Health advocates across the state brace for fallout from Medicaid cuts

Nick Youngson, Alpha Stock Images

Between 100,000 and 200,000 Connecticut residents could lose health insurance coverage from HUSKY Health, the state’s Medicaid program, over the coming years, severely impacting seniors, healthcare and eldercare facilities, particularly in rural communities.
That assessment from state Comptroller Sean Scanlon, which would impact an estimated one in five people, came on the heels of the passage of H.R.1, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act (OBBBA), signed into law on July 4.
On July 22, Scanlon released a “Special Examination” on the piece of legislation to aid businesses, individuals and families with information on how it will impact them and their lives in the months and years to come.
Included in the comptroller’s 36-page report is a section on Medicaid, in which the state comptroller outlined expected negative impact to not only Medicaid recipients, but also to providers who serve large Medicaid populations, such as hospitals, health care centers and nursing homes.
According to Scanlon, “A significant number of low-income residents in Connecticut are expected to lose eligibility for government benefits under the law and will feel the cuts acutely.”
Rural areas in particular are expected to be hard hit, according to state and local healthcare advocates.
Joanne Borduas, CEO of Community Health & Wellness Center with operations in North Canaan, Winsted and Torrington, noted that rural health centers already face significant and unique challenges.
“Add to this Medicaid cuts expected to be a trillion dollars over the next 10 years and these challenges become a crisis,” she noted. “When the patient population you care for is approximately 55 to 60 percent, Medicaid cuts can be devastating to both enrolled patients and providers who the program reimburses for care.”
She further noted that as people become uninsured, “that will make it increasingly difficult for patients to afford their care and for providers like us to be able to offer it.”
The cuts, Borduas explained, “will cause financial hardship, and potential health care staffing shortages at an even greater rate than what we see today, reduced access to care, inappropriate emergency room utilization and uncompensated care stays in our rural hospitals. This could lead to eliminating services and closing doors.”
Natashea Winters, director of programs and learning at the nonprofit Foundation for Community Health (FCH) in Sharon, said an estimated 187,000 state residents could lose their HUSKY health coverage from all federal changes.
“In Sharon, Salisbury, North Canaan, Canaan, Norfolk, Goshen, Kent, Warren and Cornwall, we could see roughly 1,000 people losing their health insurance.”
One in 25 live in a rural area
As of January, 928,986 people, or 22% of the state’s population, were enrolled in Medicaid/Children’s Health Insurance Program (CHIP), representing a 10% increase from pre-pandemic levels in February 2020, according to data from KFF Medicaid Enrollment and Unwinding Tracker.
Of that number, approximately one in 25, or 4% of Medicaid enrollees, live in a rural area.
HUSKY Health includes residents in the Northwestern CT region, where 20.8% of the population is aged 0-17 and 18.5% is aged 65 and older. The Medicaid program serves as a safety net for individuals and families below a certain income threshold who qualify.
That safety net, according to state and local health officials in the rural Northwest Corner, is now threatened.
OBBBA imposes an 80-hour per month work requirement for the first time, increases eligibility checks to twice annually instead of once and imposes new cost-sharing for HUSKY D enrollees.
Also, those with incomes above the federal poverty level will face new co-pays that could deter care, according to the state comptroller’s report.
Connecticut is expected to face $20 million to $50 million in new costs for technology, staffing, assessing and tracking work requirement compliance and exemptions, administering co-pays for certain enrollees and other staffing, the report notes.
Although the legislation does provide some implementing funding for states, the state share of benefit costs could drop by $50 million to $100 million per year due to lower enrollment, according to the state’s assessment.
Changes to work requirements
FCH’s Winters noted that changes to work requirements represent the biggest source of federal savings, followed by restricting provider taxes and repealing enrollment rules.
“To understand what’s coming, it’s worth looking at what happened when Arkansas implemented Medicaid work requirements in 2018. One in four people subject to the rules lost their health coverage within seven months,” she said, noting that “only one in 10 got their coverage back the next year.”
Most people didn’t lose coverage because they weren’t working, Winters noted. “They lost it due to paperwork and reporting problems. A third hadn’t heard about the new rules, and nearly half weren’t sure if they applied to them.”
“Limited internet access for online reporting, seasonal work, multiple part-time jobs without regular paystubs and caregiving responsibilities,” are challenges in our area, noted FCH’s Winters.
“Documenting 80 hours of work monthly can be difficult even for people who are working. When people lose health insurance, they still get sick and have emergencies,” she said.
“They show up at medical facilities without coverage, creating a ripple effect. Individuals delay care until conditions worsen and cost more to treat. Hospitals absorb uncompensated care costs, which get passed to everyone else through higher medical bills and insurance premiums.”
This directly affects our local hospitals, which serve many Medicare patients alongside those losing HUSKY coverage, noted Winters. “While the federal legislation includes a $50 billion rural hospital relief fund over five years, experts say this won’t offset the much larger Medicaid cuts.”
Medicaid beneficiaries may face reduced services or longer travel distances for care. “The new requirement takes effect in December 2026, giving us two years to prepare,” said Winters, noting that “the Arkansas experience shows what we can expect, and what our residents, healthcare providers and local officials should plan for now.”
Impact on Sharon Hospital
Sharon Hospital president Christina McCulloch described the facility as a “mission-driven organization, which takes all-comers, regardless of a person’s ability to pay for the care provided.”
She estimated that slightly more than 10% of patients are covered by Medicaid, according to a 2023 OHS report of the financial status of the hospital, the last audited financial year available.
“While our affiliation with Northwell Health best positions us to navigate the new legislation, these deep funding cuts will significantly affect rural hospitals like Sharon Hospital, which has long faced financial strain due to chronic underpayment by government payers,” said McCulloch.
“Leaders in Connecticut await further clarity on the rollout and implementation, but early indications point toward an anticipated annual impact of approximately $1 billion over the next decade. As always, we remain committed to welcoming all those who need our care, improving patient health, maintaining essential services and keeping our community informed.”
Threat to eldercare
Eldercare is also an area that could be severely impacted by OBBBA, according to health officials, particularly in the Northwestern Connecticut region, where 18.6% of the population is aged 65 and older.
At the Geer Village Senior Community in North Canaan, CEO Shaun Powell noted that it’s “business as usual for now, but I think all of that is going to be unfolding over the upcoming year or two.” He predicted, however, that for a number of people, and the facilities caring for them, “the impacts could be huge.”
In June, more than 700 long-term care advocates descended on Capitol Hill in opposition to the then-proposed H.B. 1 legislation.
According to a survey from the American Health Care Association (AHCA), an overwhelming majority of nursing home providers expressed deep concern about potential Medicaid reductions. More than one-quarter of respondents reported that reductions would force them to close.
The survey, conducted by AHCA in May 2025 of 363 nursing home providers, reflected growing concerns by long term care professionals across the country as congress debated the budget reconciliation package that included federal spending reductions to Medicaid.
Of the respondents, 52 percent identified as independent, single-facility operators and 60 percent are from rural areas.
Clif Porter, president and CEO of AHCA, said at the time that “any reductions to Medicaid would be devastating to seniors, caregivers and communities.”
Dee Salomon
A partially mowed meadow in early spring provides habitat for wildlife while helping to keep invasive plants in check.
Love it or hate it, there is no denying the several blankets of snow this winter were beautiful, especially as they visually muffled some of the damage they caused in the first place.There appears to be tree damage — some minor and some major — in many places, and now that we can move around, the pre-spring cleanup begins. Here, a heavy snow buildup on our sun porch roof crashed onto the shrubs below, snapping off branches and cleaving a boxwood in half, flattening it.
The other area that has been flattened by the snow is the meadow, now heading into its fourth year of post-lawn alterations. A short recap on its genesis: I simply stopped mowing a half-acre of lawn, planted some flowering plants, spread little bluestem seeds and, far less simply, obsessively pluck out invasive plants such as sheep sorrel and stilt grass. And while it’s not exactly enchanting, it is flourishing, so much so that I cannot bring myself to mow.
I have doubts:If I mow in the spring, would I kill all the overwintering insects? If I mow after the first frost, as suggested in a 2017 paper by the esteemed Kim Stoner, Ph.D., on the Connecticut AgriculturalExperiment Station website, would I lose the seed heads of yarrow, rattlesnake master and black-eyed Susan that birds are supposed to feed on in the winter?Paralyzed by indecision, I have not been able to bring myself to do even a partial cut.
I took a poll at a recent party attended by horticulturalists, environmentalists and garden experts. There was a consensus that early spring is indeed the best time to mow — early, before the ground-nesting birds like woodcock start nesting.I then called Mike Nadeau, whom I consider a meadow master of the Northwest Corner, and he concurred, following the Xerces Society meadow-mowing guidelines: mow in early spring when dandelions are in bloom.
“Xerces Society says this is the time most insects have hatched out of hollow stems and is between bird migrations.”
Nadeau’s experience has borne this out.
“I stress not to mow in fall because a dormant meadow is a haven for winter critters of all ilk.Birds use dormant plants for nesting materials, eat seeds, refuge — not to mention the other mammalian life that benefits from a meadow. An argument that has worked for me to discourage fall mowing is to describe a dormant meadow, with its myriad seed heads and foliage, as kinetic sculpture, especially with snowfall.It’s a beauty all its own.”
Nadeau mows a third to a half of a meadow each year, ideally using a flail mower, which chops vegetation into small pieces, helping foliage to resprout. The unmowed portion is left as a refuge for the animals that get evicted from their homes in the mowed area.
Stoner agrees with Mike to divide up the meadow and mowing different sections at different times. And she validates my mowing trepidation.
“There’s no perfect time. Any time you mow, you will be disturbing the habitat of some creature. If you don’t mow, you will have invasive plants creeping in, and eventually you will have trees,” she said.
“Best thing is to think about what your goals are — what creatures do want to encourage in your meadow? Then set the time of mowing to protect and enhance the habitat for those creatures.”
Additionally, Nadeau suggests that mown paths should be rerouted at least every two years to prevent rhizomatous grasses from establishing, which can grow into meadow edges and look unsightly. And the window is short:
“It’s too late to mow when spring birds arrive in earnest and new meadow growth is taller than 6 inches.”
Lights Out!
One of my favorite meadow benefits are the hundreds of fireflies that emerge in June. I am grateful for the lack of artificial light from neighbors (save for one house across the river with a persistent outside night light), so these creatures can shine brightly — and securely.
The organization DarkSky International relays the effect outdoor lights can have on fireflies: an almost 50% decrease in flashes per minute, which affects courtship behavior and mating success, according to two studies they cite on its website,darksky.org.
There, you can also get the lowdown on the devastating effects even one outdoor light can have on birds, amphibians, insects and mammals.The organization provides educational materials that explain the issue, making it easier to bring it up to neighbors and friends — which I will soon try with the house across the river.
Dee Salomon ungardens in Litchfield County.
Elena Spellman
Kathy Reisfeld
In a barn on Maple Avenue in Great Barrington, Kathy Reisfeld merges two unlikely worlds: wealth management and yoga, teaching clients and students alike how stability — financial and emotional — comes from practice.
Her life sits at an intersection many assume can’t exist: high finance and yoga. One world is often reduced to greed, the other to “woo-woo” stretching. Yet in conversation, she makes both feel grounded, less like opposites and more like two languages describing the same human need for stability.
On one floor of her barn are yoga mats and the steady rhythm of breath. On the other are computer screens, market charts and conversations about retirement plans and portfolio diversification. For Reisfeld, founder of Berkshire Wealth Group in Great Barrington, these are two sides of a single practice.
“At the end of the day, you’re just dealing with people,” she said. “Whether we’re talking about financial stability or mental stability, it’s kind of all the same thing.”
Reisfeld has spent nearly 30 years in finance, building a client-centered advisory practice that eventually led her to go independent. But her relationship with money began long before her career.
When her mother became ill during Reisfeld’s childhood, finances tightened. It wasn’t poverty, she said, but it was constrained enough to teach her how money — or its lack — can dictate the terms of one’s life. That lesson took on a deeper meaning as she watched her mother remain in a difficult marriage without full financial independence. “Money represented autonomy,” she said. “Freedom.”
In college, Reisfeld initially majored in physics, drawn to systems and structure. But an economics class shifted her direction. Markets, she realized, were systems too — not only mathematical, but deeply human.
After graduating, she landed an internship with a financial adviser and gradually discovered a profession that combined curiosity, problem-solving and relationship-building.
“The more I learned, the more I kind of wanted to get involved,” she said.
Over time, she realized she wasn’t interested in chasing predictions; she was interested in guiding people through uncertainty.
Over nearly three decades, she has watched the industry evolve. It has moved, she believes, from selling products to offering advice — a shift toward aligning compensation with clients’ best interests.
She’s candid about the stereotypes that cling to finance: that it’s driven by greed and full of money-hungry people. Those people exist, she said, but they aren’t the majority.
“It’s kind of like the few bad apples ruining it for everyone.”
At its best, she believes, the work is quieter and more meaningful than its reputation suggests.

Yoga entered her life in 2001, when she was living in New York City and training as a marathon runner.
“I was, like, very anti-yoga,” she admitted with a laugh.
But once she tried it, something shifted. A workshop with Nancy Gilgoff, the first American woman to travel to India to study Ashtanga yoga, “blew my mind open,” she said, revealing yoga as something far larger than poses or stretching.
What began as a physical complement to her running became a doorway into something deeper.
“Ashtanga means eight limbs,” Reisfeld explained. “The physical practice is just the entry point.”
The overlap she sees between yoga and investing is patience. Both practices demand discipline through fluctuation — the ups and downs, the good days and bad days, and the willingness to keep showing up.
In yoga philosophy, she points to the stilling of the mind. In investing, that becomes tuning out the noise — the headlines that spike fear or euphoria, the endless predictions that feel authoritative and rarely land cleanly.
After almost three decades in a traditionally male-dominated industry, Reisfeld has learned to move comfortably in rooms where she was often one of the few women present.
Asked what it was like starting out as a woman in finance, she smiled.
“The lines for the restroom were shorter.”
The humor reflects her temperament. She began her career at 21, and mentorship was not always easy to find. But finance, like yoga, rewards consistency. Ultimately, she built her business through steady growth.
For Reisfeld, yoga is fundamentally about integration. Money is no exception. It shapes how we live, the choices we make and the freedoms we have. Ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. It only makes it harder.
Now rooted in the Berkshires, advising clients and teaching yoga classes from the same barn, Reisfeld’s work feels less like two careers and more like one philosophy.
When asked what she hopes people feel after spending time with her — whether reviewing a portfolio or finishing a yoga session — her answer is immediate.
“More confident,” she said. “Less stressed. More optimistic about their future.”
For more information or to book an appointment, visit berkshirewealthgroup.com
Kathy Reisfeld, Branch Owner
250 Maple Ave, Great Barrington, MA 01230
845-263-3996
Securities offered through Raymond James Financial Services, Inc. Member FINRA/SIPC.
Berkshire Wealth Group is not a registered broker/dealer and is independent of Raymond James Financial Services, Inc.
Investment advisory services offered through Raymond James Financial Services Advisors, Inc.
Elena Spellman is a Client Service Associate at Berkshire Wealth Group
Jack Sheedy
Playwright Cinzi Lavin, left, poses with Kathleen Kelly, director of ‘A Goodnight Kiss.’
Litchfield County playwright Cinzi Lavin’s “A Goodnight Kiss,” based on letters exchanged between a Civil War soldier and the woman who became his wife, premiered in 2025 to sold-out audiences in Goshen, where the couple once lived. Now the original cast, directed by Goshen resident Kathleen Kelly, will present the play beneath the gold dome of Connecticut’s Capitol in Hartford as part of the state’s America250 commemoration — marking what organizers believe may be the first such performance at the Capitol.
“I don’t believe any live performances of an actual play (at the Capitol) have happened,” said Elizabeth Conroy, administrative assistant at the Office of Legislative Management, who coordinates Capitol events.
When Lavin inquired about staging the production there, “they were very excited about it,” she said.
The performance, to take place April 1, is being sponsored by the Connecticut League of Women Voters. Organizers said the Capitol setting offers a fitting backdrop for a story rooted in American history and civic life.
“A Goodnight Kiss” is a dramatic reading drawn from letters exchanged between Sgt. Maj. Frederick Lucas (David Macharelli) and Sarah Jane “Jennie” Wadhams (Olivia Wadsworth). Fred wrote from battlefields, while Jennie wrote from the peaceful confines of Goshen. Together, their letters trace a gradually deepening romance and how the couple overcame objections by Jennie’s father, John Marsh Wadhams, and finally married in 1867.
“I just found it adorable that (Jennie’s father) was going to make sure she got the right kind of husband, which is why Fred had such a hard time,” Kelly said.
BroadwayWorld reviewer Sean Fallon called the play “the most romantic love story I have ever seen acted out on stage.”
The letters were first brought to light in the 2002 book “Fred and Jennie: A Civil War Love Story” by the late Ernest B. Barker, a Goshen resident and descendant of both the Lucas and Wadhams families. The Barker family discovered Fred’s letters in the Wadhams homestead and Jennie’s letters in a house once owned by a Lucas family member. The correspondence is now housed at the Connecticut Museum of Culture and History in Hartford.

Kelly said presenting the story through letters poses a challenge because the actors rarely interact onstage. During rehearsals, she had the performers face one another while reading their letters aloud. “It was just like magic happened,” she said.
Lavin said the play “tells the story of what truly makes America great, what made America great then, and what still makes it great, which is devotion to duty, service to others, integrity and treasuring freedom.”
David Macharelli, who portrays Fred, said, “Charting (Fred’s) course from enthusiastic young recruit gushing with admiration for the new technology of 19th-century warfare to a man crashing into the reality of war is a reminder that even the noblest of causes demand sacrifice, and that sacrifice is often borne by innocents.”
Olivia Wadsworth said of portraying Jennie, “It’s actually a little dizzying to think about. Two people, more than a hundred years ago, sent private letters to one another, and now their love story is being shared in a performance at the state Capitol.”
The performance will take place April 1 at 2 p.m. in Room 310 of the Capitol at 210 Capitol Ave., Hartford. The event is free and open to the public with advance registration at https://bit.ly/4usa9b7. Arrangements for guests with special requirements may be made by emailing Lisa Del Sesto at admin@lwvct.org or calling 203-288-7996. Parking on Capitol grounds is limited, but additional parking is available nearby at the Legislative Office Building, 300 Capitol Ave.

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Robin Roraback
Yonah Sadeh, Falls Village filmmaker and curator of David M. Hunt Library’s new VideoWall.
The David M. Hunt Library in Falls Village, known for promoting local artists with its ArtWall, is debuting a new feature showcasing filmmakers. The VideoWall will premiere Saturday, March 28, at 6 p.m. with a screening of two short films by Brooklyn-based documentary filmmaker and animator Imogen Pranger.
The VideoWall is the idea of Falls Village filmmaker Yonah Sadeh, who also serves as curator. “I would love the VideoWall to become a place that showcases the work of local filmmakers, and I hope that other creatives in the area will submit their work to be shown,” he said.
After the screening of the two films, “Mail Myself to You” and “Circle, Circle Square,” Pranger and Sadeh will discuss filmmaking and answer questions.
Of Pranger, Sadeh said, “She has a strong visual voice as a director, and both of these films are great examples of a blend of documentary and experimental filmmaking.”

Pranger described her approach to filmmaking. “I have always approached the visual arts from an interdisciplinary, multimedia perspective.” This approach was a reason why animation was particularly appealing to Pranger as she began exploring the possibilities of filmmaking.
“I particularly fell in love with the tactility of hand-drawn and painted animation and the ways in which it can be used in tandem with analog 16-millimeter film. Stop-motion animation holds the unique power to bring inanimate objects to life, something that became crucial to my practice of archival documentary filmmaking. I appreciate the sense of play that is encouraged in the medium of animation and find great joy in exploring new avenues and possibilities within the medium,” she continued.
At the core of Pranger’s films, she hopes to capture the joy and intimacy of human connection that blossoms through engagement with material and creative process.
After the opening event, the films will remain available to view at any time on the VideoWall screen in the library stacks. “The screen will always be on and ready for anyone to use,” Sadeh said. The installations will last three to four months.
Sadeh added, “Each installation will begin with a public screening at the library, followed by a talkback with the filmmaker.”
Filmmakers can contact Sadeh at huntartwall@gmail.com for information about submitting films for consideration. Visit huntlibrary.org/art-wall for a schedule of ArtWall and VideoWall events, which are free and open to the public.
Cheryl Heller
A bowl full of stones.
There’s a bowl in my studio where pieces of the planet reside. I bring them home from travels, picking them up not for their beauty or distinction but for their provenance. I choose the ones that speak to me — the ones next to pyramids, along hiking trails, on city sidewalks or volcanic slopes.
I like how stones feel in my hand: weighty, grounding. I don’t mind them making my pockets and suitcase heavier. The bowl is about the size of an average carry-on. It has been years since it was light enough for me to lift.
They’re not specimens. I’m not a scientist comparing igneous with sedimentary, or metamorphic with minerals or meteorites. I don’t know slate from quartzite, or schist from basalt or gabbro. They aren’t memories either, because I can’t tell by looking at them where they’re from. They sit quietly beside me in whatever moment I’m occupying.
They’re not souvenirs from places, like coffee mugs or snow globes. They are the places themselves.
The planet has reorganized itself in my bowl. Melbourne nestles next to the Hebrides. The streets of Roma in Mexico City rub elbows with Vatican City, Rome. Eastern Tibet sits on top of Machu Picchu; New Delhi is now close to Detroit. Cappadocia has finally met Capri. Mustique knows Morocco, and they both lie on the beaches of southern France.
These stones have witnessed the fall of civilizations, the birth and death of infinite beings, tectonic upheavals and the creative destruction of fire and ice.
Who touched them before me? Inca, Maya, Trojans? Warriors, slaves or yaks? Blue-footed boobies in the Galápagos or a slithering Costa Rican fer-de-lance? Was one of them used to stone a blasphemer in ancient Greece?
It’s not as if the place where I live needs more stones. In New England we’ve been blessed with an imposing population of glacial erratics — characters dragged here by the last Ice Age and left to sit silently in the woods for the past 16,000 years. The stones themselves, I’ve learned, are more than a billion years old.
The most ancient rocks known to us are more than four billion years old. Others are practically new, formed continually as tectonic plates shift along seabeds or lava cools along volcanic slopes. And while individual rocks vary wildly in age, the substance of rocks — atoms of silicon, oxygen and iron —is far older than the Earth itself, forged in ancient stars before our Milky Way existed.
Perhaps my bowl is filled with stars.
I recently stood before an exhibit of Aboriginal art called “The Stars We Do Not See.”The artists are descendants of the oldest continuous civilization on Earth, at 350,000 years. Their past is not distant or inaccessible to them; they understand time as a cycle and live in relationship with everything on earth and sky, including stones.
The title of the show was inspired by the late Yolŋu artist Gulumbu Yunupingu, who painted the night sky on bark. She spoke about the “stars behind the stars” — all there is to learn and appreciate beyond what we can see.
Deep in the woods on the hill above our house in Norfolk sits a giant marshmallow-shaped rock, one of the billion-year-old ones. At some point, someone leaned a ladder against it — a standing invitation to a new perspective.
How can we know the things that are invisible, the stars behind the stars? How can we feel connected to what came before us and sits silently around us, too slow for our impatient eyes to see?

Every once in a while, someone leans a ladder against a rock so we can’t miss it. Most of the time, we’re on our own.
I sometimes joke with my younger sister that when I die, she and our nieces can divide up whatever I leave behind, including the handbag she has had her eye on for years. But who will see and care about a bowl of rocks too heavy to lift and too silent about their value to be appreciated?
This is for you, Lynn, Stacey, Katie and Rose.
I hope you keep the planet in my bowl together.
It might be, after all, my small and only lasting intervention in the world.
Cheryl Heller is a designer, educator and business strategist who pioneered the field of social design and founded the first social design MFA program at the School of Visual Arts. She lives in Norfolk.
Natalia Zukerman
On March 29, writer, producer and director Tammy Denease will embody the life and story of Elizabeth Freeman, widely known as Mumbet, in two performances at the Scoville Library in Salisbury. Presented by Scoville Library and the Salisbury Association Historical Society, the performance is part of Salisbury READS, a community-wide engagement with literature and civic dialogue.
Mumbet was the first enslaved woman in Massachusetts to sue successfully for her freedom in 1781. Her victory helped lay the legal groundwork for the abolition of slavery in the state just two years later. In bringing Mumbet’s story to life, Denease does more than reenact history.
“I have been performing Mumbet for over 15 years now,” she said. What continues to resonate is “her self-awareness and self-worth even though she was enslaved. Her legacy of self-care and the ability to take care of others. That has not changed over time.”
Denease’s one-woman performance, “One Minute a Free Woman,” is part of her “Hidden Women” series, which centers figures too often pushed to the margins of historical memory. Drawing upon her own lineage and storytelling traditions passed down from her great-grandmother, a formerly enslaved woman, Denease creates work that bridges personal inheritance and collective history. Her background as a museum educator and interpretive guide shapes this approach.
“Being an interpretive educator helps me put the humanity back into history that has been removed when telling the stories,” she said.
The 2 p.m. program welcomes school-age audiences and families, while a 4 p.m. performance invites adults into a deeper and more intense exploration of Mumbet’s life.
“The format of the show will only change in the way I deliver the story,” Denease explained. “It will be more intense and in detail for the adults, less intense for the kids. However, it will not be watered down.”
For young people, Denease hopes the performance ignites curiosity and critical thought. “I hope school-age audiences’ imaginations are activated to want to know more and to never stop asking questions.” Adults, she said, are invited into a deeper investigation. “I hope for my adult audience that they will question what they were taught and see history through a different lens.”
That spirit of inquiry lies at the heart of Salisbury READS. “Literature and live performances go hand in hand,” Denease said. “Reading activates the imagination; living history helps that activated mind to make historical connections and keep the humanity and dignity in place where it was never given or taken away.”
Ultimately, the performance asks audiences to treat history not as distant fact but as shared responsibility. “I hope the audience will continue to question why knowing accurate and complete history is so important,” Denease said. “To understand that not knowing the whole story hurts everyone.”
To register for the event, visit scovillelibrary.org

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