'Character, not color'
Rep. Brooks lives by principles instilled by family
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Francis Brooks sits in a common area outside the House chamber at the Statehouse in Montpelier. Jeb Wallace-Brodeur/Times Argus |
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By Sue Allen Times Argus Editor - Published: February 19, 2007
MONTPELIER — Two things stand out about Rep. Francis Brooks at the Statehouse. The first is his 100-watt smile that's flashing more often than not. The second is the reality that he's the only African-American in the Legislature and often in the building.
In fact, he notes, he and his wife Eunice were the only black couple in Montpelier when they moved to the Capital City in 1967.
He had just graduated from Norwich University that year, with degrees in chemistry and education, and planned to student teach at Montpelier High School. Eunice had never even visited the state.
Brooks had entered Norwich four years earlier, then an all-male school, to find only three other African- American students. By graduation, that number had climbed to five. Still, he enjoyed the school.
"My parents taught me the concept of gauging the content of a person's character, not the color of his skin," he said. The school made him feel welcome, "as much as any Rook was welcome; no less or no more," referring to the "Rookdom" initiation imposed on all rookies their freshman year.
After graduation, Eunice and Francis found an apartment in Montpelier and settled into life in Vermont, which was not always a natural fit. The radio stations didn't play the music they preferred. The beauty salons didn't have experience cutting and styling their hair.
"Those are not the most important things in the world," Brooks said of the challenges facing minorities in Vermont. "You need to be prepared for missing some things, but you have to evaluate whether that is so important."Life, he says, is a course that flows from individual choices. He clicks off the choices that brought him to the Golden Dome, where he prepares to step down from his House seat after 24 years serving Montpelier and become the sergeant-at-arms at the Statehouse.
A key decision came after a year spent in post-high school prep school in Massachusetts, when he was accepted to both Norwich University and the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston. At one, he planned to become a soldier in the Army like his older brother Leo. At the other, he would pursue a singing career (he currently is a baritone with the Vermont Symphony Orchestra Chorus).
He chose Norwich, only to discover in his sophomore year that he had a blood pressure problem that limited an Army career. So he made another choice; he became a teacher at Montpelier High, where he taught chemistry, physics and general sciences for 32 years before retiring in 1999. He also coached boys' football for 18 years.
Another crucial decision came in 1982 when he entered the race for a seat in the Vermont House of Representatives.
"I realized I lived in a state where I could run if I wanted to," he said. "It didn't require money; it didn't require political machine-making approval. It simply required your effort to knock on people's doors — not a guarantee of winning, but a guarantee of getting in the game like anybody else."
The night of the election, after the polls closed, Brooks returned home and put his son and daughter to bed. He then stretched out on the living room floor, "as content as I have ever been because my name was there with everyone else's" on the ballot.
At 11:15 that night, Peter Giuliani called Brooks at home to tell the Democrat that he won the seat. Today, Brooks is one of the five longest serving members in the chamber.
"I happened to be in the right place at the right time," he said of his years in the Legislature. Two bills stand out among others as high points: a decision for Vermont to divest of South African investments to protest apartheid; and a bill creating a category of hate crimes to protect homosexuals, minorities and other protected communities.
The legislative low points came, he said, during some of those same debates where legislation dealt with minority issues, "where I felt very lonely, isolated … where the attention focused on me because of being a minority, an African American."
Again, he points to the South African divestiture bill.
"At times I become the example, the spokesman, to speak on the issues because of my expertise, which is not the way I normally motivate," he said. "I prefer to stay out of the limelight personally."
He felt compelled to speak as a member of a minority community, however, to ensure lawmakers understood the true experience and scope of racism and to "make sure people didn't fool themselves."
"I thought I had to speak from the point of view of someone who has experienced an issue," he said. "I didn't sit in the corner and be quiet."
Brooks draws his strength from his close-knit family. Born in Washington, D.C., and raised in Alexandria, Va., Brooks' father was a Baptist minister who also ran a wallpaper and interior decorating business. His mother was a homemaker. He calls them mommy and daddy, and speaks of them with great warmth.
"When I grew up, all the way through college, my greatest refuge was to be at home," he said.
Brooks was one of five children, and 11 years younger than his next sibling Leo (Leo walked Brooks to class on his first day at school, where the 12th graders met on the top floor and the 1st graders on the first floor).
Virtually all his important decisions have been influenced by his family.
His oldest brother, Houston, received a doctorate in organic chemistry; Francis majored in chemistry. Leo is a retired major general in the Army; Francis hoped to go into the Army. Sister Nellie became an elementary school principal; Francis became a teacher. Brother Henry, now deceased, had his doctorate in clinical psychology and was an ordained minister; Francis steps in as acting minister in various churches – including the Montpelier Baptist church where he attends regularly.
All the siblings are "liberal Democrats," he said. Yet, Leo's sons – Francis Brooks' nephews — have held high-ranking positions in the Army. The younger was the Army's spokesman during the U.S. invasion of Iraq, an interesting juxtaposition given Brooks' vote recently for a resolution calling for U.S. troop withdrawal from Iraq.
Religion has been important in his life, as well. "Everybody has their trials. I've found a means for stability, for understanding," he said. "If I hadn't had that, things would have been more difficult."
Teaching was also an anchor. Throughout his years teaching, Brooks said, Vermont kids have essentially stayed the same. The familial and societal baggage they bring to the classroom today was present throughout the years, but educators weren't as aware of those influences in the past.
"The real child just was the same, wanting to be loved, wanting to be respected, wanting to be appreciated, wanting to learn," he said. There was no MTV or other modern-day influences, but underneath all that "you find the same wanting soul."
"I didn't end up with former students," he said. "I ended up with friends."
Brooks said he has built a good life in Vermont. Montpelier, he added, "is a wonderful place to bring up children." It's safe, with small neighborhoods. His son and daughter have been frustrated by borrowing the car, with its House 137 license plate, knowing that everybody in town recognizes them. He values that small-town sense of community.
Have there been racist incidents, he is asked? "There have been times," Brooks responds. "When I first moved here, there was name-calling. There are 600,000 people here, so there has to be some folks like that."
But he does not regret the decisions that led to a life here, and looks forward to the next stage as sergeant-at-arms.
"I often marvel at the choices I've had to make and where they've led," he said, flashing that 100-watt smile yet again. "And what the end result will be."
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