Job-Training Program In Southern W.Va. Marks 10-Year-Anniversary

Coalfield Development, a non-profit organization in southern West Virginia that works toward economic revitalization through new job training opportunities, is celebrating its 10-year anniversary.

Since 2010 the organization has trained over 1,200 people across the state.

The organization currently employs 34 full-time employees in West Virginia. It pairs on-the-job-training with time to pursue a college degree at a community college. Participants are also paid three hours a week to pursue personal development like life-skill training.

Someone who completes work commitments on the job for at least six months and earns at least four professional certifications is considered a graduate of Coalfield’s workforce program. Currently, about 70 percent of participants graduate.

Coalfield has invested in and owns over a dozen new businesses in the region, including a solar-installation company in Huntington, a woodshop in Wayne county, and Turnrow Farm Collective, which aggregates local produce and meats from across West Virginia. The organization has also provided financial support to an additional 30 businesses. 

Some critics of the organization have lodged complaints in the past, saying participants aren’t compensated well-enough or provided health insurance. The program now offers health and dental insurance, according to Brandon Dennison, Coalfield Development’s CEO.

“We’ve achieved significant and very tangible positive outcomes for the region, but what I’m proudest of is the fact we’ve done it from the ground up,” Dennison said. “We truly respect and listen to the people of Appalachia. We sincerely believe in this place and its people.”

In W.Va., Small Farmers Face Tough Odds as One Project Aims to Help

This story is part of an episode of Inside Appalachia about projects aimed at spurring job growth in Appalachia.

On a recent Monday morning, as the rising sun burns off the low-hanging fog and fishermen haul in their morning catches from the Greenbrier River, at Sprouting Farms, the day is well underway.

Produce has been harvested and safely stored in a giant refrigerator. Employees are packaging cherry tomatoes into plastic clamshells, activities you might find at any of the farms that dot the Greenbrier Valley.

But while the daily tasks are handled at this production-scale vegetable farm, the crux of Sprouting Farms’ mission goes beyond the fields at hand.  

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High tunnels can be rented for $30 per month at Sprouting Farms in Talcott, WV.

“Our goal is to not just make this site work, but the whole regional food system work, and we have lots of farmers and partners who are interested in making that happen,” says Sprouting Farms project Director Fritz Boettner.

In 2017, Sprouting Farms received a $1.5 million grant from the Appalachian Regional Commission. The project was an inaugural recipient of ARC’s POWER initiative, which provides federal dollars to coal-impacted communities. The goal is to diversity and help grow these economies.

Sprouting Farms aims to boost the reach of small-scale agriculture in the eastern and southern parts of West Virginia by training new farmers and providing inexpensive land and tools for budding agriculturalists. During the project’s first year, the team quickly realized to make local food production a bustling economy of scale in a state with challenging topography and a spread-out population, they needed to boost access to markets — everything from the more traditional farmer’s markets to the wholesale level, including getting more local food in restaurants and grocery stores.

“The demand is there. I’ve never really had that issue,” Boettner says. “It’s just how do we get supply and demand a lineup and how do we get the infrastructure in the middle to sort of pull it all together.”

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Tomatoes are just one of the many things grown at Sprouting Farms.

On a recent tour of the 83-acre farm, Boettner explains how Sprouting Farms is trying to break down barriers — physical, financial and market-based — so farmers can be successful in West Virginia.

Outside of the farm’s faded red barn, a row of white plastic covered greenhouses, or high tunnels, are clearly visible. Black plastic tarp is also used on some parts of the farm.

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The seed starting greenhouse is one tool available to renters at Sprouting Farms.

Some of the 30 greenhouses are used by Sprouting Farms itself, but others are rented by local farmers who may not have the space or ability to invest thousands of dollars into the equipment needed to farm in this way. 

One high tunnel immediately sticks out. An abundance of bright pink and yellow flowers seem to dance inside. Sunflowers peak out merrily from the back. This monthly renter is one of the farm’s first. Now in her second year,  renting offers the opportunity to grow a business without making costly upfront investments, Boettner says.   

“Here we’re not even talking about food,” he says. “She rents it and has a cut-flower business. She grows flowers for weddings and restaurants and things like that.”

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One renter at Sprouting Farms uses her high tunnel to run a cut flower business.

Renters pay $30 per month for a 30-by-100-foot high tunnel. That includes electricity and water. For a few dollars more, they can use the farm’s tools, including the tractor.

But what if you want to be a farmer, but don’t know how?

Training the Next Generation

Beckley resident Ruby Daniels came to Sprouting Farms in March to participate in the project’s apprenticeship program.

Daniels’ family history is steeped in farming. Her great-grandfather was a slave who came to West Virginia to cut coal out of the seams before that job was done by machines. After he was injured, the family ran an orchard and a restaurant in the area.

Daniels has a master’s degree in therapeutic herbalism, and owning her own farm has long been a dream, but she says she lacked some of the production planning expertise.

“I didn’t know how to figure out the numbers,” she says, standing in the 200-square-foot greenhouse she shares. “How do I figure out if I want to sell 20 pounds, how do I figure out how many plants do I need? This was a good program for that.”

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Daniels grows herbs, beans and other things in the high tunnel she shares.

Daniels makes herbal teas and tinctures with the herbs she grows and says Sprouting Farms has given her the tools she needs to expand.

“This is a good farm for teaching an apprentice because you see things,” she says. “And everybody does farming different.”

Sprouting Farms’ decision to both be a fully operational production farm and offer education program is intentional. Boettner says by running their own farm, the team can workshop the best ways to grow on a larger scale in West Virginia, which doesn’t have big swaths of flat land like the Midwest or California.

The farmers who rent or train here also benefit from having the staff and tools on site, he adds.

“One day I could say, ‘You know, rent two greenhouses and here’s an acre and you can make a living doing it,’” he says. “The hope would be one day that would be possible. Not only like, you can do that, but here’s exactly what you know, you could grow right now in order to do that and get an offer that assistance with business planning and so forth.”

Creating New Markets

Boettner is a West Virginia native and no stranger to farming. He grew up in Charleston, but spent a lot of time at his grandparent’s farm in Virginia. He says he always knew he wanted to be a farmer.

“I’m a West Virginian, and I don’t know — it’s like everybody always wants to come back, but opportunities aren’t flourishing,” he says. “And I also believe in trying to make things better than when I started.” 

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Sprouting Farms Director Fritz Boettner poses.

After spending some time in Colorado, Boettner did move back. He co-founded a consulting firm called Downstream Strategies. Clients began hiring him to look into different economic development opportunities for West Virginia. One that came up a lot was agriculture.

At some point he and his business partner decided to take the thought experiments to the fields.  Using a grant from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, they crafted a business plan. Then, they heard about the ARC grant.

“Right now we need to be that catalyst and I think we need to be some of those risk takers,” he says. “And to me, that’s what the investment of the ARC grant is, to try to build something that does not exist currently and it’s hard to do that.”

Marshall University’s Robert C Byrd Institute partnered with the project for the ARC grant. While it has helped launch Sprouting Farms, Boettner says there’s still a big obstacle before agriculture is a viable economy here.

“We know that here the markets are a challenge,” he says.  

West Virginia leads the nation in small farms. Of the more than 20,000 farms here, 97 percent of them are considered small and 93 percent are family-owned, according to the USDA. Most vegetable farmers in the state gross ring less than $50,000 a year, and once expenses are accounted for, it’s hardly a good living. Selling more produce, or higher-value produce, to restaurants or grocery stores, could help.

That’s why Sprouting Farms started a food hub, Greenbrier Valley Grown. Food hubs are a centralized location where farmers can bring their food for processing and to go to market. They become the middleman. Farmers tell the hub what they have to sell. The hub aggregates it and delivers it to buyers. A restaurant might be getting squash from four different farms, but it’s delivered by just one entity: The hub.

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The refrigerated truck owned by the Greenbrier Valley Grown food hub is used to transport food from the eastern part of the state to customers in Charleston, including at the Capitol Market.

Todd Schmidt, an associate professor at Cornell University who studies agribusiness development in rural communities, says food hubs are growing in popularity across the country as more restaurants, grocery stores and other institutions seek more local food, because increasingly their customers ask for it.

“The market access issue, particularly in thinking about collaborative marketing operations, cooperatives, food hubs is something that is, that is providing beneficial to small-scale producers,” he says.

‘Helping Each Other Out’

Having access to a food hub has benefited Roger Dolan, who owns The Wild Bean in downtown Lewisburg. The hip coffee shop also serves vegetarian fare and does a rocking trade in smoothies.

Dolan says he has always tried to source as much of the produce The Wild Bean uses locally, but says it was hard juggling communications with multiple farms to get what he needed. Then he found a food hub and, despite an occasional produce shortage, he says it’s a boon to business to be able to advertise the restaurant uses locally-sourced produce.

“We’re putting money right back into our local economy by supporting local farmers that are going to come to our shop and spend their money,” he says. “It’s like a cycle, we’re each helping each other out.”

This fall, the two largest food hubs in the southern and eastern portions of West Virginia are converging. Sprouting Farms’ Greenbrier Valley Grown and ReFresh Appalachia’s food hub are joining with other large producers and growers’ groups under the umbrella organization, the Turnrow Appalachian Farm Collective.

“We’re trying to achieve some economies of scale here and hopefully to get West Virginia agriculture products into bigger markets,” says Brandon Dennison, the founder of the Coalfield Development Corporation, which runs farmer training program ReFresh Appalachia

The West Virginia Department of Agriculture estimates West Virginians consume $8 billion of food annually but the state only produces $800 million. If the new combined food hub can boost the amount of locally produced food bought by West Virginians by just a few percentage points, it could have big returns, says Jim Matson, an agricultural economist based in South Carolina.

“We’re not trying to replace every amount of food that comes in there with local food in most cases,” he says. “We’re just trying to add a little bit to it that can help to support these local families, add to local communities.”

Just the Beginning

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Sprouting Farms in Talcott, WV.

Back at the farm, Boettner and I climb to the top of a hill to get the birds-eye view of Sprouting Farms.

As we look out over the land, dotted with white covered high tunnels, he reflects on the work they’ve accomplished so far.

“I’m happy with the progress we’ve made, absolutely, but I also know there’s an extremely long way to go,” he says laughing.

Boettner says as the project goes into its second year, it does so with more data and feedback on what has worked so far, and what hasn’t. One thing he doesn’t question is the appetite for more local food. 

Sprouting Farms has two more years of federal funding from the ARC for the first phrase of the project. They’re hoping that in the meantime, they can find a way to be more self-sustaining, bringing a profit to their organization, to continue after the grant runs out.

'Is it a Good Idea for Me to Leave my Children Here?' – Crystal Snyder's Struggle to Stay, Part One

This week we meet the next person we’ll be following in our Struggle to Stay series. 37-year-old Crystal Snyder is a single mother of two, who says she wants to stay in West Virginia, where her family has lived for several generations. But being a single mom in West Virginia is challenging for her, and sometimes she worries whether raising two kids in this state is good for their health. 

15 years ago, Crystal Snyder’s mom was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer, which had already spread to the rest of her body. She died a few weeks later when Crystal was just 22 years old. 

“When you see a map and it shows you this area of poverty, people die 15-20 years earlier than they do over here in Virginia, and your mother died at 41, it kind of makes you think…is it a good idea for me to leave my children here? Like, part of me wants to take them out so they don’t die 15 years, you know, premature. But…just part of me wants to fight for them because this place is so beautiful.”

Crystal has blonde hair, and her face is tanned from working in the sun. On her back, she has a tattoo of a fiddle; actually the tattoo covers up the name of her second husband, a marriage that was a mistake, she says. She’s made other decisions she isn’t proud of, but being a mom isn’t something she regrets.

“My kids and I, we have a good bond. It’s not been easy.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grtOuNrwhlI&feature=youtu.be  

Crystal married early, when she was 16. She had her son Aaron a year later, and her daughter Morgan when she was in her 20s.

“I just want to cherish these moments, cause I know it’s not gonna last long, and I am single, and it’s just us, and I’m just trying to relish in these moments. Cause I know I’ll look back and remember, years down the road, this important time that we had together. And I love them.” 

Crystal recorded one of her first entries at her home, while she was cooking dinner with her daughter Morgan. While they cook, Morgan tells her mom about an episode of McGiver.

Morgan says she hopes she’ll soon be taller than her mom. At nearly 5 feet, she’s close.

"I love to see new places, but nothing compares to West Virginia."

“She’s independent. She’s been independent since she was like four,” Crystal said, looking down at her daughter with a smile. “She would never let me brush her hair, or pick out her clothes. She always did it on her own. I wanted to because she has beautiful red hair, you know, and she wouldn’t ever let me brush it, but she just developed like her own style, and I’m glad we did that because she knows a lot.”

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Crystal Snyder, who is part of a farmer-training program called Refresh Appalachia, fixing a weed eater at a farm in Milton.

"I used to call the mailbox dad. I'd drive by the old Cabell County courthouse and I think, 'thats where I used to see my dad.'"

“I’m proud I keep a house. Somehow I keep it going. I just somehow always find a way. I don’t give up.”

There were some scary things that happened to Crystal when she was a little girl.

She remembers late night parties, with strangers coming into their house, drug deals at the home, and fights between her parents. 

“It was total neglect. But my mom…had been abused as a child, and it was just turmoil. No, she loved us. But…no…they didn’t know how to take care of kids. No, it was neglect, and abuse. And I was an accident and they weren’t going to have me. Then [my mom] decided not to have an abortion, or maybe she saw my heartbeat, I don’t know. So I’m really lucky to be here.”

“But I wasn’t two, and my mom and dad were fighting, like they fought constantly, and my mom kicked my dad out of the house and said to take me too.”

As a girl, Crystal moved back and forth between her grandparents’ house, her mom’s, and her dad’s. Her parents broke up and got back together several times. Her dad was in and out of prison for most of her childhood, serving time for selling drugs. 

"I wanted a stable family. I wanted, I guess, people to care about and who cared about me."

“So I was like a baby before I remember, the first time. I mean I drive by the old Cabell County courthouse and I think, ‘that’s where I used to see my dad.’”

And then, Crystal’s mom met a guy at a truck stop, left with him, and never looked back. Crystal was just 15. She only saw her mom a few times after that.

“She’d come back and visit and say, ‘I’ll never live here again.’ And, I don’t know, I thought she was brave for that, but, I wanted her close.”

Around this time, Crystal decided she wanted a family and kids of her own.

“I wanted a stable family. I wanted, I guess, people to care about and who cared about me.” 

Hoping her children are safe and healthy is what weighs heaviest on her mind. 

“But just as much of me wants to fight for them, because this place is so beautiful! And I just feel so blessed to live here. And I should be able to live here with clean water! And (sighs) I think the part of me that wants to fight is stronger than the mother in me that wants to get my kids out of here.”

"I'm proud that I shine my light still, maybe more so than if I hadn't of experienced darkness."

But beauty isn’t the only reason Crystal wants to stay in West Virginia.

“I love to travel. I love to see new places, but nothing compares to West Virginia. It’s just not home, like, if you see flat… if you see too far, it’s like, this isn’t right.”

And although Crystal doesn’t have a lot of family here, she does have a sister, who’s a year older. Having that tie is important – especially getting to see their two daughters grow up together.

One evening last summer, they came to Crystal’s house to cook dinner and play.

It had been raining all day. As Crystal and her sister were cooking in the kitchen, the sun peaked through the clouds, and Crystal noticed her niece Olivia and her daughter Morgan dancing and running in the rain. They looked up to see a rainbow peaking out from behind the clouds. 

It’s moments like these that make Crystal want to stay, to raise her kids in the mountains. So, she’s going to continue to try to live here, and to make West Virginia better, and safer.

What is Crystal most proud of?

“My tenacity. I’m proud that I shine my light still, maybe more so than if I hadn’t of experienced darkness.”

We first began recording Crystal’s story in January of 2016, in the middle of a major life change. She’d recently been laid off from her job at a nearby T-shirt factory.

We’ll hear more on that next week on The Struggle to Stay

'I Would Rather Die Than be a Burden' – Colt Brogan's Struggle to Stay, Part Two

20-year-old Colt Brogan always found it easy to make fairly good grades in school. As a kid, he’d dreamed of being an architect. But that changed. Around the time when he was a junior in high school, Colt decided college wasn’t for him.

“It felt too unpredictable. I thought, dealing drugs is safer than going to college. That’s the God’s honest truth,” says Colt.

He didn’t have a lot of money for college, and he knew he couldn’t count on his family for financial assistance. Taking out loans just felt like a gamble to him. College wasn’t familiar, and he didn’t really know a lot of people who knew much about higher education. Drugs though—that’s something he saw regularly. So, at 17, just before he moved out of his mother’s house, he considered becoming a methamphetamine dealer.

“I could have made money that way. I mean, probably would have been an addict. And had an awful life. Made bad choices, went to jail, become a felon. It’s not a good road to go down, but it is lucrative and available.”

This story is part of the Struggle To Stay series. Reporters have spent 6-12 months following the lives of 6 individuals as they decide if they will stay or leave home – and how they survive either way.

He says this was the lowest point in his life, because he was headed down a path he didn’t like. He was smoking marijuana, and he’d begun experimenting with hard drugs, like heroin, crystal meth, and abusing prescription pills, like a lot of his friends and family.

“I didn’t like myself, at all. I didn’t want to be in this world. I would rather die than to be a burden on somebody else. I didn’t want to be that, I’ve seen that too much. I just wanted to be a productive member of society.”

Everything changed when he heard about a job working for the Coalfield Development Corporation on a project called Refresh Appalachia- a two and a half year training program to learn farming.

The job became his ticket to stay in southern West Virginia, but also a way for him to leave his home, and the drugs, behind. He had to pass a drug test to get the job.

He says he quit drugs cold turkey, but it wasn’t easy.

“How I believe I got out is, and I think what makes me a little bit different from other people, is I came from a background with strong emphasis on religion. So I had something to believe in. I had hope, where other people can’t see hope.”

He had faith, but he still didn’t have a place to go. So he asked for help from a friend he knew from agriculture class, Adrianna Burton, and her mom.  

He says he didn’t know many other people he could stay with, where he wouldn’t feel tempted to use drugs.  

It took about two months until Colt felt in control of his emotions again and stopped snapping at people.  

He started to feel better, to think more clearly.

He wrote music to refocus his mind. 

The summer after he graduated high school, Colt got the job with Refresh Appalachia, where he now works. He actually works at the same high school he attended, growing vegetables in the Lincoln County greenhouse and helping mentor the agriculture students.

His big dream is to one day own a farm or a ranch in Lincoln County. He’d like to be able to hire people, maybe even give teenagers a chance to work and stay, if they need a place to live.

“I know I never had nothing like that. And I know I wouldn’t have hung out with the people I hung out with, or did the things I did if I would have had a big ranch to live on and food to eat every night.”

He shares that dream with Adrianna. Around the time when he got the job with Refresh Appalachia, in June of 2015, they started dating.

“At the time, there would be like a lot of future motivated text messages between us,” Adrianna recalls. “And one of them, from way back then, is still my screen background on my phone. And it’s basically like, we are going to overcome all this, I’m gonna be your husband, we’re gonna have a farm, we’re gonna have 18 kids cause that’s the joke that he had back then,”

Colt and Adrianna say they want to encourage teenagers here to feel hope, and help them learn to grow their own food. Adrianna is going to college at West Virginia University and wants to become a high school Agriculture teacher.

“I want to show these kids that there is an industry that you don’t have to be shady in,” says Adrianna. “Like you can do this right and make something of yourself. Cause even though people might not like to hear it, we’re not always gonna need coal miners. We’re not always gonna need oil rig operators, but we’re always gonna need farmers.”

Meanwhile, Colt’s trying not to worry too much about the details of what he’ll need to do to stay. Like…how much it costs to buy farmland.

“I feel like a home, or land, no matter how big or how much, it’s what you make it,” says Colt. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. A lot of West Virginians say, ‘it’s the most beautiful state, why would you want to leave?’ Then on the other hand they’ll give you fifty reasons why you might want to leave.”

Despite the high rates of drug abuse, and poverty, there is more that Colt loves about this state, and Lincoln County.

But is that love enough to keep him here? We’ll hear more on that next week on The Struggle to Stay.  Note the audio version of this story may have language that is not suitable for young listeners. 

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