VBSR's own Chelsea Bardot Lewis Gives Keynote on Resilience

What follows is an abbreviated version of the keynote remarks given by VBSR Executive Director Chelsea Bardot Lewis on November 5, 2025.

I want to start by bringing Soraya Chemaly into this room with us this morning. Some of you may have read her book The Resilience Myth. I love this quote from her:

“True resilience draws its power from mutually nurturing relationships in supportive environments like this one today—serendipitous experiences, sharing resources, and creating tolerant, compassionate communities.”

That’s what we’re doing here today: resilience building. Resilience comes from community, as much as it comes from self. It’s not just about individual grit; it’s about the relationships we build and how we relate to each other.

A Lesson in Belonging

If you drive down Route 7 for about two hours, you’ll reach the town where I grew up in northwestern Connecticut. My dad was a lawyer, my mom an early educator. I had a wonderful childhood with two younger brothers. My dad also had MS - the relapsing-remitting type - which meant his health would fluctuate. During one of his stable periods, my parents bought a historic house built in 1790 on a classic New England street. But then my dad had a relapse. My mom was caring for three kids, working full-time with three-year-olds, and caring for my dad. Lawn care and flower beds were not a priority.

One day, in eighth grade, I came home to find a letter stuck in our door. It was made like a ransom note, with words cut from newspapers and pasted into a menacing message. It said:

“Pine Street is not Skid Row.”

I handed it to my dad. No 12-year-old should ever see the look of shame I saw on his face. That weekend, he stumbled over uneven ground, trying to make the yard look “acceptable.” This is a town that prides itself on being a place where people help each other out, but instead of checking in on us, a neighbor told us we didn’t belong. That was the last time I felt safe in that community.

So we're going to start by doing a little resilience building together right now. Take out your phone - do not check your email! And send a quick text to someone who might need a boost. Let them know they are on your mind. I’ll give you one minute.

[Pause]

Okay, put it away before Slack or email pulls you back in.

Finding Purpose

After that experience, I wanted out. So I decided to leave for boarding school. Don't you want to hug that sweet twelve-year-old girl who just had her first run-in with classism and thought, “things will be better at boarding school!” Bless her heart. Of course I crashed right into institutionalized racism, classism, sexism - and no parents to go home to each night to help me process what I was experiencing. I made incredible friends and got a great education, but by senior year, I was in a mental health crisis.

Luckily, I was connected with an incredible psychiatrist who shared with me some advice that ended up becoming an organizing principle for my life. He said:

“You need to find a more graceful way to say ‘F-you’ to the world.”

What a gift to hear these words at that moment. That’s also a key part of resilience: purpose. Believing you’re here for a reason. 

Lessons from Working Fields

That search for purpose brought me to Working Fields, a staffing agency that connected individuals with barriers to employment to local employers. Over eight years, we served thousands of people: individuals coming out of incarceration, treatment, or long-term unemployment. People who had lost hope of supporting themselves or their families were able to rebuild through employment.

With an incredible team of account managers and peer coaches, we grew from one small office in South Burlington to locations in Rutland, St. Albans, Springfield, and beyond. We acquired an agency in Greenfield, Mass., expanded into Maine and New Hampshire, doubled revenue, and raised $3 million.

But ultimately it became clear that this business wasn't going to make it. In September 2024, I stepped into the CEO role, and by the end of that year, I was wrapping up my time at Working Fields.

That was the hardest year of my professional life. During that time, I felt like I was downloading raw wisdom from an incredibly stressful moment, and I started taking journaling to capture what I was accessing. Here are some of the lessons I learned:

Four Principles for Resilience

1. Acknowledge Stress
It’s so important to say: This is stressful. We’ve had COVID, climate disasters, political chaos - things are not okay. We can’t normalize this. The science shows that pretending we’re fine isn’t good for our executive function. When we don’t acknowledge stress, our amygdala over-activates, cortisol floods our system, and decision-making suffers. So name the stress, don't ignore it. It will help you make better decisions.

It can also be helpful to listen to your anxiety voice instead of suppressing it. I set a timer for an hour and let myself have a full conversation with my fears, to follow them to the worst-case scenario. Once I had identified all of the worst-case scenarios I spent some time with each of them. And the more time I spent with them the less scary they became.

2. Radical Prioritization
When things got hard, I noticed I was getting less done. I’d check off easy tasks instead of the most important ones. So I started making a one-item to-do list. I would ask myself each morning, "What is the most important thing I need to do today?" Then do that first. Then move to the next most important thing.

3. Build Your Wellness Toolbox
Meditation never stuck for me, so I have to get creative in order to clear my mind. Often that looks like a one-minute headstand in the morning. Give yourself permission to get weird with your wellness, and find rituals that bring presence. For me, the rituals that immediately jolt me into the present moment are:

  • My first cup of coffee in the morning, which becomes a full sensory experience.
  • Taking three deep breaths during those moments of grace when I'm driving and I can feel the warmth of the sunlight sunlight on my face.
  • Putting my 10-year-old to bed, putting a hand on his back and savoring that moment because I know the days of getting to lie with him in his bed at night are fleeting.

And don't forget about the transformational power of fresh air. 

4. Prioritize Relationships
In times of crisis, shame often keeps us silent. Early in my first pregnancy I followed the conventional advice and didn't tell anyone just in case something happened. But then I had a miscarriage, and not only was I sad and in pain, I also felt alone and ashamed. So the next time I got pregnant I immediately told the people I knew I would wan to support me if anything went wrong. And then I had two more miscarriages, and I couldn't have gotten through that period without their support.

When Working Fields was facing serious financial constraints, I called a small group of leaders I admired. Without fail, they picked up the phone and cleared their schedules. Those conversations helped me set aside shame, which is unproductive in a time of crisis, and identify that one most important thing to do next. 

Where I Am Today

Today, I’m honored to lead Vermont Businesses for Social Responsibility, an organization of leaders aligning their businesses and nonprofits with their values. We believe in the power of bringing people together. This is resilience—being in the room together, sharing ideas, and supporting each other. I invite all of you to join us, as we need each other more than ever.