Created January 2023, updated May 2, 2024
Copyright 2024 Susan Burneson. All rights reserved. Kindly talk with us before reproducing any website content.
On May 17, 2003, a young pig became legendary in our neighborhood when he escaped from a petting zoo as we were setting up the first-ever Violet Crown Festival. The event was coordinated by a new neighborhood nonprofit, Violet Crown Community Works. The pig would come to be known as Domino.
Some of us volunteering that morning witnessed the agile pig (right) make a beeline to freedom and disappear into the neighborhood. Although he turned out to be feral, he was adopted for a time by a neighbor who named him Domino. In 2004, Shayla Fleshman documented his story. See the 2006 film about Domino here.
A core group of us from Brentwood and Crestview created the nonprofit and festival. Initially, we were inspired to help raise funds for a mosaic wall, envisioned by artist and Brentwood neighbor Jean Graham. During the first years of the festival, Jean and I were among its longtime volunteers; I helped plan and promote the event and coordinated the Community Tent. Shayla and I were founding members of the VCCW board, and she also was a longtime festival volunteer.
Early on, as Jean and I worked on the festival together, we joked about feeling like Little Red Hens. Even though people loved the festival and Jean’s vision for the mosaic wall, we often didn’t have enough helpers to comfortably share all that needed to be done. It was understandable, with all the ways neighbors choose or need to spend their time. And, it became challenging for our small core group, especially as the annual festival grew larger and more popular. We were committed to sustaining what we had created, so some of us volunteered year after year.
We set up the festival, stayed there throughout the day, and packed and cleaned up everything at the end. We left Brentwood Park as close as we could to how we found it. After every festival, often the same evening, many of us gathered for a warm celebratory dinner at a local restaurant. Then we’d mostly scatter to recharge and focus on our own lives until we came together again a few months before the next festival.
In the fable, the Little Red Hen ate all the bread after no one helped her make it. I was among the volunteers who chose to make the bread and give much of it away. Over time, our choices took a precious toll. Several of us met with a nonprofit expert, who told us about grants that would help lighten the load for volunteers. That sounded wise; I was ready to help. Others decided against it, and the festival remained grassroots. In the end, several people openly focused their anger on me; others stayed silent. I reached out again and again to see if we could restore common ground and civility. Some tried.
In time, I made my own peace with those challenges, even though awkwardness among some of us remains. And, in my heart I know this is true: We worked together on worthy community projects, showed up year after year to create something memorable, and saw each one through. We laid a foundation on which other neighbors could build, and they did, very successfully. One recent project—significant improvements to the Brentwood Park playground completed in 2020.
For me, stories of neighbors creating community still serve as a wellspring for my ongoing project Voices of the Violet Crown. VVC grew out of the large, 30×40-foot Community Tent (and, later, the smaller Welcome Tent) I coordinated during the first years of the Violet Crown Festival. My aim was to create a space where neighbors of all ages would feel welcome. I hoped they’d discover a stronger sense of place about living in Brentwood and Crestview through the community and history exhibits I researched and designed.
Now, something in me wants to rewrite the Little Red Hen’s story. I’d keep her wisdom about doing her best to connect with others, setting healthy boundaries, and communicating clearly. I’d strike a healthier balance between making the bread, if that’s what we’re inspired to do, and sharing the bread, no matter who helps make it. I’d make it clear that at the heart of helping our community thrive is taking good care of ourselves and our relationships. I would show how a divided community can heal when people are willing to come together and repair what still lingers between them. I’d wrap up the story with neighbors gathering to break bread, having no doubt that every one of them is welcome and has value in the community.
Postscript: The mosaic Wall of Welcome, on Woodrow Avenue in Austin, was completed and dedicated in March 2008. My project Voices of the Violet Crown continues. VCCW still builds and sustains community here by supporting neighborhood enhancement projects. After he escaped from the petting zoo, Domino spent time as a neighbor’s pet and then was returned to the country. An unlikely neighborhood legend, he lives on – in local tales of Domino sightings while he was loose in the neighborhood; in Linda Anderson’s original painting; in Shayla Fleshman’s online story; as a mosaic on Jean Graham’s Wall of Welcome in Crestview; in Lauren Cook’s book “Domino’s Dots”; and as a 10-foot-long, papier-mâché puppet, also created by Jean. The well-loved puppet led neighbors in the Procession of the Violet Crowns at two First Night Austin parades, documented in the film “First Night W/ Domino & Friends,” and he made regular appearances at the festival and other community events. In 2023, Domino’s image was tattooed on the arm of a young KUT producer. He was inspired by Domino’s story as he researched the roots of the term “violet crown” for an ATXplained Live presentation last October. Who knows where Domino will turn up next.