classism. Given these different audiences, it is my intention to demonstrate to those unfamiliar with folklore scholarship how it might benefit their work, while not being too heavily laden in the apparatuses of folklore studies.

Lyme Demographics

The town of Lyme lies on the eastern bank of the Connecticut River close to where it empties into Long Island Sound. It is just north of Old Lyme, from which it separated in 1855. As with much of Connecticut, since European colonialization in the 1600s devastated and radically altered the populations of Indigenous people, Lyme has been historically White and of English descent. It remains so today. Initially an agricultural community, at the turn of the twentieth century it was an attractive area for impressionists associated with the Old Lyme art colony to live and to paint. Increasingly thereafter Lyme became the site of summer homes for economic elites, chiefly from New York. Since the 1960s improvements in transportation and technology provided opportunities for wealthy Whites to purchase farmland and to construct mansions and other permanent homes.

According to the 2020 census and information analyzed by AdvanceCT and CTData Collaborative, the population of Lyme is 2,352, a slight decrease from the 2010 census of 2,406. Lyme is 32 square miles in size. Its 2021 town profile had an estimated population density of seventy-eight people per square mile, exceedingly below the state average of 738 people per square mile (AdvanceCT and CTData 2021).² According to the Secretary of State, as of November 2022 Lyme has enrolled 757 Democrats, 470 Republicans, 719 unaffiliated, and 28 in minor parties for a total 1974 voters (CSoS 2022). The median household income is $100,435, which is well over the state average of $78,444 but lower than 56 of the other 168 municipalities in Connecticut.³ The poverty rate in Lyme is, however, only 2.3% versus 10.1% in the state; the highest rate of poverty in the town are people under the age of eighteen and the lowest are over the age of sixty-five.

Homeownership in Lyme is very high at 87.9% versus 66.1% in Connecticut and 65.5% nationally. The median home value is $576,100 which far exceeds the state average of $275,400. Only 11 towns in Connecticut have a higher median home value. The geography of Lyme is sprawling, but there are numerous multi-million-dollar estates with sizeable acreage and a section of much smaller homes of lesser value and little acreage concentrated along Rogers Lake (which it shares with Old Lyme). As data from the United States census demonstrates, 42.5% of housing in Lyme is valued between five-hundred thousand dollars and just under one million dollars and an additional 12.6% is valued at one million dollars or more for a total of 55.1% of housing units. Conversely, units valued under three-hundred thousand dollars constitute only 7.1% and homes valued between three-hundred thousand and just under five-hundred thousand dollars make up 37.8%. Most relevant to this essay, 98% of the homes in Lyme are detached or semi-detached (with 82% occupied by the owner), whereas the state average is 64%. Not surprisingly, the town has a remarkably low number of protected affordable housing at 1.06% (TLAHC and RiverCOG 2022).

Demographically, Lyme is 93% White; Connecticut is 66% by comparison. With respect to the Diversity Index—the probability that two randomly chosen individuals will be of different racial and ethnic heritage—Lyme has the lowest in Connecticut at 13% (Cheung 2021). The state average is 56% and the national average is 61%. The four largest ancestry groups are English (25.1%), Irish (17.7%), Italian (13.1%), and German (12.2%); all others are negligible. People of English and Irish descent alone constitute 42.8% of the population. According to the 2020 census, there were a total of 10 African American, 20 Asian, and 56 Hispanic inhabitants. 97.5% of homes spoke English-only, and foreign-born residents comprised a mere 5.8% of the population. Similarly, the median age of a Lyme resident is 52.5 years old, significantly higher than the Connecticut median age of 41.1 years old. Only 14% of the population consists of children under the age of eighteen, whereas 25.5% are those over the age of sixty-five. Put simply, for a folkloristic study of Whiteness and its intersection with wealth, Lyme is an ideal location.

Folklore Studies of Race, Class, and Land

Cognizant of the potential audiences for this article, I am reticent to belabor it with extensive academic bibliographic review. Nevertheless, a survey is warranted both to anchor this essay within its intellectual field and to encourage non-specialists in organizations dedicated to social justice of the benefits of engaging with professional folklorists.

Prahlad was not alone in his indictment of the lack of attention to race and raced activities in folklore studies, especially as that neglect both reveals and fosters systemic racism and White supremacy in the United States. On the same panel and in the same resulting 2021 issue of the Journal of American Folklore, he was joined by Diana Baird N’Diaye and John Roberts. Drawing upon critical race theory, N’Diaye identified numerous ways systemic racism manifests in folklore scholarship and argued for the importance of reciprocal and collaborative autoethnography as part of genuine antiracist engagement. Roberts provided a historical survey of White power structures and systemic racism in folklore studies, and equally called for new approaches to address it. To be clear, none of these scholars posited that concepts of race have been wholly absent from folklore studies, but rather that such work has far too often amounted to White elites (the folklorists) examining the folklore of BIPOC communities (and especially African Americans) who are consequentially “othered” or treated homogenously by the research.

Some folklorists have made similar claims in the recent past (for example, Greenhill 2002; Greenhill and Marshall 2016; Jordan and DeCaro 1996; Mullen 2008; Prahlad 2019; Roberts 1993) or produced research overtly mindful of these concerns (for example, Fine and Turner 2001; Moody-Turner 2013; Otero and Martínez-Rivera 2021), but such work has not been the historical norm in folklore studies. Fortunately, signs are changing, and a rising tide promises to create paths for antiracist scholarship in the discipline, allied with related scholarly and public intellectual contributions such as Robin DiAngelo’s (2018) and Ibram X. Kendi’s (2019) influential and bestselling books.⁴ Scholarship on Whiteness and White supremacy currently remains scant in folklore studies, but it has begun to appear (for example, Bosse 2007; Buccitelli 2012; Furth 2017; Gencarella 2022; Gencarella and kumar, n.d.; Gipson 2016; Roth 2021; Seraphin 2017; Thomas and Enders 2000). The traditional practices of upper-class White elites, however, remain essentially unexamined and little critiqued by folklorists.

Folklore studies has provided considerably more attention to issues of place, space, and land, especially with regard to regionalism, of various configurations. (Here, as well, a critical matter arises, namely very early associations of folk with specific land as if the two were inseparable.) A comprehensive review of these contributions would be a formidable task. Instead, I would highlight recent works demonstrating a sophisticated understanding of folk identity, regionalism, claims to land, ecology, and environmental protection (including Allen and Schlereth 1990; Feld and Basso 1996; Feltault 2006; Gabbert 2011; Gabbert and Jordan-Smith 2007; Herr 1996; Hufford 1986, 1994, 1999, 2001, 2002, 2014, 2016; Hunter 2020; Ryden 1993, 2001). Most of this scholarship is supportive of environmentalism and conservation (both natural and cultural), especially in the face of neoliberalism, privatization, and capitalist destruction of public resources. Some of it has raised issues of environmental classism and environmental racism (for example, Becker 1998; Howell 1994; McDowell et al. 2021; Tarus, Hufford, and Taylor 2017; Taylor, Hufford, and Bilbrey 2017), but few folklore studies have considered the ways in which land conservation may reify ideologies of White privilege and promote White supremacy.

Although I will examine land preservation as a local practice in Lyme, it is consistent with national trends. Space restrictions prohibit a thorough correspondence between this study and those conducted in conservation biology, critical race studies, geography, legal studies, natural resource studies, and related fields that examine land preservation’s impact on race and class in the face of the rapid expansion of conservation easements, open space initiatives, and the privatizing of nature since the 1980s. To summarize, these studies have discovered that although land preservation and open spaces encourage nonpartisan coalitions (Lowry 2018), they often create racial and class exclusions in housing and foster inequity of access to other benefits (Pendall 2000; Pearson-Merkowitz and Lang 2020; Schimdt and Paulsen 2009; Villamanga, Mogollón, and Angermeier 2017). In this manner, they can constitute environmental racism and White supremacy (Pulido 2000, 2015). Other studies have demonstrated that open space is frequently prized for halting development and increasing property value rather than for providing amenities to the public (Geoghegan 2002; Geoghegan, Lynch, and Bucholtz 2003; Irwin 2002; Kay 2016) and that the privatization inherent in such conservation lacks public accountability (King and Fairfax 2006; Logan and Wekerle 2008; Morris 2008). Several concur that greater research is warranted to support proponents’ claims that private conservation provides widespread ecological benefits (Fouch et al. 2019; Graves et al. 2019; Hardy, Hepinstall-Cymerman, and Fowler 2016; Kiesecker et al. 2007; Rissman et al. 2007) or social benefits that exceed tax incentives for landowners (Merenlender et al. 2004; Van Sant, Milligan, and Mollett 2020).

There is one additional study that merits attention before I commence with a critical analysis. The contemporary folk culture of White wealth in Lyme and its associated traditions are not exclusive. Indeed, as I intend to demonstrate, one of the most alarming aspects of this present study is how it correlates with a previous work, sociologist Frank Lee’s Negro and White in Connecticut Town. Published as a book in 1961, it originated as his dissertation defended in 1953 which drew upon research conducted from 1951–1952. Although Lee disguised the town’s name, it was readily identified as Branford, another coastal town about thirty miles from Lyme, albeit more industrialized and a suburb of the city of New Haven with a much larger population then and now. Strikingly, Lee concluded that despite Connecticut having no laws establishing anything but equal status and common declarations of commitments to liberalism throughout Branford, there was a longstanding and thriving tradition of keeping African Americans “in their place” through various maneuvers that included limitations to housing and White self-segregation. This racialized social control included folkways. Lee summarizes:

In conclusion, in examining the processes of social control, we have seen that some are unconscious while others are conscious, some are vague and diffused while others are overt and crude, some are indirect while others are direct. In general, it seems that in such a town as this one, social control in race relations tends to be unofficial, informal, situational, subtle, and indirect.

(134)

In the pages that follow, I will consider whether anything substantial has changed in Connecticut—“the Land of Steady Habits”—in the seven decades since Lee commenced his investigation.

Lyme and the Traditions of White Wealth

When my wife and I moved to Lyme, the Democratic Town Committee (DTC) sought to recruit us. We joined in 2014. At the time, the DTC chair, Steve Mattson, was also Third Selectman, the lone Democrat on a three-person council.⁵ Mattson provided ample guidance concerning acceptance by the community. He counseled us to become active members of the PTO (Parent-Teachers Organization), to attend the Hamburg Fair and the Lyme Public Hall chowder and potluck dinners, to attend—and someday host—holiday neighborhood parties, and to attend the DTC summer and holiday gatherings, which the governor and our federal senators frequented. At my first DTC holiday party I was surprised to discover several Republicans in attendance, including elected Lyme officials. Mattson explained that the Democrats and Republicans in Lyme had a history of cooperation and that anyone who wished to be influential in the town would require the approval of both. As an example, he mentioned the local tradition of not displaying signs for political candidates (especially sizeable ones) to avoid offending one’s neighbors.

In retrospect, all of this was folklore. It was not, admittedly, the expected kind of folklore that Mattson also passed along concerning nomenclature practices: that is, to understand that houses in the town were named for the person who previously owned them or forever as the home of a historical family. Mattson also distinguished those of us considered “newcomers” to the community—including citizens who had resided there for decades—from the “Swamp Yankees,” whose family histories stretched for centuries and whose names graced small cemeteries and road signs throughout the town.⁶ He advised us to show deference to their living descendants.

Another tradition that I was literally instructed to accept was Lyme’s antipathy toward visitors. In 2014, I asked to be the representative of the town to the Connecticut Eastern Regional Tourism District, an organization established by the legislature to promote tourism in the forty-one municipalities in the eastern part of the state. The selectmen could not recall a time when the position had been filled and agreed to let me do so joking—but joking seriously—on the condition that I promote tourism elsewhere in the region and keep tourists out of Lyme.

Mattson eventually appointed me chair of the DTC communication committee. I proposed a basic start with a Facebook page and Twitter account, along with revisions to the biannual newsletter. As I began to draw up specifics, the nation faced the aftermath of the fatal shooting of Michael Brown, a young African American man, by a White police officer in Ferguson, Missouri. By March 2015, a St. Louis County grand jury cleared the police officer from indictment and the US Department of Justice exonerated him of civil rights violations. Brown’s murder and the subsequent refusal to indict resulted in mass protest in Ferguson and across the country, with calls to redress systemic racism in policing and in the United States as a whole.

At a meeting of the DTC, I proposed that the Facebook and Twitter pages update followers on issues of national importance including racial unrest and student loan debt. Several members (Mattson among them) informed me with alacrity that such news would be of no interest to their supporters in the town. To be precise, no one said the issues were unimportant but rather that the DTC served a community in which such topics would be irrelevant. Incredulous at their frankness, I protested. I countered that student loan debt was a concern to young residents and that, at a minimum, issues of racial unrest were significant to nonwhites in the town and their allies. One member quipped, “You think there are Black people in Lyme?” The reaction was palpable, resounding laughter by most members of the DTC.

I do not recall what I said in response, but it prompted another DTC member to ask, with some sense of alarm, “So you think we’re all a bunch of old racists?” As I said to my wife later, I wish I had the wherewithal to have replied, “No, I think you are a bunch of rich old racists,” and to have quit on the spot. Nevertheless, we did not last much longer. Mattson soon removed me as chair of the communication committee, in part because I recommended changes to the newsletter that might offend Republicans in the town. In addition, several other incidents occurred that my wife and I regarded as anti-democratic, antifeminist, and antithetical to our ethical and political values as progressives. We stopped attending the DTC meetings and officially resigned in protest in January 2016.

One of those antidemocratic maneuvers was the DTC’s cross- endorsement for reelection of Ralph Eno, the Republican First Selectman, for the 2015 election. It occurred when my wife and another woman on the DTC (who has also since resigned) were away at a different meeting. When Mattson recommended that we endorse the Republican candidate, thereby guaranteeing there would be no election, I objected. I was the single vote against the decision. In July 2017, just months before the next election, Eno retired from his position. This allowed the remaining selectmen (Mattson and Parker Lord) to appoint someone to replace him. They elevated Mattson. His reasons for directing the DTC to endorse Eno in 2015 became abundantly clear. It was a manipulation of the democratic process, through which a select few could determine Lyme leadership without—or regardless of—the outcome of an election.

In addition to becoming First Selectman, Mattson (and Lord) appointed an unelected Republican, Mark Wayland, to fill the empty role of Third Selectman, as had been prearranged in the deal. Wayland mounted an effort to unseat Mattson in November 2017, but lost by a vote of 590 to 425. Eno endorsed Mattson in that election. Lord maintained his position as Second Selectman. The new DTC chair, John Kiker, became Third Selectman. In the years that followed, however, the Republican Town Committee (RTC) fell in line with the scheme. Both town political committees did not run candidates to compete in 2019, guaranteeing that Mattson, Kiker, and Lord remained in office, with Kiker ascending to Second Selectman. In 2021, the RTC returned the favor by cross-endorsing Mattson for First Selectman. At the time, David Lahm was the RTC chair. With the retirement of Lord, Lahm ran unopposed to become Third Selectman.

This agreement between the town committees not to hold honest elections extended even further. In July 2022, eight months after he commenced a two-year term, Mattson announced his retirement. His public explanation for doing so was a desire to travel and to play golf (Crowley 2022). At no point did he accept responsibility for running for office when he clearly had no intention of finishing his term. On cue, Mattson’s retirement allowed the remaining selectmen (Kiker and Lahm) to appoint someone to the position. They elevated Lahm and installed an unelected Democrat, Kristina White, Executive Director of the Lyme Land Conservation Trust, as Third Selectwoman. As I write these lines, two of the three leaders of Lyme hold positions to which they were not elected, and it is the second time in five years such an undemocratic outcome has occurred.⁷ All of these figures will prove important to the subject matter of this article.

I raise awareness of this recent local history both to be responsible to the scholarship and to invite commentary from folklorists about doing the kind of critical work that Prahlad encourages. If we follow Prahlad’s advice, White folklorists will inevitably find themselves at odds with those with whom they were once genial and welcomed. It will also require facing ugly truths about one’s own privilege. In this specific case, I am now a critic of a community that I was able to join precisely due to my White and middle-class privilege to relocate. I recognize that privilege signaled to the political establishment in Lyme that I was favorably disposed to their way of life. Indeed, I was so inclined for some time, until their practices created enough friction with my ethical commitments that I rejected their folk culture. Still, even in breaking away from the Lyme community and its customs, I had an advantage in the form of friends, students, activists, and colleagues whose commitment to social justice provided a countering demand.

That realization leaves me sympathetic—but not empathetic—to others in Lyme who feel the same gravitational pull of its emergent folk culture. I still do not believe that the majority of its residents are ill intended, even as some are inclined toward personal gain at the expense of less fortunate others. I am of the opinion that like most White people, they are unaware of their privilege and act to keep it from consciousness. Indeed, one way Whiteness works for White people is that it offers the promise of community acceptance with a concurrent expectation that one should desire such approval. It is my opinion, furthermore, that the prevailing traditions of White wealth as now established in Lyme reward people for professing an attitude against, but not taking action in opposition to, racism or classism.

Any revelation of underlying prejudice will instigate disruptions. This is especially true in communities (such as Lyme and much of affluent White New England) where a tradition of propriety demands silence regarding unpleasant realities. Yet if I understand Prahlad’s critical perspective, that is precisely what he asks us to do: be disruptive. To do otherwise—to be “polite”—is to allow an oppressive system to remain in place, hiding in plain sight. The greater question is how to be disruptive in a manner that fits the situation. With respect to the folk culture of White wealth in Lyme—that is, to a communal formation that does not overtly proclaim racism or classism as a unifying element—I would argue in favor of immanent critique. Immanent critique is a form of analysis that holds community members accountable to their actions in relation to the values they themselves publicly declare. That is the approach of this essay.

As I move to that critique, permit me to admit it is highly unlikely that this essay will change a single mind of those currently in Lyme who intend to continue their tradition of White wealth. The decision to compile these observations is in part to record the social conditions and those involved for posterity. In that sense, this essay is a tactical move. In the same way that so many New England town histories supply a literal whitewashing in the form of heroic narratives about their founders and prominent citizens, contemporary wealthy Whites care about stains on their reputation that comes from a disclosure of their privilege. Any attempt to render visible their invisible power disturbs their sense of decorum, entitlement, and assumed righteousness. A critical folklore study of the culture of White wealth can be instrumental, then, for denaturalizing those norms of propriety and for remembering the actors in perpetuity, in the hopes of stirring others to positive social change.

A Critique of the Lyme DTC’s Public Statements as Soft Racism

The Lyme DTC did create a Facebook and Twitter page and revise their newsletters in later 2016 after my wife and I resigned. As of this writing, the Twitter (now X) account @LymeCtDems appears to be inactive; there have been no updates since August 31, 2017. Of the 773 tweets available for public viewing, there is only a handful directly concerning race: one each on #BlackWomenAtWork and Black History Month, a statement by Bros4America that Hillary Clinton would be reliable on race issues, and a statement by Bridge Project against White nationalism. Although there are a few retweets against Trump’s Muslim ban and other actions regarded as evidence of the former president’s and his supporters’ racism, there are no tweets or retweets about any racial violence throughout the United States or counterprotests, including those of Black Lives Matter throughout 2016 and 2017. The predominant number of tweets concern the 2016 election and health care, two issues of expressed concern to Lyme Democrats.

By my estimation, there are two tweets regarding Whiteness. The first was a retweet of Craig Rozniecki (@CraigRozniecki) on October 4, 2016, regarding the Vice-Presidential debate:

[Mike] Pence: “I’m so glad this backdrop isn’t like really really white, b/c then no one would be able to see me. I’d blend right in.”

The second was a retweet of Brian Fallon (@brianeefallon) on May 12, 2017, regarding Trump’s candidates to run the FBI:

Short list to run institution that’s only ever been run by white guys is whittled down to . . . a bunch of white guys.

This was the third to last posted tweet. It is unintentionally ironic given Mattson and Kiker’s longevity as selectmen and DTC chairs.

The Lyme DTC has produced fourteen newsletters since 2016.⁸ Although it is difficult to quantify the number of articles given the redesign, there is a consistent pattern: the fall issue concerns any upcoming elections (state and national on even-numbered years, local on odd-numbered years) and the spring or summer issue concerns other “Lyme Matters,” following the newsletter’s title. The four issues preceding state and national elections do not provide significant insight into local customs, but in two cases (fall 2018 and fall 2020), a candidate was praised for a commitment not to raise taxes, a position that is not a universal Democratic value. Another candidate received accolades in the fall 2020 issue for his commitment to racial justice, the single time mention of race occurs in any of the newsletters.

The three newsletters preceding the town elections are quite revealing of the worldview shared by the DTC. In fall 2017, Mattson and Kiker announced their campaign for selectmen on the grounds that they “want Lyme to stay the way it is—beautiful, historic, and sparsely developed” (3). This same issue prints Ralph Eno’s endorsement, who advises that Mattson’s “experience will be key to preserving Lyme’s cherished rural character” (1), and Kiker’s promise “to help ensure [Lyme] stays the beautiful gem of a town that it is” (2). In 2019, the newsletter recommended all candidates for town positions based on their desire for “Lyme to stay the beautiful, historic place that it is” (1), and in the specific section for the Planning and Zoning Commission, the DTC applauded candidates for their commitment to “enable Lyme to maintain its identity as a beautiful, historic, little town” (2). There was no commentary on the selectmen as they ran uncontested. The theme returned in the 2021 endorsements, which twice hailed all running for wanting Lyme “to stay the beautiful, historic place that it is” (1 and 3), and specific candidates for Planning and Zoning for their pledge “to maintain [Lyme’s] identity as a beautiful, historic municipality” (2). This pledge to keep Lyme “the way it is” is not coded language; it is an overt, public statement of intention to maintain the status quo, which in Lyme entails Whiteness and concentrated generational wealth.

That public commitment to a sparse population echoes in the predominant themes of the non-election issues, which overwhelmingly highlight land preservation and open spaces in the town, including the fact that more than half of Lyme is now under conservation. Of the roughly forty articles published over the span of seven years, at least seventeen directly concern hiking trails in town, the Lyme Land Conservation Trust and related outdoor organizations, community agriculture, and natural phenomena (invasive species and pollinators). The issue published in summer 2020 compared the 1918 flu in Lyme with the COVID-19 pandemic and observed that no one died in the town during the flu, presumably due to the sparsely populated nature of the then farming community.⁹ Not a single mention of any racial matter appears in these pages.

The preponderance of essays in these newsletters celebrates the town’s light development, conservation of land, and opportunities for residents to enjoy those natural resources. All of these issues were published during a period of momentous unrest in the United States over racial injustice, with subsequent mass protests and calls for social change, including throughout Connecticut. To read an issue of “Lyme Matters,” however, one would find a total absence of that climatic movement and struggle for civil rights. They abundantly demonstrate that from the perspective of the Lyme DTC, what matters to the residents of Lyme is the protection of their access to open spaces for recreation and the preservation of the town as a place of low taxes, low population, and a “rural” nature, albeit one peppered by the aforementioned homes with a median value of $576,100.

The Facebook page follows an analogous pattern (LymeCTDems, n.d.). Of the roughly five hundred and twenty viewable posts since October 2020, a slim number concern race. These include a reposting in February 2021 of the Biden presidential administration’s statements during Black History Month, a comment by President Biden against systemic racism posted on January 27, and some advertisements for a local candidate’s unsuccessful campaign for state senator that highlighted his commitment to antiracism. There are only two notable exceptions to this dearth, published in May 2021. Both were reposts from The Day (the regional newspaper): an editorial and a letter to the editor criticizing the First and Second Selectmen of Old Lyme (both Republicans) for refusing to debate a proposal by the Third Selectwoman (a Democrat) to adopt a declaration against racism as a public health crisis.¹⁰ Yet the posts for candidates during the 2021 election routinely culled language from the newsletters and endorsed their intention for Lyme to remain a “beautiful and historic” town.

The absence of racial matters in their public statements does not prove that the Lyme DTC is a racist organization, but taken with the few issues they do admit, it demonstrates a prevailing tradition of soft racism. “Soft racism” is a term increasingly found in journalism, sociology, and education studies. It invokes a nuanced and subtle expression of racism, one that is purportedly “not racist” because it not an expression of violence or “malicious intent” (Pulido 2000, 13). Soft racism is frequently conducted by those who self-identify as being not racist, often by comparing themselves to presumably racist others (Rias 2018). The Lyme DTC provides a poignant example by contending that racist behavior is something committed by Republicans in Old Lyme and on the national stage. While that may be true, it is deflective; it prevents Democrats from having to redress their own contributions to a racist society. Furthermore, the Lyme DTC saw fit to condemn the actions of selectmen from another town without a subsequent call for adoption of the same measure in their own, where they had influence in the form of the First and Second Selectmen.¹¹ (I address their adoption of an equity resolution in the concluding section.) While the DTC might argue that they passed along a few tweets or posts during Black History Month in 2021, the lack of sustained expressions of solidarity raises an issue of sincerity. Finally, the promotion of a tone-deaf pledge to keep Lyme “the way it is”—coupled with a staunch commitment to policies of land preservation that historically prevent nonwhites and the economically less advantaged from access to the town—begs the question of their genuine concerns.

I directly address the issue of land preservation as a traditional practice of White wealth in Lyme in the next section. Here I would highlight that the patterns of that folk culture are apparent in the public statements expressed by the Lyme DTC. As I have asserted elsewhere, any critical folklore studies should probe the rhetorically constitutive nature of traditional practices; that is, not only do the folk make the lore, the lore makes the folk (Gencarella 2009). An investigation of White culture necessitates examination of local stories, practices, beliefs, rituals, and related traditional expressions of community as they contribute to larger social structures that maintain Whiteness and White dominance. Understood thusly, the Lyme DTC statements are not merely reflections of a worldview advanced by living members of the local community. They are rehearsals and admonitions for how to behave “properly” and how to adopt the folk identity associated with the town (although in reality with the town elite). These statements call attention to and forefront a particular way of being, one that demands fidelity to a tradition, namely keeping Lyme “the way it is.” That they are bereft of any reflection upon race, and especially upon White and wealth privilege, is deliberate. It is a constitutive enactment, a model for action. By refusing to admit racial disparity in the town, a Lyme resident garners assent to ignore it yet concurrently to claim the status of being nonracist. This is folklore— and in this specific case it is the folklore of White wealth—enshrined as political party activism and as care for the residents who currently possess certain property in the town, and perhaps exclusively for them.

A Critique of the Land Lyme Conservation Trust’s Public Statements

The Lyme Land Conservation Trust (LLCT) was formed in 1966. Its mission statement as of August 2023 is as follows:

To conserve in perpetuity for the public benefit Lyme’s natural, scenic, and historic land and water resources by: acquiring and stewarding real properties and conservation easements; supporting open space acquisition by third parties; facilitating scientific study and management of our resources; and educating the community regarding the natural world and the benefits of conservation.

LLCT accomplishes this task through two primary means. The first is fee properties, the acquisition of land through direct purchase by LLCT, which becomes the owner. Such property may become available to the public for recreation, usually in the form of hiking trails. The second is by facilitating conservation easements, in which private landowners establish a permanent conservation restriction on their property in exchange for tax breaks. LLCT manages and stewards the conservation easement, but the property remains private and may be passed on through generations or sold, albeit with the easement in perpetuity. Conservation easements usually do not permit public access, and never without the expressed consent of the landowner. According to their website, LLCT oversees 42 fee properties totaling 882 acres and 70 conservation easements totaling 2,252 acres. By far LLCT serves private landowners who receive tax benefits for conservation easements (72% of conservation acres) more than properties that could be available to the public (28%).¹²

Before I provide a critique of LLCT public statements, permit me to present a guiding distinction from the previous section. I recognize the importance of judging a nonprofit organization based on the specific task to which it is dedicated. Hence, although I regard the failure of the Lyme DTC to address race and wealth inequality as a serious liability, I do not hold LLCT to the same standards, given their mission statement does not include such a commitment. LLCT is, however, answerable to its history, traditions, accessibility, and future, and therefore open to examination for its contribution to a culture of White wealth in the town. This is especially so now that its Executive Director was appointed to the leadership role of Third Selectwoman without a democratic election.

I appraised fourteen annual reports (from 2008–2022) and seventy-seven newsletters (from 1986–2023) produced by LLCT. A very high percentage concern information about land acquisitions, trails, wildlife and flora, the status of preserves, local events including the Tour de Lyme (an annual bike race) and Earth Day celebrations, and various programs. Less frequent but still routine is advice for assisting wildlife and the histories or biographies of properties, donors, or LLCT volunteers. There are messages from the president of the Board of Trustees, but other commentary is infrequent. As expected, these public statements provide a wealth of information relevant to the mission of the organization.

Some noteworthy contributions speak to the concern of this essay, particularly in the newsletters from the late twentieth century and first decade of the twenty-first. The “President’s Letter” in the inaugural newsletter of March 1986, for example, published a statement from an earlier LLCT pamphlet:

Lyme is unique. Situated on the only unspoiled estuary on the East Coast, it is one of the last if not the last shoreline towns in Connecticut relatively unscathed by industrial or suburban development. Its rolling hills, river vistas, and rural environment offer delight and refreshment to all who live or visit here. But we must not take it for granted that Lyme will remain forever the same. Population pressures have significantly altered the character of the towns surrounding Lyme. The Connecticut River Estuary Regional Planning Agency calculates that Lyme will approximately double in size in 25 years. Lyme will not maintain its unique qualities in the face of pressures if we idly stand by.

We cannot stop the clock and halt development, nor should we attempt to do so. But by regulating the pattern and pace of development and by exercising foresight to set aside lands for conservation, we still have the chance to preserve the character of our town. Success will depend, above all else, on the strength of the community for numerous public and private agencies providing leadership in planning and conservation efforts.

(1–2)

Building upon that sentiment, then president, Rufus Barringer, reiterated that it would require “vision and effort on all of our parts” to sustain the “charm” of Lyme (2).

The argument of this statement is not environmental protection. It is, rather, the preservation of the character of the town in the face of increasing populations. It relies upon a rhetoric of alarm that more outsiders will move to Lyme. Indeed, the lead article of this first newsletter described the transfer of the rights to divide the Czikowsky property to LLCT. Therein Frederick Gahagan, the land trust’s counsel, bluntly admits that the transfer “is simply a way to insure that the density of development does not increase” (1).

The June 1987 newsletter similarly cited a previous public statement, the original invitation to Lyme property owners to join the charter membership of the LLCT in 1967:

What makes Lyme the place you want to live?

It is because you and your father and grandfather grew up here and Lyme means “home” to you?

Or were you trying to escape from the city noise and dirt and suburban crowdedness to real country—with open skies, clean snow, and space to breathe in?

Or do you feel—like most of us—that Nature and man have worked together to make our town one of the loveliest spots in New England?

Beautiful, natural country like ours is not stripped, bulldozed, and gobbled up overnight. It is nibbled at. One day you see a wooded hillside scraped bare. Then a rich, teeming marsh is buried under debris and covered with tar. Suddenly a peaceful pre-Revolutionary pasture sprouts rows of split-levels. A useless upland bog that has been feeding your well for years disappears under fill.

We all know that our town, inevitably, must face change. But change need not be ugly, and it must not be allowed to devour our irreplaceable wetlands and the gifts of beauty that Nature has lavished on Lyme.

(2)

It is a sentiment (highly romanticized) that expresses a greater awareness of environmental stewardship, but it closes with a consonant tone as found in the aforementioned pamphlet. Having noted that LLCT can assist residents to “make the gifts we want to make to our town and obtain the tax benefits that the gifts justify,” it concludes:

Looking at it cold-bloodedly, won’t the Lyme Trust help protect our property values by protecting both our water resources and the rural and residential character of Lyme?

(2)

A contemporary letter by Bill Moore, one of the founders of LLCT, accompanies this historical one. Therein Moore identifies key issues. First is land use and property taxes—he observes, for example, that Lyme had the lowest property taxes in the state in 1982 and remained the fifth lowest. Second is the concern that land in Lyme would be used for commercial development. Third is the need to create moderately priced homes in Lyme to allow “younger people to settle here” (3). Moore is deserving of praise for his call for residents to become active in their town, but his letter stresses the cultural makeup of Lyme over environmentalism.

One can praise resistance to unbridled development and exploitation of natural resources and scrutinize that the expressed values of LLCT in its earliest manifestations included keeping property taxes low, property values high, and maintaining the “rural character” of the town—by which members meant a desire to see farmland, not to be employed as working-class farmers or agricultural laborers. Consequently, LLCT leadership established a practice geared toward the preservation of the culture of White wealth that continues to this day. The dearth of articles in the early newsletters concerning environmental stewardship or nature itself—and the absolute absence of commentary regarding potential environmental racism or classism— underscores that developing tradition, which has now become part of the lore of the Lyme elite.

Other statements followed that foster a rhetoric concerning the “character” of the town. Hiram Maxim, a local historian and president of LLCT Board, published an editorial in June 1994 that called for the education of Lyme residents regarding the “environmental and economic benefits” of land preservation through a highly questionable route. He took recourse to a heroic narrative of English colonialists, one that utterly ignored the historical presence and forced removal of Indigenous people as well as the institution of slavery in the town:

Ever since the first settlers moved into Lyme over 300 years ago, the land has supported a variety of life-sustaining resources. Trees were harvested for houses, ships, heat and cooking. Large fields were cleared to grow crops and provide animal pasture. Millions of stones taken from the fields were assembled into miles of walls to mark property boundaries and contain domestic animals. The many clean, clear streams teemed with salmon, shad, and trout while also providing water power energy for mills. Wool from the many sheep farms was woven into a variety of textile fabrics for family use or resale and many other products were produced from working the land.

With few other resources available, these settlers and their succeeding generations understood the value of the land making up the Town of Lyme as they depended on it for all of the essentials of their lives. Caring for their land was an instinctive attitude. In today’s world, it’s very important that we do not lose that instinctive attitude for land stewardship. Lyme is very fortunate to have many families with generations of connectedness with their land. They should be encouraged to preserve this heritage of steward-ship. Many other families moved here because they treasure the rural open space fabric of fields, rolling hills and clear streams. They also have acquired a responsibility for land stewardship.

(1)

Although this undisguised use of stories that link contemporary landowners with White colonialists was not routinely employed in the newsletter, kindred tropes should not be ignored, especially as they are found in any expressed desire to keep Lyme “the way it is.”

When Anthony Irving, a trained ecologist, became president of the Board in 1995, the newsletter increasingly highlighted environmental issues in accompaniment to standard acclamations for the economic benefits of conservation easement for landowners. In his appeals, for example, Irving identified a spiritual dimension in the connection to nature (October 1996), but such calls were balanced with expressions of alarm for population growth and articles on tax benefits.¹³ Irving was well aware of the potential misgiving and public perception of LLCT. In the Spring 2002 newsletter, he responded to an editorial in The Day that advocated for residential development throughout eastern Connecticut. He applauded that the town of Lyme resisted such growth. Irving continued:

The impression in some quarters is that Lyme is elitist for this attitude. But is it elitist to want to protect something that is valuable and increasingly rare? There just aren’t many places like Lyme left in the state. There should be. And not just for us to enjoy. All lands in Lyme owned by the land trust, state, town and most Nature Conservancy properties are open to the public. So instead of providing a mall or other commercial conveniences, our town, and some of our neighbors, are the protectors and maintainers of the natural landscape. This is an important contribution to a region that seems to equate growth with success. Putting a high priority on land protection ensures that we do not become another piece of the regional sprawl puzzle. And not only do open spaces not require municipal services or funds, they last forever.

(2)

Irving’s plea is an eloquent summation of the stakes of land preservation in Lyme. It defines the values to judge LLCT on their own terms. If the public utilizes these spaces, LLCT’s efforts are not elitist. If the public does not utilize them, LLCT is elitist—and I think it is safe to assume that the elitism in question signifies the preservation of the culture of White wealth.

The problem, regrettably, is that LLCT has never conducted demographic studies of its public land use. It possesses no data regarding the racial identity, economic status, and percentage of nonresidential visitations to fee properties managed by the land trust. It also does not collect on the availability of conservation easements to the public or the requests to utilize those easements.¹⁴ LLCT therefore cannot provide evidence of the very standard by which it asks to be judged as a non-elitist organization. Its invocation of “the public” is, simply, a declaration that there are lands and hiking trails set aside for use without information regarding those who frequent the sites, those who do not, and those who feel welcome or discouraged from doing so. It is also unclear how any message of invitation could reach diverse audiences who are not already contributing members of LLCT or the Lyme community.

For those who contend that spaces dedicated to the general public and the common good ought to demonstrate actual diversity in attendance and use, LLCT’s claims fall woefully short. What is known, however, is that LLCT has from its inception promised tax benefits to landowners who assist in the project of keeping Lyme sparsely populated and “the way it is.” Even Irving in his final letter as president in spring 2004 returned to a rhetoric of tax benefits, retaining the “rural landscape,” and resisting development of the population growth lest Lyme “not resemble the town we see today” in fifty years (3).

In 2007, LLCT marked its fortieth anniversary. The August newsletter published a statement that is extremely helpful for an analysis of the folk culture of White wealth. It contains remarks delivered by Frederick Gahagan, the aforementioned lawyer (whose mother was one of LLCT founding members). The full draft of his speech is available at the LLCT website (Gahagan 2007). It deserves to be read in its entirety, but the particularly relevant passages are the following. His opening includes the claim:

When I speak to Land Trusts or conservation groups around the State and I tell people where I am from, I discover what we have done here in Lyme is held in awe by most other land trusts and communities. Why? Because over 40% of our town is in protected open space and we are continually building on that!

In short, other land trusts and communities are amazed by what we have accomplished because:

• • we have done what they all wish they could have done, and

• • we have, so far, stayed ahead of the onslaught of modernity.

Having praised that “the Land Trust, the Town’s leaders, our regulatory commissions, and individual donors all act in support of conservation action,” Gahagan identifies what he calls “Lyme blessings,” the successful strategies for conversation in the town, the result of which:

And then we are blessed, blessed with a number of things all of which, I believe, were necessary components of our success.

• • We are blessed with resources of national and international significance.

• • We are blessed with our landowners, who protected over 2000 acres of land, by gift, before there was ever money involved or it was the “Lyme” thing to do

• • We are blessed with two farmers who were willing to sell their development rights to preserve farmland and a way of life.

• • We are blessed with town leaders who had an open mind and were willing to see that conservation action was necessary to protect our town budgets and our traditional community values.

  All this resulted in something wonderful—what I call “community conservation consciousness” which affirms and values the protection of our conservation resources. And so others came to live here who shared those values.

  Looking back these 40 years, it seems that we are blessed with a truly endangered phenomenon in the modern, east coast of the United States—a common ethos: a sense of who we are, what is important to us and, most important, a real commitment to take the responsibility to make it work—to live out our values.

  (Italics and bold in original.)

Gahagan concludes:

This common ethos leads to another rare thing in an old, small Yankee town—a consensus where old and new citizens can have a meeting of the minds and share a common ethos.

The board you elected today reflects this. It has:

• • new members to our community, who bring a life time of experience and skills, as well as economic resources, and

• • old members of our community with contacts and history in the community to make sure that the Land Trust stays on course.

  What binds them all is their attachment to that Lyme ethos. One of our current board members who is “new” to Town recently told me that our sense of community is so strong that this is the first place that has truly felt like home since the town where he grew up and, so, it is a community he is committed to supporting and giving to. Another new board member is our first board member to represent 3 generations of the same family.

  In close I would like to say that, what we can only hope for is more of the same and I have high hopes for this because of the strength of the foundation you all built. A foundation based on a love for our community, a love for our landscape, and a commitment to protect and nurture a sustaining relationship with the land.

Gahagan’s remarks contribute to the folkloric aspect of land preservation in Lyme. The words “public” and “environment” are nowhere.¹⁵ The speech is an encomium to the members of LLCT and Lyme residents who opt to preserve land, without justification for why such preservation is a good, although its benefits have something to do with resisting “the onslaught of modernity” and potentially making other communities jealous. More directly, Gahagan demonstrates that the practice has become an entrenched tradition and marker of Lyme identity. It is the “Lyme ethos.” Again, he is not precise regarding what that means, but it entails the protection of “traditional community values” and the town budget. His speech is, therefore, a performance of folk identity and a constitutive rhetoric for that culture. It further erases any awareness that such an ethos engenders White wealth and privilege. Expectations are for newcomers to adopt this worldview, and those who do gain the reward of a sense of community, but Gahagan never recognizes the racial and financial barriers erected against others who might wish to move into the town.

Gahagan’s argument buries Irving’s sensible barometer for judging the success of LLCT and land preservation in Lyme. Instead of adhering to a goal of public use, Gahagan announces a cultural victory. His is the rhetoric of combat. Audiences may agree and access the folk culture of the town or disagree and be outliers. In assessing the purported strength of the tradition, however, he admits its fragility if an undergirding ideological commitment does not continue to thrive. Hence, Gahagan proposes that the proper way forward warrants the preservation of Lyme “the way it is” lest it be vanquished by a different perspective. He does not acknowledge that upholding such a tradition prolongs Lyme as a White racial project, the possession of White wealth, as well as a continuation of environmental racism and classism.

In the fifteen years since Gahagan’s speech, LLCT and its allies have succeeded in preserving over half of the land in Lyme. The recent president of the Board, John Pritchard, has adopted a public relations strategy that balances awareness of the environmental benefits with the economic ones for donors.¹⁶ He also favors a nostalgic rhetoric, lauding the premise that if the artists from the late 1800s and early 1900s returned to Lyme today it would remarkably appear as it did in their day. That is as true about racial diversity as it is about the landscape, but Pritchard does not concede that point. In addition to a nostalgic appeal, he routinely invokes the character of the town. In the Autumn 2013 newsletter, for example, he inquires:

We think of the benefits of preservation mainly in terms of conservation: preserving the heritage and character of our town; maintaining Lyme’s habitat for local indigenous wildlife (see the article on bobcats in this newsletter) and for the survival of species far from Lyme (see the story on river herring on the cover); and preserving the views we cherish. But would we value our homes and our residence here nearly as much if our town were to lose its rural character?

When you make your decision on membership this year, please think of the benefits we all reap from the work of the Land Trust, and consider increasing your tax deductible contribution. You will be making an investment in your community’s ability to preserve its quiet country charm.

(3)

The preservation of the community’s “quiet country charm” has become the good in itself, an admission of agreement with a cultural value rather than a solution to a social or environmental problem. In the overarching rhetoric of LLCT, land preservation has become the defining practice and hence the essential lore of the Lyme folk who matter.

The Lyme Open Space Controversy of 2021

In 2021, a minor controversy erupted that provides another glimpse into the cultural aspect of land preservation and White wealth in Lyme. In April, the Republican-controlled Board of Finance proposed a cut in the 2021–22 budget to cap the town’s open space reserve fund from $1,000,000 to $500,000. The town holds this money for the immediate purchase of property deemed valuable. Unlike conservation easements utilized by private citizens, land purchased in this manner could become public open space, although it rarely happens in practice. The Lyme Open Space Commission (LOSC) itself identifies on its website that a major benefit of such a strategy is lower taxes, as committed open space keeps families from moving into town:

The acquisition of large open space tracts also represents a tool for maintaining low property taxes. Two-thirds of every property- tax dollar goes toward the education of our children. Since the school costs for each additional new child far exceed the property tax received from each new house added in town, the preservation of open space avoids the building of new subdivisions and any associated increase in school costs.¹⁷

(LOSC, n.d.)

The motives of the Board of Finance were not to protest the current amount or future increase of open space in Lyme. The Republican chair of the committee, Dan Hagan, expressed vigorous approval for continued acquisition of land. He clarified that the reason for the cap was their belief that the town held too much taxpayer money in reserve, which could pay down debt and retain low or lower taxes into the future (Regan 2021). The Board of Selectmen objected to this reduction, as did numerous citizens who attended Board of Finance meetings, several of whom were notable members of LLCT. Some residents sent letters in support of raising the cap to its original amount. They expressed different but consistent reasons for doing so ranging from protection of the watershed, to restraining development, to guarding the town’s character. Many proclaimed that they had moved to Lyme precisely to enjoy its open space. The Board vote to raise the cap resulted in a deadlock (Democrats in favor and Republicans opposed) and the matter proceeded to the agenda of the annual town meeting in May. In the intervening weeks, the Lyme DTC and selectmen led the charge for the restoration of the cap. The Lyme DTC Facebook page actively encouraged people to “Save Lyme’s Open Space Fund.” An estimated two hundred and twenty-five residents attended the town meeting and restored the cap on a vote of 202 to 10. Later that year, the Republicans lost control of the Board of Finance and Alan Sheiness, who is also the treasurer of LLCT, became the new chair.

The letters submitted to the Board of Finance reveal the entrenched mindset of the folk culture of White wealth in Lyme (Lyme BOF 2021). Several echo one another in rhetorical composition and talking points, perhaps a coordinated effort. A common refrain was that the higher cap would prevent the town (were it to purchase land) from having to secure a bond to repay with interest by raising taxes. One resident, David Walker, suggested that “the open space of Lyme is an increasing factor in the town’s identity” and “a core mission of this town” (2021, 4). Another, Rob Roach, contended that “we all have a vested interest in protecting the beautiful rural character of our town” (7). A third, Jacqueline Shluger, testified that the reduction of the cap did not “fall in line with what I believe are the mainstays of our town: historic preservation, land preservation, and community” (7). James and Sallie Schwartz offered that the preservation of open space “benefits the Town tremendously by preserving what make the Town special, serves a crucial environmental function, while also helping to keep tax rates low well into the future” (8).

Greg Miller pressed the matter in a slightly different manner. “While there may be other competing interests, including affordable housing,” he wrote, “it is also clear, at least to me, that these open spaces—beautifully maintained at no cost to the town or its residents—are a powerful attraction in bringing new residents here as well as an enduring pleasure for those who have spent their lives here” (Lyme BOF 2021, 8). Miller averred that open spaces protect “the ecological integrity of the Lower Connecticut River Estuary,” but in the same sentence affirmed that a “lower density” (that is, of the population) “is an obvious benefit to all of us in Lyme” (8). John Pritchard, writing on behalf of LLCT, repeated that “more remains to be done in order to ensure that the quiet, rural and historic character of the Town continues to be respected” and that the open space was “what we all love about Lyme” (10).

The notion that Lyme is a “special” place was a frequent theme in these letters. But special in what way? The official comments of the Lyme Open Space Committee in favor of raising the cap are illustrative in the order in which they list the benefits for the town. Economic sustainability and property value are first:

Numerous studies demonstrate that compared to residential development open space requires minimum town services such as infrastructure and maintenance costs nor do open spaces increase school enrollments. In fact, Lyme’s open spaces contributes to our low tax rate. In addition, our forests sequester and store greenhouse gases, maintain water quality by filtering pollutants in runoff and recharge groundwater supplies contributing to the land’s economic value.

(Lyme BOF 2021, 12)

Social sustainability follows:

By retaining our connections with the land we preserve our cultural heritage and history. Open spaces contributes to our feeling of place and fosters rural qualities such as aesthetics, recreation opportunities, spiritual connections with the land and traditional uses while protecting this legacy for future generations. Lyme’s open spaces define our town character.

(12)

Biological and ecological sustainability are third.

It is not difficult to poke holes in these claims as the committee provided no documentation of the “numerous studies” and did not endeavor to explain how a town that has seen a precipitous rise of wealthy outsiders relocating to it in recent decades preserves its cultural heritage. More pressing is that order, which encapsulates the rhetorical pattern employed for decades in statements favoring land preservation. Put simply, the call hinges upon financial benefits to current property owners rather than environmental protection. This reveals, I would argue, the fundamental coordinating lore of the folk culture of White wealth in Lyme. It is an opinion naturalized through consistent use and repetition to the point of becoming a tenet of belief. It is a tradition that demarcates insiders from outsiders to the community.

None of these letters contains any reference to the impact of land preservation on the racial composition and wealth concentration of the town. There may have been some awareness of that concern— and perhaps some anxiety—in the letter of Wendolyn Hill, the town’s open space coordinator and a board member of LLCT. Although much of her argument in favor of raising the cap echoed the sentiments expressed by others, hers was one of the few that emphasized the protection of the environment as a good in itself. Her penultimate paragraph, however, gives reason for pause:

I have always been very proud of the town of Lyme and its residents for our strong unity in protecting our natural and cultural resources. Especially during this time of physical isolation, people have seen more appreciation for the preserves than ever. Land preservation is for the greater good. The Town of Lyme’s preserves enhance the quality of life for everyone regardless of status. It is the opposite of elitist. The Town of Lyme owns and protects Hartman Park, Mt. Archer Woods, Young Preserve, and Selden Landing. The Town owns Jewett Preserve and Czikowsky Hill with The Nature Conservancy.

(Lyme BOF 2021, 15)

It is unclear if Hill had in mind a specific charge of elitism leveled at the practice or if it was made as a general argument. Most (but not all) of the properties she named offer public hiking trails. Her comment recalls Irving’s standard, but as before, it is wholly unsubstantiated, an expression of desire rather than an accurate representation of collected data and evidence. Furthermore, it must be understood in relation to others, which emphasize the continuance of low taxes by keeping people—markedly schoolchildren—out of the town.

A frequent refrain in the letters advocating the cap restoration was that the Board of Finance violated the spirit of the recent Plan of Conservation and Development (PoCD). Connecticut General Statues require that each municipality prepare or amend and adopt a PoCD at least once every ten years to be eligible for discretionary state funding. The PoCD is a survey of residents regarding their preferences for conservation and development. Lyme conducted surveys in 1963, 1989, 2000, and 2014. As defenders of the higher cap correctly cited, there was overwhelming demand for a continuation of conservation in the 2014 survey. Indeed, the report acknowledged that there was prodigious support for a continuation of land preservation and community character that had not changed since 1963. The 2014 survey further underscored the determination of Lyme residents not to provide affordable housing. The primary concerns were the protection of the rural landscape and open space.

A mere cursory examination of the Lyme PoCD reveals a rhetorical language of invested romanticizing. The opening of the document, “A Vision of Lyme,” opines:

Lyme is a quiet rural community. Scattered homes lie among the wooded hills and along the clear streams flowing down to the coves and marshes of the Connecticut River estuary. Sailors return to Hamburg Cove after time on the water.¹⁸ Life in Lyme has continued to have a timeless, unhurried quality. There is an aged, well-worn character to its landscape, with houses and the few commercial and civic uses fitting comfortably on the land, even with the addition of the new town office building and new library. Lyme was once a busier place, with quarrying, lumbering, fishing, and farming providing employment for Lyme families, but time has removed all but the traces of such activity. Through the ups and downs of the economy during the time since the 2001 Plan, Lyme has continued to remain quietly “off the beaten path.” According to respondents to both surveys, they intend to keep it that way.

(LPZC 2015, 1)

Proponents of open space who cited the PoCD did not reveal several details that contextualize the findings. In 2000, 420 surveys returned in a population of 2,016 residents, or roughly 20% of the town. In 2014, only 300 surveys returned in a population of 2,406 people, or roughly 12% of the town. Additionally, 75% of those respondents were from the two areas (Hamburg and Hadlyme) most closely associated with wealthy homes; 25% were associated with areas (Rogers Lake and Grassy Hill) of more concentrated populations and houses, including those of relative lower income. 75% of 300 is 225 people, the approximate number of those in attendance at the town meeting who restored the cap. While they deserve recognition for their civic involvement, that number hardly constitutes a majority of opinions by residents. And it cannot be left unnoticed that the town meeting in 2021 was scheduled for 5:00 pm on a Wednesday and was adjourned at 5:53 pm, precisely when working families would have been on the commute home.

Increasingly civil rights organizations have begun to criticize the use of PoCDs throughout Connecticut, perceiving their role as a means to obstruct desegregation, affordable housing, and related social change that would alter the composition of entitled and wealthy White communities. Lyme is a primary example of how an ostensibly democratic practice is wielded to the benefit of the few. Although the survey was distributed by mail and available online, there was no active campaign on behalf of the town leaders to promote it. There was certainly no movement to encourage a high return rate and to visit those in the less wealthy areas. While the PoCD and the town meeting allow those who wish to participate to do so, such participation is no longer a robust part of the culture of the town. It is, instead, the prerogative and tool of those who intend to keep Lyme “the way it is.”

Final Analysis and Conclusion

The town of Lyme is and historically has been overwhelmingly White. Increasingly since the 1960s, it has been a destination for wealthy Whites to relocate, where they have found ample land to purchase and to preserve a “rural character.” That rural character is an aesthetic commitment to seeing farmlands and woodlands in certain sections of the town that are unpopulated by the mansions and other homes of the wealthy. It is not an economic commitment to the continuation of a farming lifestyle. Despite claims of a desire to protect the cultural heritage of the town, then, this commitment perpetuates the culture and traditions of those who relocated only a few decades ago. Lyme’s modern leadership, both Democratic and Republican, are committed to keeping a low tax rate, a low population, and a high median house value, and have utilized land preservation to accomplish those aims. Both political parties have forged a strong alliance with LLCT to foster additional conservation, made all the stronger by the appointment of Kristina White to Third Selectwoman.

At the onset of this essay, I raised the question of whether the contemporary situation in Lyme would demonstrate any substantial improvements regarding White self-segregation in Connecticut since Frank Lee’s groundbreaking investigation of the 1950s. Unfortunately, I see no evidence to suggest a genuine movement toward racial or class social justice. To the contrary, the town’s political parties and the LLCT, led by the selectmen and selectwoman, continue to practice— and to celebrate—traditions and policies that guarantee privileged isolation of White wealth. They have, furthermore, designed an anti-democratic system to assure that town elections will not interfere with a line of succession in leadership committed to such a goal.

In the specific context of White culture, the case of land preservation in Lyme also falls in line with observations made by Cheryl Harris (1993) that conceive of Whiteness as property; that is, Whiteness is not solely a racial category of identity but also a racialized privilege to enact property rights. This argument has found extension in George Lipsitz’s (2007) critique of the White spatial imaginary that influences contract law and deed restrictions in order to racialize space and “spatialize” race. It further resonates with Brenna Bhandar’s (2018) concept of racial regimes of ownership, the use of property law to uphold colonialist practices that designate certain groups as unfit (those historically marginalized) and certain groups as fit (those historically well-off) for property ownership. And as Prahlad contends, folklore (and folklore studies) can similarly be enlisted “to elevate whiteness, create and enforce class divisions, and accrue capital and power” (2021, 262), especially when traditional practices by Whites reinforce “their whiteness, power, and privilege by erasing it, thereby establishing it as the norm and as the only legitimate point of reference” (260).

That is precisely what is happening in Lyme. A tradition that emerged among wealthy Whites who relocated has now become a commonplace expression of culture for those who wish to be part of the community, even as that “community” is limited to the elite in the town. Part of this tradition involves righteousness signaling, an overt disavowal of racism that allows residents opportunities to claim the status of being nonracist without actually having to commit to address, redress, or thwart actually existing White supremacy. Such signaling thrives when certain groups decry the actions of others as racist without ever pondering their own complicity, as did the Lyme DTC regarding the presumed racism of the Old Lyme Republican selectmen. It can also exist in a more subtle fashion around issues of land preservation. It occurs, for example, when those who support conservation attempt to frame the issue solely as a matter of environmental concern and simply ignore the impact it had and continues to have on the racial composition and economic disparity in the town.

As a final point of comparison, in December 2020 the Lyme selectmen passed a resolution sponsoring the town’s participation in the Sustainable CT Municipal Certification program and nominating Kiker as the contact person. Sustainable CT is an independently funded nonprofit established in 2017 and managed by the Institute for Sustainable Energy at Eastern Connecticut State College. It is a voluntary program. It rewards points and levels (bronze and silver) for towns that complete recommended actions to increase sustainability initiatives, including the creation of inclusive communities. Certification does not guarantee any economic benefits for towns, but they may advertise their status in media and public relations messaging. As part of the certification process, a town must establish a Sustainability Committee. The current Lyme Sustainability Committee consists of eight Democrats, two Republicans, and two unaffiliated members; Kiker and Lahm are among the twelve (Kiker served as Vice Chair), and several others are involved in the leadership of LLCT (TLSC, n.d.). All participating towns must complete an Equity Toolkit, designed to teach teams how to create an inclusive process as they move toward certification (SustainableCT 2019). The Toolkit advises that towns “include more diverse voices in their decision making processes” and “identify barriers to access for underrep-resented residents in order to determine and respond to community priorities” (SustainableCT 2019, 3). It coaches sustainability teams to determine the diverse range of residents and bring them together by creating opportunities for dialogue.

The minutes of the Board of Selectmen meetings from December 2020 to August 2023 reveal only occasional engagement with Sustainable CT. There was another opportunity for the selectmen to take a stand for inclusivity, however, which they declined. The February 1, 2021 minutes, record that the Old Saybrook March for Justice approached them to embrace “advancing an antiracist agenda in Lyme.” The minutes continue:

The board agreed that such a resolution as requested, while supported by the board, rightfully should be addressed by the residents at a future town meeting and not by the Board of Selectmen.

(Lyme BOS 2021a)

Despite their promise, the resolution was not brought before the annual town meeting in May, the same meeting that restored the cap for the open space fund.

Indeed, at the April 5 meeting, the selectmen discussed the agenda for the town meeting and did not mention the antiracist agenda. Yet the minutes also reveal:

The board discussed and felt it was an appropriate time to reaf-firm its commitment to state law and town policy regarding equality and discrimination. The board approved a statement of the town’s beliefs and values in the conduct of the town boards and commissions and commits to equal treatment of all and will not discriminate against any person based upon race, religion, ancestry, gender, sexual orientation or identity, disability, or economic status. The Board of Selectmen pledge to conduct its business in adherence to these values and beliefs and encourages all boards and commissions to adopt the same pledge.¹⁹

(Lyme BOS 2021b)

A similar equity resolution passed at the July 6, 2021 meeting, drafted by the Sustainability Committee. It reads as follows:

RESOLUTION SUPPORTING EQUALITY FOR ALL

WHEREAS, racism and racial prejudice have been a part of our nation’s long history; and

WHEREAS, racism causes persistent discrimination and disparate outcomes in many areas of life, including housing, education, employment, health status and criminal justice; and

WHEREAS, our nation was founded on the principal that “All Men (and Women) Are Created Equal”; and

WHEREAS, discrimination against any group of people is contrary to our belief in, and our value of, equality; and

WHEREAS, discrimination in any form carries a social and economic cost; and

WHEREAS, Lyme considers itself a welcoming and inclusive community;

NOW THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED that the Board of the Selectmen of the Town of Lyme hereby:

Reaffirms our value and belief that All People are Created Equal.

Disavows any words or actions that would discriminate against any group of people,—including, but not limited to, discrimination based upon race, religion, ancestry, gender, sexual orientation or identity, disability, or economic status.

Declares that the Town and its government will act in ways to prevent and remove discrimination and will not accept discrimination in any form from its employees and volunteers.

Supports efforts in the community and schools that will educate on issues of equality.

Supports efforts to reduce economic inequality in the Town of Lyme.

(Lyme BOS 2021c)

The resolution is a noble expression. As with the April 5 pledge, however, it is merely an expression. Neither commits the town to any substantial action, unlike what would have happened if they answered the request to approve an antiracist agenda or included such an item for debate at the town meeting in May. These proclamations were ratified, moreover, by selectmen who overtly ran on preserving the status quo. They forwarded no commitment or specific proposals to increase a diverse population or develop public lands and encourage their use by visitors from diverse backgrounds, or to discourage practices such as private conservation easements that plays a significant role in maintaining the privilege of White wealth.

The resolution, furthermore, assists Lyme in earning points toward certification in the Sustainable CT program. In doing so, it reveals one of the underlying assumptions of that certification program, namely that communities consist of diverse groups of residents who seek recognition. That is the reality for many larger municipalities in the state. But in Lyme, where a tradition of land preservation has all but guaranteed White hegemony—witness the 2020 census—and where various practices discourage widespread democratic engagement thereby allowing the wealthy White to dictate policy, resolutions such as this provide a veneer of tolerance without requiring any actual social change toward racial or economic justice. It is yet another way that the town of Lyme can game the pretense of being welcoming to all while preserving exclusionary traditions of the folk culture of White wealth. To state it bluntly, it is all for show.²⁰

In conclusion, the town of Lyme and several key organizations reveal an elaborate folk culture at work. Their traditions accomplish the constitutive act of instantiating a community and providing a shared identity, but they also labor continuously to hide underlying systemic racism, White privilege and supremacy, and the dominance of White wealth. Their folklore includes land preservation practices, newsletters and online media, pledges and resolutions, voting rituals, antidemocratic tactics, editorials, celebratory speeches, and related public statements. Such performances are not conventional genres of folklore. Yet as Prahlad affirms, any critical analysis of White culture necessitates the rendering visible various machinations of Whiteness, including those that are not conventional genres. For such invisibility is power, literally to define who has the means to join the community. A commitment to this practice of power is inscribed in the town organizations that collaborate to preserve land, keep the population to a minimum, and maintain low taxes and high median home values. And it is the guiding worldview of those who wish to keep Lyme “the way it is,” even though “the way it is” is a fantasy wrought by White wealthy elites when they moved into the town, bought the land, and began to enact policies that impeded others from coming to enjoy the idyllic landscape.