Brenda Churchill. Photo courtesy of Jessica BantaFriends and colleagues are still coming to terms with the recent death of prominent Vermont LGBTQ+ advocate Brenda Churchill, remembered as an empathetic and passionate activist and as a vibrant, fun-loving compatriot. A Bakersfield resident and transgender woman, she was a beloved member of the Vermont Commission on Women and the state’s LGBTQ+ community. Churchill died on Jan. 13 at age 67 from natural causes, according to her family, outside of Syracuse, New York.“When I think of her, I think of a woman that never gives up, that finds a way to fight for her community,” said Esther Charlestin, chair of the women’s commission and a friend of Churchill’s. “She was just a ball of sunshine energy, always encouraging, always willing to support and show up, being there for her parents, being there for her partner, being supportive.”Her daughter Jessica Banta, reflected on how Churchill’s character shaped her own life and values. “Honestly, I’ve always been a strong protector of people’s rights and human rights,” Banta said. “And I feel like that’s probably the biggest thing that I’ve learned from Brenda, is to protect people and what’s right.”Churchill was perhaps best known in Vermont for her advocacy for LGBTQ+ rights. After being asked to serve as legislative liaison for the LGBTQIA Alliance of Vermont, she became instrumental in passing legislation to preserve and expand the rights of transgender Vermonters.Friends said she was especially proud of her advocacy for a 2018 law mandating that all of Vermont’s single-use bathrooms in public spaces be labeled as gender-neutral and a 2022 law that allows Vermonters’ birth certificates to reflect their gender identity. READ MORE Scott signs bill allowing Vermonters to amend their birth certificates to reflect gender identity by Sarah Mearhoff April 6, 2022, 6:41 pmApril 7, 2022, 2:26 pm Churchill also worked on an 18-month-long project to add a third gender to Vermont driver’s licenses and identification, which came to fruition in June 2019. In the following year, 400 residents changed their identity status.Christine Hallquist, the first openly transgender major-party gubernatorial nominee in U.S. history, reflected on how she first met Churchill and how it blossomed into a decade-long friendship.“I transitioned very publicly in 2015, and it was in the papers and on the news,” Hallquist said. “She reached out and we became immediately good friends.”Hallquist credited Churchill’s encouragement for inspiring her to run for governor in 2018. On their way to the Women’s March that year, Churchill asked Hallquist, “Why don’t you run for governor?” Initially, Hallquist dismissed the idea, content as CEO of Vermont Electric Cooperative. But during the march, she was deeply moved by four young Muslim women performing slam poetry about their experiences in Vermont.“I cried, and I turned to Brenda and said, ‘OK, I will run,’” Hallquist said.Churchill’s biggest focus was getting and expending resources for trans people in the rural towns in her region of Franklin County. Her dedication and effectiveness as an advocate for these issues were recognized at the highest levels, leading to her appointment by House Speaker Jill Krowinski, D-Burlington, to the Vermont Commission on Women in January 2023, becoming the first transgender woman on the independent, nonpartisan state commission. “I look forward to the near future when transgender women are no longer ‘first’ in any organization,” Churchill said in a statement following the announcement. “Being the first at anything opens doors for those who follow.”Vermont LGBTQ+ rights activist Keith Goslant met Churchill after the 2016 elections when he said “it became clear to Vermont’s queer communities that we were not going to have a favorable federal administration.”“Brenda went from having a little familiarity around union organizing to her first time walking into the Statehouse as an advocate to confront members of the Senate regarding an omission in their resolution recognizing Vermont’s queer community,” said Goslant, a cofounder of Outright VT, a nonprofit that supports LGBTQ+ youth in the state.Goslant remembered a moment in the Statehouse when he and Churchill were strategizing on who should testify before committees on the 2018 gender-neutral bathroom bill, one of the first pieces of legislation she actively championed. “I would look at her and say, ‘This is an issue for which you need to be the face of our argument’,” he said with a smile. “And she looked at me and said, ‘I’m not sure how I feel about being the face of a bathroom bill.’”Churchill was a mentor for and alum of Emerge Vermont, the training network for Democratic women interested in running for public office. The organization’s executive director, Elaine Haney, highlighted Churchill’s ability to connect with others, even in challenging circumstances. “She could walk into a room full of people who were not on her side and leave having given them an opportunity to understand and empathize in a way they hadn’t before,” Haney said. “She could meet people, share her perspective and somehow manage to change theirs.”Haney also noted Churchill’s kindness and her thoughtful approach to helping others. She described how Churchill always took the time to listen carefully, ask insightful questions and guide people toward understanding their goals and finding ways to achieve them.“I knew that if I had a problem and I called her, I had her complete and utter attention while she helped me through it,” Haney said. “You know, lots of friends do that for you, but she had a very particular way of doing it.”Charlestin, herself a former Democratic gubernatorial nominee, texted Churchill three days before her death. “I was texting her on Friday, and we were making jokes,” Charlestin said in an interview the week after her death. “So her departure is coming as a huge shock. I wish I called. I wish I called her to say thank you for your service, for being a light and an example for all of us.”Photo courtesy of Jessica BantaAn orange Jeep, ’80s music and beerThose who knew Churchill knew that wherever she went, her bright orange Jeep was never far behind. “She loved driving her Jeep,” Hallquist said. “She would go on these backcountry Jeep tours, and so when we would get together, she would tell me all about her wanderings with her Jeep all throughout New England.”When asked if he knew about her love for Jeeps, Goslant started to laugh, saying, “I got reprimanded by Brenda when I bought an all-wheel-drive Honda because it wasn’t a Jeep.”Churchill also passed on her love for Jeeps to her daughter. “I actually belong to Jeep clubs and own two Jeeps myself,” Banta said. “I learned to drive manual transmission from Brenda.”For Churchill, driving a Jeep came with music. One of her daughter’s fondest memories with Churchill was how she always quizzed her on music during their many travels between Bakersfield and Syracuse, where Churchill’s parents live.“Even if I don’t know a music group, it is automatically Fleetwood Mac,” Banta said. When Banta first received the news that Churchill had died, it was Fleetwood Mac that comforted her. “That is what I listened to,” she said.Hallquist attested to Churchill’s love for music, especially during Hallquist’s campaign for governor, when they drove together across the state. “We would get the car, and she always played dance music, you know, fun, fun music,” she said. “It was like late ’70s, early ’80s kind of stuff.”Photo courtesy of Jessica BantaBesides her love for Jeeps and music, she was also an aficionado of beer. Goslant recalled her go-to question when she began to get to know her colleagues better. “She’d look at them and say, ‘So, what kind of beer do you like?’” he said. Haney couldn’t have agreed more. “Wherever we went, as long as it involved good local craft beer, she was happy. We shared many plates of tater tots,” Haney said.Beer was also the reason for Churchill and Hallquist to catch up after Churchill frequently lived near Syracuse, New York, to care for her parents. Anytime she was in Burlington, Hallquist would receive a message with just “beer?” from Churchill, she said with a laugh. “And of course, when I told her when I was in Syracuse, same thing. She would just say, ‘beer?’”In her work, Churchill often looked to trailblazers for inspiration, particularly Ashanti Gholar, the president of Emerge’s national organization. “Sometimes Brenda would say to me, ‘What would Ashanti do?’” Haney said, noting how that mindset often led them to the right answers. Churchill admired those who stood firm in their beliefs, and she embodied that courage herself, inspiring others to do the same. “In the same way she’d ask, ‘What would Ashanti do?’ I’ll continue to ask, ‘What would Brenda do?” Haney said.Read the story on VTDigger here: ‘A ball of sunshine energy’: Vermonters remember rights activist Brenda Churchill.