Remembering Nathan
Nathan Suter and Morgan Lloyd
It is with great sadness that I am writing to share that Nathan Suter died suddenly on May 13 from a heart attack.
Back in 2011, Nathan Suter was THE force that brought the Peace & Justice Center back to life—a phoenix from the ashes—according to co-founder and former staff member Wendy Coe.
Following the 2008 recession, over the course of two years, the Peace & Justice Center shrank from a staff of 9 to only 4. The staff and board were questioning whether they should close up shop entirely. They called a public meeting in March 2011 at Contois Auditorium in Burlington’s City Hall. One hundred community members came. The meeting attendees said overwhelmingly that the PJC still had a role to play and should carry on.
Nathan was among the attendees. He hadn’t been involved in the center’s work but had a life parallel to it with all the same commitments and values. I wasn’t there personally so can only say what other people have told me, which is that without his efforts, they would not have succeeded in re-kindling the organization and carrying on.
For two and a half years, they functioned with no executive director. Nathan, with his current job as ED of the Helen Day Art Center, had fundraising, personnel, finance, and other skills needed to operate a non-profit organization. He joined the PJC board and attended staff meetings for 2-3 hours every week to support the staff and act as a liaison to the board. He did this for two and a half years.
By 2013 they had raised enough money to hire an ED. I applied for the job, was asked to interview, and was surprised when I saw Nathan. We had gone to Haverford College together and while we weren’t friends in college, we had a special connection. Both of us were students in the fine art department. We were both also models. I made dozens of drawings, sculptures, and paintings of Nathan and he of me. There’s probably a metaphor in there. Nathan would know what it is.
I was hired and became very close to Nathan. He very adeptly stayed involved with operations without stepping on toes – a gift in the board-staff relational balance. He was smart, funny, curious, community-minded, and equity-focused. He was an excellent hugger and always had the warmest, most authentic greetings. He worked hard for another 10 years on the PJC board, showing up, initiating things, following up on tasks. He was consistent and trustworthy. We usually agreed on things, but when we didn’t, he was someone willing to engage, with love, in conflict. A rare skill. We also had a relationship where we would call each other on our white nonsense and other privileged behaviors.
Having people in my life who hold me accountable for and help me recognize both my internalized superiority as well as internalized marginalization means the world to me. Having had Nathan in my life meant the world to me. It makes no sense to me that he’s gone. I will continue to work toward peace and justice in his honor.
Rest in power, rest in peace. I miss you, Nathan.
Please consider supporting Morgan, Amani, and Asa, Nathan’s family, by contributing to this GoFundMe.