A group of people protest outdoors in winter clothing, holding signs that read "Peace Plan???" and "Children.
Nancy Braus, a longtime Vermont social justice activist, protests outside the Brattleboro post office. Photo by Kevin O’Connor/VTDigger

BRATTLEBORO — Activist Nancy Braus has protested nearly a half-century on area streets to tax the rich and feed the poor. But townspeople here still did a double take when they learned she was giving a local family shelter her recent inheritance of $1 million.

“It was a bit of a shock and really takes your breath away,” said Chloe Learey, executive director of the Winston Prouty Center for Child and Family Development that will use the money to host up to 10 households at a time.

It’s just one way Braus has defied expectations.

“I don’t believe in inherited wealth,” the 71-year-old said in an interview. “I always knew I wanted to learn how to take care of myself and take care of others. I live in a small house. I shop for clothes only when I need underwear. I have no interest in going on a Caribbean cruise. For me, there were a million choices, but none of them were about keeping the money.”

Braus rewinds to 1984, when she opened an alternative bookstore — Everyone’s Books — near a Brattleboro shop that was such a literary landmark, it boasted an appearance by artist Norman Rockwell and an autograph photo from poet Robert Frost.

Braus, countering with such titles as “Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants” and “On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century,” turned her store into a downtown anchor by the time she sold it and retired in 2023.

Most locals now recognize Braus for her protest signs and Substack posts. What they didn’t know until recently: She’s the daughter of the late Jay Braus, founder of a namesake Manhattan real estate firm before his death in 2014, and Jane Wolbarst Braus, his wife of 63 years.

As a matriarch, Jane was a “dynamo” in her own right, her obituary noted upon her death on Feb. 6 at age 99. Braus remembers her mother requesting separate checks at a diner, only to bequeath a family fortune to four children and charitable causes including Planned Parenthood and Doctors Without Borders.

Soon after, Braus spoke with her three daughters — one who’s a Brattleboro public school teacher — about the challenges faced by students without housing.

“They’re hungry and without clean clothes, they don’t come to class for whatever hardships the family is having,” she said.

Braus then reached out to the Winston Prouty Center, located at the old Austine School of the Deaf once attended by her youngest daughter. The current nonprofit had run a temporary shelter for families before its state contract expired this summer. The center still had space and staff. Braus had money.

A sign for Winston Prouty Center for Child and Family Development, featuring a tree logo made of green and black handprints, is displayed outdoors with trees and grass in the background.
The Winston Prouty Center for Child and Family Development sits on a 184-acre campus in Brattleboro. Photo by Kevin O’Connor/VTDigger

“It felt like everything aligned,” she said. “It was a really perfect fit.”

The new shelter, which debuted this month in a renovated dormitory, offers private rooms for up to 10 families who share kitchens, bathrooms and common living areas.

“I got teary,” Learey recalled of Braus revealing her gift. “It’s amazing when somebody steps up to make a difference like this.”

The money will allow the shelter to operate for at least two years as its host center — situated on a 184-acre campus — aims to develop 300 units of affordable housing in a proposed “Village at Winston Prouty.” 

“The Village will be a model for how rural communities can address interconnected challenges — child care, housing and workforce stability — by bringing people and services together,” Learey said. “The family shelter is a critical first step, but it cannot be the last.”

Braus, for her part, has declined pomp or plaques, although she’s allowing herself to be identified.

“Anonymity is a lot easier, but I wanted people to be aware that activists can also be donors,” she said. “If people can look at this and say, ‘I don’t need to keep all this money that I’m being left,’ I’ll feel like it was worth it. Obviously, if you’re living in dire poverty, you’re going to keep it. But I’m hoping that other people will decide that maybe society could use the money more. There are so many who need so much.”

VTDigger's southern Vermont and features reporter.