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Kids, Squash, and Saving the World, Crystal Snyder's Struggle Reaches Breaking Point – Part Four

This is the fourth story about 37-year-old Crystal Snyder. It’s part of our series called The Struggle to Stay.
Last time, we found out that Crystal, a non-traditional student, was in her first semester of college, while also working 33 hours a week for a job-training program called Refresh Appalachia.
Last summer was an especially stressful time for Crystal, and by August, things got worse.

“We had a little bit of a falling out. I think I was demanding a lot, maybe not approaching things in the right way,” Crystal said. She’d been putting pressure on Aaron to improve his grades in school; he was about to start his senior year of high school. She also wanted him to help more around the house. Remember from an earlier Struggle to Stay episode, we heard that Crystal has been going to school and working full time, so she was having a tough time cooking and cleaning at home.

“I was under so much pressure. And I was wanting him to help. Just sort of demanding that he do things around the house. And help me with his sister and so he said something really disrespectful, and I told him to leave. And he did,” Crystal said after their fight. Guilt and regret showed on her face, as she stood in the field and fought back tears.

“It ripped my heart out. Because I don’t feel like he’s at a safe place. And if something happened to him I would just never forgive myself, you know?”

Aaron didn’t answer her calls, and she didn’t hear from him for weeks after he left. She knew he was staying with his dad, her ex-husband, but she was still worried.

“I don’t know what he’s doing and what he’s eating and if he’s around second hand smoke, just all of those things that goes through a mother’s head.”

Then in mid-June, about 9 weeks after they had their falling out, Aaron’s step brother was killed in a go-cart accident.

Aaron came home after that. Things got better between Crystal and her son, but she could tell he was having trouble with the death of his stepbrother. He was quiet and she could tell he was hurting.

Also, every time she mentioned school, he changed the subject. She eventually found out that he’d dropped out of high school.

“He had to do really well this year to graduate. And he lost his stepbrother in June, and it just wasn’t possible for him to do perfect, to pass everything to be able to graduate. So here we are and that’s ok,” Crystal said, sighing.

“But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t gonna … well no, I’m not gonna say worry. Worry’s not a good thing. I want… I want to live a good life. I want my son to be secure and stable. I want to do that so I can extend that to them, to my children, to my community. I just want to be self-sustainable, self-reliant.” Saying this, Crystal threw up her hands, feeling defeated. Her dreams felt out of reach.

The Trouble with the Squash Plants

Crystal planting squash at a farm in Milton, W.Va.

Then, things got more stressful at work. Remember those squash plants she was planting in July? Well, the heavy rains washed away most of the seeds that she’d sewn. For about a week, she had to work dawn to dusk to replant the fields.

Caught up in Presidential Election

She was half-way through re-planting the seeds when she left for vacation. She’d been planning it for a few weeks now. Well, it was kind of a working vacation. Here’s something I haven’t told you about Crystal. During the last presidential election, she was head over heels for Bernie Sanders. She felt like he was the first politician who understood her struggle.

“These politicians are on the side of the greedy corporate billionaires, the 1 percent, while people like me can’t pay the rent and buy food.”

Bernie Sanders rally in Huntington, W.Va. in 2016

For the first time, Crystal had someone to root for as a leader of her country. And it was important for her to attend the Democratic National Convention (DNC) in Philadelphia and volunteer for the Sanders campaign.

So in July, she was given three days off work on the farm to go to the DNC.

Trouble at Work

But once she got to Philadelphia, the people she was getting a ride home with said they planned on staying till Friday, the same day she was supposed to be at work. She didn’t call or text her boss, but she did send a message.

“And so I sent an email late Wednesday night, midnight, early Thursday morning. I was due to be back at work Thursday. I said ‘I’m sorry, I can’t make it. I can’t make it in the rest of the week.’”

When she came back, her boss Ben Gilmer asked why she didn’t just call or text. Crystal remembers being frustrated with the question, and it turned into a bit of an argument.

She recalls saying something like this to her supervisors:

“’You know what? I was in Philadelphia, fighting for our democracy, our freedom. Like cut me some slack. And that’s what I said, and I think they’re upset about my attitude about it than the actual aspect of me emailing instead of calling in. So, yesterday they told me I would be on like a probationary period. And if I was late or didn’t show up for work, which never happens, then I would be terminated.”

Crystal Snyder, beside a pond at the farm in Milton where she’s been helping grow squash for her job with Refresh Appalachia

The threat of losing her job, combined with the trouble she was having with her son, her intense disappointment that Bernie Sanders lost the primaries, and the pressure of having to replant the entire squash field in the midst of everything else, was too much.

She was in the squash field, replanting seeds, when she recording this entry, in tears:

“I’m not sleeping at night, and I’m having like chest pain. And just so much [expletive] pressure! I feel so alone.”

The words Crystal’s mom wrote to her three weeks before she died of cancer

She tried to call her sister, her only family who she is close to, but she couldn’t get ahold of her.

“See these are the times when I just want like, and maybe it’s just like something in me, that is like seeking an outside comfort. But it would just be really nice if there were like a mother or a father or a grandparent or an aunt or an uncle or someone who I could just like hug and would just tell me it’s gonna be ok. But it’s not. Like I’m the one who has to lift everyone else up, and I like doing that for people but sometimes I just need somebody to be that person for me.”

The next morning, Crystal had to go to a special meeting with her bosses, and talk about what would happen next.

We’ll hear more about that on the next Struggle to Stay.

Want to catch up what you’ve missed? You can listen to the full Struggle to Stay series here.

Juggling Work and School, 'I Will Get it Done'- Crystal Snyder's Struggle to Stay, Part Three

Crystal Snyder is a mother of two who’s working a new job with a program called Refresh Appalachia, which is helping her learn how to farm. About three thousand squash plants were grown from seed by Crystal and her co-workers in the summer of 2016. That summer she also returned to college. In this installment of The Struggle to Stay, we’ll hear what it’s been like to juggle work, school and taking care of her family.

They planted in mid-July, a bit late to start growing squash. Crystal’s employer, Refresh Appalachia, had just gotten word that a regional project to sell squash throughout the east coast was a go, and so they had to plant fast and hope that things worked out.

I caught up with Crystal in a muddy field one August morning last summer, while she planted seeds.

She was covered up to her knees in mud. It had been raining and the ground was sopping wet. “So it’s basically three acres of three different varieties of squash. We’ve been fighting the weather and getting the ground broke. I just think it’s beautiful. There are hills all around, beautiful trees and old barns.”

"I'm most pumped about learning. Getting my hands in the dirt."- Crystal Snyder

The plan for all this squash is to ship it to a group in Virginia called Appalachian Sustainable Development, a regional food hub that distributes food from Maryland to Atlanta.

Crystal dreams of one day owning her own small farm, and she says this program makes that goal feel possible.

“We’ve been learning a lot about how things work on a farm, but actually being out here with our hands in the soil, that feels good. I’m excited to see what we can produce here.”

After spending four hours in the mud and rain, it’s time to shift gears and head off to Mount West Community and Technical College, where Crystal is working on her associate’s degree. She’s in a five week summer class, an English and Writing course. There isn’t time for lunch today. And there isn’t time to change clothes. So she cleans up the best she can and changes out of her mud boots.

"And I'm sort of feeling the pressure of procrastinating and not having internet at the house to do the research. But I'm confident that I'll get it done."

“I’m gonna go to the tutoring lab and submit an essay that was due last week. I’ve been in a five week class. So it ends next week, so I’m like under the gun to get some essays submitted.”

Crystal isn’t quite sure which assignment is due today, or if she’ll get a reprieve for turning her previous assignment in a day late. She goes into the computer lab, and begins typing. She already handwrote most of the essay at home.

She submits her music essay, and then heads to class.

After talking with her teacher and listening to the lecture on writing a persuasive essay, Crystal decides to go home and focus on writing her next assignment, which is due in a couple of days. Anxiously, she admits she hasn’t started on it yet.

“And I’m sort of feeling the pressure of procrastinating and not having internet at the house to do the research. But I’m confident that I’ll get it done.”

She did turn that paper in on time. A few days later, Crystal was up late finishing her final paper, which is about mushroom farming.

“It’s due in five hours. I’m embarrassed to say how much I have to do on this. It’s a really important subject and I want to make sure I get it right. I’ve avoided it for too long. Five weeks go by fast. I’ve got to get this done. I’ve got to get this out of the way so I can just breathe. I don’t know I need to do it I guess and stop thinking about it.”

Crystal ends up getting a C in this English Class, not what she had hoped, but she’s happy she passed the class and made it through her first semester.

But, things get stressful pretty quickly about two weeks after the semester ends.

“I’m not sleeping, and I’m having like chest pain, and just so much [expletive] pressure.”

A lot can happen in a couple of weeks. We’ll hear about it next time on The Struggle to Stay.

'I Will Stay Here, Because I Feel Free' – Kyra Soleil-Dawe's Struggle to Stay, Part Three

It’s nothing unusual to think about leaving your hometown after you graduate high school, but sometimes it’s not an option to leave, and sometimes, as we’ve heard, leaving can be difficult and expensive, too. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side.

But making it work financially here in Appalachia, well, that’s tough, too.

The past few months, we’ve introduced you to three Appalachians on The Struggle to Stay series.

Recently, we’ve heard from 20-year-old Kyra Soleil-Dawe in Shepherdstown, West Virginia who, at the age of 17, started a small theater group called Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions, or WSP.

The company has grown since its beginnings in 2014, and now WSP is putting on its third and biggest production, William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

Kyra hopes this show will help to establish WSP as a credible theater group – one that’s recognized and taken seriously.

“I know it’s so hard, and I can’t imagine it would be any harder than what we’re already doing, which is just getting people to believe it. Getting people to believe that we are real, and that we are here, and we mean business, and just because we’re young, does not mean that we are any worse off; that we are any less talented.” – Kyra

Achieving this dream is part of Kyra’s struggle to stay.

As a reminder to our listeners, Kyra identifies as genderfluid and prefers they, them, and their pronouns.

West Virginia Public Broadcasting takes us back to the story, where Hamlet is just about to open to the public.

The Timber Frame Folly in Shepherdstown.

Opening Night

It’s late October 2016 – nearly Halloween, and it’s finally time. It’s opening night for WSP’s production of Hamlet.

While the cast was getting situated back stage, Kyra was walking around the performance space, making sure everything was ready to go, and chatting with guests.

“I am okay. I’m a little non-feeling right now, because I’m kind of in shock that this is happening,” Kyra said, “This is happening right now. It’s happening right now. We’re opening in like… it’s 7:22 p.m. We open in 38 minutes.”

Since Kyra’s first show in 2014, WSP has been performing here in this space – the Timber Frame Folly located in the woods on the outskirts of Shepherdstown. The Folly is a wooden structure built a little over 20 years ago. It’s used as a performance space for the community, and it’s situated in a grassy clearing, surrounded by trees.

“Yeah, no, this – this space is definitely home.”

Seating is either in the grass or on benches cut from logs. The space is rustic and charming.

A large crowd has turned up. Everyone settles in…and Hamlet begins.

(left to right) Joshua Riese, Ben Johnson, Koty Crawford.

The cast gets a standing ovation. The audience laughed at the Shakepearean jokes, there was silence during the dramatic moments, and the cast just had a lot of energy.

There were about 50 people who came out to see the opening show, which Kyra says is an accomplishment considering their very first opening night, back in 2014, only had 8 people in the audience.

“Everything is just better than when we first started. The sets and the crews, and the actors and the acting, and the text, and the lighting, and just the; we have merchandise, like what is this world that we live in, I mean this was just like an idea that developed in my parents’ basement, and now we’re like here.”

The entire run of Hamlet – all four shows – made about $5,000, so Kyra was even able to pay their actors and crew.

Several members of Kyra’s family also came out for the show, including Kyra’s mom, Kathleen Dawe. At the time, Kyra was just beginning to ask friends and family to use they, them, and their pronouns, so Kyra’s mom still uses she and her in this interview.

“I’m so proud of Kyra,” Kathleen said, “She’s always been a go-getter. She’s been a doer since minute one. I remember coming in when she was four-years-old, pretending to be 8 and being on homework hotline. She was writing and winning writing contests in first grade, and she has always excelled. There are a lot of reasons why one can’t succeed, but when I look into that little fireball’s eyes, do I want to think that she can’t succeed? No, I really think she might. I think she might.”

Pronouns & Acceptance

While Kyra’s mom does support her daughter, it’s been tough to understand Kyra’s struggles with gender identity. It’s been hard for all of Kyra’s close family.

“The fact that they’re trying to make an effort means a lot, because it is an accommodation,” Kyra said, “They are trying to accommodate me, however, I would say that I would really hope that people, and families, and anybody who is associated with transgender or genderfluid, or nonbinary, or androgynous people make those accommodations, because it’s a sign that you care. You know, do you care about grammar more, or do you care about that person more? Do you care about your perceptions of girl and boy more, or do you care about your kid more? And I think that those are the lessons my family’s learning right now, that I’m learning right now as well. But I love them dearly; they love me back. We’re working out the kinks in between.”

Being genderfluid, Kyra says there are some places in West Virginia where they don’t feel safe, but that’s not the case everywhere.

“I feel very safe in the panhandle of West Virginia, even Martinsburg, Fayetteville especially, and also, you know, Jefferson County very, very accepting. We’re also very close to D.C., and Maryland is doing pretty, pretty good on those efforts to make those people feel comfortable.”

Despite those safety concerns, Kyra still supports this state.

“Oh, I’ll always fight for West Virginia. That’s why I got it tattooed on my body, but uh, cause I care. And this is home.”

New Opportunities, More Dreams

So, Whiskey Shine and Pantomime’s production of Hamlet came to a close. Kyra started writing an original play they hoped to showcase for the public in the summertime, and Kyra continued to juggle a handful of jobs and lived paycheck-to-paycheck.

And then, in May 2017, Kyra got hit with some big news.

Kyra learned their mother, Kathleen Dawe, and father Brighten Dawe, were moving out of West Virginia…to Colorado for a job opportunity.

Now, Kyra’s conflicted whether to follow them…especially for their mom.

“Cause I don’t think I’m just my mom’s kid, I think that I’m one of my mom’s best friends, and my best friend’s moving away, so that’s, that’s really scary,” Kyra said, “but it is good. It is a good thing, but it’s sad that they have to leave me to do it…But my family was certainly an incentive to stay in West Virginia, because I had my family here, but now I don’t really have that, so it is conflicting, cause I’m the only one here now, and of course my parents want me to follow them to Colorado, and it is tempting, there’s a lot of cool stuff down there, but I’m not ready to leave here. My life is here.”

You see, ever since the family moved to West Virginia, finances have been a battle.

Kyra’s dad is a computer programmer, and he got a job here in the area in IT, or information technology, when Kyra was six-years-old.

When the family first arrived to West Virginia, they had money put away in savings from other jobs, and they did well for a while. The family bought a nice big house, lots of art, a couple cars – Kyra started out well-off.

But the job Kyra’s dad picked up here wasn’t as lucrative as the family hoped, and the savings and paychecks started to dwindle.

When Kyra was old enough to work, they started helping to pay their parents’ bills.

“They were stuck in West Virginia, because they had so much debt,” Kyra explained, “and they had all these mortgages to pay off, and no stable footing, no retirement set up, none of that, so you’re basically trapped in a big’ole house that you can’t afford, and so for my father to receive this incredible job opportunity in Colorado is huge, and it is the only way they could get out.”

Kyra says, even though they’re sad to see their parents leave the state, Kyra will stay – as long as they don’t feel the same trapped feeling their parents’ felt.

“That’s why I will stay here, because I feel free, but the second I’m unable to leave, the second I feel like my freedom is squandered, I will have to leave, because I will not tolerate that, because I watched my family go through that for the past decade.”

This past June, Kyra put on their fourth theater production at the Timber Frame Folly, and things have been going well for Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions.

In fact, earlier in the year, in February, WSP was made into an LLC, or limited liability company.

This was Kyra’s dream, for years. Now – WSP is an official licenced company in the state of West Virginia.

To Kyra’s surprise, it wasn’t as hard to do as they thought it would be…just a little paperwork and a hundred bucks.

But that was just the beginning.

“It was so terrifying to become an LLC. It’s really scary to have my name on that, because I’m so worried I’m gonna screw it up, but at the same time, I can’t think that, otherwise, I’m gonna. I have to think that I’m gonna prove all those other little business owners that told me I couldn’t do it, and that it was too hard, and that blah, blah, blah, you can’t do it, no, thank you, I’m not gonna take that for an answer, I’m gonna do it, but I’m terrified that I can’t. But I’m gonna try my hardest to prove them wrong.”

Becoming a business owner at 20-years-old, is scary for the same reasons it’s exciting to Kyra. This is a big step towards digging in long term roots and settling for good here in West Virginia.

Kyra’s next dream for WSP is to have a theater space to call their own, to continue to make art and thrive right here…in Appalachia.

'We Are Real and We Are Here' – Kyra Soleil-Dawe's Struggle to Stay, Part Two

Last week, we met Kyra Soleil-Dawe, a 20-year-old aspiring theater director and playwright who lives in Shepherdstown, West Virginia.

“And this place is so beautiful,” Kyra said, “how would you ever wanna leave it? And I hope that I’m not the only one that sees that, I hope that I’m not the only one that sees that there’s something really incredible happening here.”

Kyra hopes to make it here in West Virginia as a young artist, having started a small theater company called Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions in 2014 at age 17. Kyra’s goal is to get it licensed as an official company. The success or failure of the group plays a pivotal piece in whether Kyra stays or leaves Appalachia.

Just to remind our listeners, Kyra identifies as genderfluid, so throughout Kyra’s Struggle to Stay, we’ll be referring to Kyra with they, them, and their pronouns.

We left off last time during auditions for Kyra’s production of William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

Kyra follows along in the script during the first rehearsal for Hamlet.

Forming WSP Productions

It’s a late, summer night in August 2016. I’m in the basement of Kyra’s parents’ house where the last auditions for Hamlet are taking place. Hamlet will be Kyra’s third and biggest play since forming WSP Productions. It’s also the first-time Kyra’s held auditions for a show.

After almost two hours, auditions are over. Kyra and best friend and stage manager, Lydia Johnson, are feeling pretty good with the turnout.

“People came out and took it seriously,” Kyra said.

“They took it seriously,” Lydia agreed, “They’ve been really respectful. They showed up on time,”

“Right, and filled out their paperwork,” noted Kyra.

“Which like, not being part of a company that’s recognized – and working with actors is kind of like herding cats, so the fact that everybody actually showed up, and it wasn’t like two people showed up, and then ten people said, oh hey, but could you do it some other day, cause I can totally make it out, but like, next week,” Lydia explained.

Kyra was pretty nervous before auditions started, but they were also excited. Kyra says, hosting auditions really made it feel like like WSP was beginning to go somewhere.

“Everyone took to direction really well,” Kyra said, “and everyone that auditioned was older than I am, not that, that really matters, but that is something in my mind that I am one of the youngest people participating in this show, and I’m the one running it, and everyone just treated me, and the rest of our crew behind here listening in on auditions, with absolute, just complete and utter respect, and that’s so great, and I had so much fun. I’m so excited to do this show. I’m so excited to work with these people.”

Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions was formed not just by Kyra alone, but with help from two people. Kyra’s boyfriend, Ben Johnson, and his older sister Lydia played a major part in forming the company three years ago. Kyra even refers to the two of them as their “tribe.”

But more than just a hobby between friends, WSP developed into a conduit for Kyra’s artistic expression.

“It’s nice that we can make it sound all nice and professional with WSP Productions,” Kyra noted, “We have stickers, we have t-shirts now; it feels like we’re so real already. I’m so pleased about it, but what was once a joke is now just becoming kind of a dream come true.”

Fears & Finances

Kyra is determined to stay in West Virginia and make WSP a lucrative business in their childhood home. But, at the same time…Kyra is also terrified of feeling trapped.

“As long as I can leave, I wanna stay, but that’s the common misconception about West Virginia is that you live here, and you get stuck here,” they said.

So, one way Kyra deals with that fear is through traveling.

“Because it’s proof to myself that I can always leave; that I can always choose something else; that to me is ultimate freedom.”

Travel, like with art, is something Kyra says they need – but to travel, you need cash; to get cash, you need work – and financial security is also something on Kyra’s mind.

Kyra gets some support from family, like using the basement at their parents’ house for rehearsal space. But despite that, Kyra says their family isn’t able to financially support them. In fact, Kyra says their family has some financial struggles of their own, and Kyra often helps out.

So between Kyra’s own bills, their family’s difficulties, and keeping WSP afloat, Kyra’s budget is pretty tight.

During the entire production of Hamlet, Kyra works four jobs – as a raft guide, selling cheese on a goat farm, as a barista and manager for a coffee shop, and as a freelance photographer and filmmaker. But even with all those jobs, Kyra says they only take home about $16,000 a year.

“Because of the lack of opportunity here? It worries me, because when is that gonna be me? When am I no longer gonna be able to afford to leave, you know? If I can’t leave, then why am I staying?”

So, Kyra’s really hoping Hamlet will bring in more money, while also helping to get WSP on the map.

The cast of Hamlet sit together during the first read-through.

A few weeks later, Hamlet rehearsals are in full swing.

One early morning, after a full night of rehearsing, Kyra recorded an update on their iPhone on how things were going. It was around 1:00 a.m.

“I just had an argument with one of my actors, and it was fine, it was totally fine, we hugged it out, and it was okay, but…I’ll get off of my day job, and all of these people want me to make these decisions, and it’s…it’s my own damn fault. I am the one to make these decisions, I signed up for that, but half the time, I just feel like, oh my god, I don’t even know what I’m doing, I don’t even know what I’m doing…”

Kyra recorded this late night update while sitting on the back patio at their parent’s house. It was early fall, September, but you can still hear the cicadas.

“I want to prove everyone wrong. Everyone says that it’s impossible. I’ve had so many conversations with business owners, and it always just ends in them saying it involves so much sacrifice, and I know that, I know it does, I feel it every day. I spend hours just making our social media look pretty. I spend hundreds of dollars trying to help get the word out, and I spend so many nights that I don’t sleep just so that I can come up with a plan. I know it’s so hard, and I can’t imagine it would be any harder than what we’re already doing, which is just getting people to believe it. Getting people to believe that we are real, and that we are here, and we mean business, and just because we’re young, does not mean that we are any worse off; that we are any less talented.”

Opening night of Hamlet is just around the corner, but will the outcome be everything Kyra hoped for?

And what about Kyra’s family, who have financial burdens of their own? How will that impact Kyra’s Struggle to Stay?

Music was provided by Marisa Anderson.

Finding Myself in 'This Beautiful, Beautiful Place' – Kyra Soleil-Dawe's Struggle to Stay, Part One

In 2014, when Kyra Soleil-Dawe was 17-years-old, they formed a small, theater company out of West Virginia’s Eastern Panhandle in Shepherdstown – a historic, artsy, college town just miles from Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsylvania.

We’re using the pronouns they, them, and their when referring to Kyra, because they identify as genderfluid or genderqueer, which are terms within the LGBTQ community. Kyra was born female, but doesn’t identify exclusively as female or male – but somewhere in the middle.

It was theater that helped Kyra come to terms with questions about gender and identity. It helped with one of the darkest periods of Kyra’s life – during middle school.

Kyra wants their theater company to be licensed and to be a sustainable business here in Appalachia. Kyra wants to be taken seriously, recognized for their talents, and make a profit. Part of Kyra’s struggle to stay rests on this dream.

West Virginia Public Broadcasting has been following Kyra’s story for about one year. We step back to August 2016. Kyra was still 19-years-old at this time.

“My name is Kyra Soleil-Dawe, and I am deciding whether to stay or leave to pursue better artistic opportunities. I really want to stay, but I’m told I really should leave, so I’m trying to make what some people say is impossible happen, and make a very high quality of work in a place that a lot of people stigmatize as not a high quality place to work.”

Kyra wears a Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions t-shirt.

Dreams Down By the River

Kyra sits on Shepherdstown’s iconic stone “Wall” eating a burger and fries. They’re sporting a t-shirt with the Whiskey Shine and Pantomime Productions logo or WSP for short – that’s the name of Kyra’s theater group.

Kyra’s dream is for WSP Productions to become an official company – they’d love to own a business or a small profit theater company before turning 20 – but knows it won’t be easy.

It’s about 9:00 p.m. This is Kyra’s favorite time of day.

We walk from the “Wall” down to the Potomac River on the West Virginia side – it’s here where Kyra comes to think.

It’s dark, except for the stars and the reflection of the moon on the water. Street lamps twinkle in the darkness from a bridge connecting West Virginia and Maryland just a few hundred feet away. Cicadas chirp loudly around us.

We stand on a concrete boat ramp, just steps away from the warm water, and we’re the only ones here.

“I love bodies of water, it really helps me think. I love coming down here to think,” Kyra said, “I’ve had a lot of really great discussions with people that have come and gone through my life, and almost every single conversation, I always am pushing this dream that we can be successful artists in West Virginia; that we don’t have to just go across the river, we don’t have to go across the country, we don’t have to go anywhere to make the work that we wanna make.”

Shepherdstown is Kyra’s home. Though Kyra was born in California, they moved to West Virginia at the age of six.

“And this place is so beautiful, how would you ever wanna leave it? And I hope that I’m not the only one that sees that, I hope that I’m not the only one that sees that there’s something really incredible happening here, and my fear of both leaving or staying is the fact that it won’t ever get acknowledged unless I go elsewhere,” Kyra explained, “but if I go elsewhere, it won’t be derived from this place; this beautiful, beautiful place.”

(left to right) Ben Johnson, Kyra, and Lydia Johnson during auditions for Hamlet. Lydia is Kyra’s best friend and stage manager.

Theater & Coming Out

Just a few days after this interview, I attended the second day of auditions for Kyra’s latest production – William Shakespeare’s classic tragedy, Hamlet. Auditions were held at Kyra’s parent’s house, just a few miles from the heart of Shepherdstown.

Shakespeare has actually played a large role in Kyra’s life. In fact, it was one of the playwright’s other plays, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, that was a turning point for Kyra.

“When I was in junior high, I was in my first Shakespeare play, and I was really confused; everybody’s hormones were crazy and vicious, and so were the people,” Kyra remembered, “and I didn’t really fit in with the girls. I was really bad at being a girl; I’m still really bad at being a girl, and I didn’t really fit in with the boys, cause I still was a girl, at least I thought. And I got bullied really hard.”

Kyra says this point was the most difficult time of their life. Kyra was beginning to recognize they were genderqueer and struggling with identity.

“I just felt so lost and confused and kind of empty, and I really genuinely thought that, like, if things didn’t get better by high school, I would try to opt out in whatever way that applied. Whether it meant, like, leaving, running away, or, like, actually attempting suicide, whatever that looked like, I knew that was very real for me, because I just did not enjoy what was going on at the time, and that’s like nobody’s fault, it really isn’t, but that’s how I felt mentally.”

Things changed for 12 year-old Kyra when they were cast as Helena in A Midsummer Night’s Dream; a character who’s an outcast and no other characters seem to love. Kyra connected with Helena to a T. And for the first time, Kyra felt in control.

“It finally gave me something to connect to, and as a weird, seventh grade kid who doesn’t know how to act like a person, or a girl that was a really big deal. That was a really big deal. I learned that I could pretend, and if I could pretend, I could make it through. And then in learning how to pretend, I realized everybody else was doing the exact same thing; sometimes without realizing it,” Kyra noted, “So it took me out of that very vulnerable place of feeling very put down by my peers and by myself, and being in a weird body and not knowing what that was and coming into a queerness that I did not know I had, and it gave me, not just an activity, but like a philosophy, like a way of life; to kind of fake it til you made it, or fake it til you fake it some more. And although that sounds kind of terrible, that is absolutely what I needed in that moment,and that’s part of the reason that theater is, like, my life. It’s my philosophy, it’s my world, it’s how I see the world, and it saved my life.”

A few years after playing Helena in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Kyra came out as bisexual to friends and family. And that was tough.

“I would say there are definitely some growing pains, but my family supports me as a person, pretty much unconditionally, and I hope to see those growing pains actually be real growth in both their person and mine, and our relationship. It’s hard. I’m not gonna lie.”

And then during their senior year of high school, Kyra came out as genderqueer, or genderfluid.

“Being a pansexual, non-binary person just means I don’t necessarily identify really strongly as both male or female, I just feel kind of masculine, and that’s just fine, so I’m just a person. That’s all that means.”

And then underneath this self-discovery was theater. Theater helped Kyra feel more self-assured, more grounded while coming out.

Back at the Hamlet auditions, Kyra’s feeling nervous but excited to get the show cast.

We’re in the basement of Kyra’s parent’s house. On the patio outside, a handful of other local actors – all millennials – chat, smoke cigarettes, and wait to be called in to audition.

Kyra and Lydia look on as Ben auditions with local actor Koty Crawford.

Inside, Kyra’s boyfriend Ben Johnson is reading for the part of Hamlet. Kyra gives him some pointers.

“I’m really hoping that this production kind of establishes us as really credible, right? I want people to, like, I want people to realize the talent that I’ve realized in these people, and it’s really helpful to do that with, like, a big name production." Kyra on Hamlet.

In just a couple of months, Kyra’s latest theater production, Hamlet, will open to the public. But how will Kyra handle the weight of directing such a big show? One where Kyra rests so much hope? And how welcome does Kyra feel here given their gender identity?

More next time on Kyra’s Struggle to Stay.

Music was provided by Marisa Anderson.

Stronger Together – Mark Comb's Struggle to Stay, Part 4

Last September Mark Combs and Cameron Elias Williams set out for California hoping to develop careers in the arts and entertainment industry. But once they reached Denver they found it difficult to get their lives financially under control. They also fought loneliness.

“It’s been, it’s been kinda tough to be honest. I didn’t think I would miss people back home this much,” Mark recorded after a lonely Thanksgiving in Denver.

Unfortunately, things went from bad to worse.

The Enemy Inside

When spring rolled around, Mark reported that their furniture was being reclaimed, they were facing possible eviction, and … life handed him another blow.

Mark is an Iraqi war veteran with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder who spent all of the previous year working on media campaigns to bring more awareness about the epidemic of veteran suicide. He’s also no stranger to suicidal thoughts himself. He’s personally lost one war buddy after another (one good friend, Tyler Burroughs, committed suicide just before he left for L.A.).

Mark got word this spring he’d lost another brother. “He was a Navy corpsman, a medic. He was attached to the Marines,” Mark recalled with a heavy heart.

Dan Alexander was a close friend of Mark’s in Morgantown, West Virginia. The news came as a shock, and for a few days the cause of death was unknown.

“I’ve never been in a situation where I hope somebody OD’d, but I don’t know if I could take another suicide. It’s beginning to wear me out,” Mark said.

Dan died of a heroin overdose. This is the second veteran buddy Mark's lost this year, and it wouldn't be the last. He lost another veteran friend the same way – to heroin – three weeks later.

“This is how it happens,” Mark said after hearing about another veteran friend’s death. He was referring to vets killing themselves. “I’m tired of fighting.” War just rages on for vets like him; the nightmares run on repeat, especially, he mentioned, if temperatures reach above 85 degrees while you try to sleep. “The only difference is, now the enemy is on the inside.”

Financially, Mark did begin to get back on his feet, well, kind of. He and Cameron did lose their furniture, but they were able to borrow some money for rent to avoid being evicted.

“There’s just constant feeling like we just keep failing. We try and try and we just fail and fail.”

Lily and TC (short for Terror Czar) in Denver.

Strength in Numbers

It may seem like Mark and Cameron set themselves up for failure in California by not preparing enough, not having the resources to get them where they wanted to be. But in some ways they were more prepared than most because they had each other.

“I have nobody here other than Cameron. I don’t know what to do without him,” Mark said.

“He’s one of the strongest dudes I know,” Cameron reported one night. “Physically and mentally he’s been through a lot in life. But any time he gets knocked down he gets back up and just start swinging harder. So I always know in the back of my mind, he’s going to be alright.”

Eventually, Cameron and Mark decided Denver wasn’t the right place for them. Still, returning to Appalachia was not an option.

"West Virginia and Colorado have so much in common," Mark observed one spring evening. "The difference is Colorado is working towards the future, and West Virginia is fighting tooth and nail, clinging to the past."

“We are about as down and out as you can go,” he added, “and in no way in my mind am I am like, ‘Yeah, I’m ready to go back.’ No, I’m not.”

Shifting Life Targets

“You know this whole experience of taking a leap of faith, driving all the way to Cali, kind of falling flat on our face, having to backtrack, come here [to Denver], and once again kind of getting smacked in the face by life. It’s been a very eye-opening experience,” Cameron recorded one afternoon on a walk with his dog Lily in Denver.

Hard times and isolation from friends and family forced both Cameron and Mark to reevaluate some life goals.

“Before I used to think like, ‘I just want to make it big. I want to make millions of dollars.’ I mean, that’s still the end goal — shoot for the stars as they always teach us — but it’s not important to me. It’s just the perk of it all. What is really important to me is my friends, my family, and living a life that my parents raised me to live and being the person that they they raised me to be.”

“Money’s not involved in that at all,” Mark added.

Together, he and Cameron decided when their year-lease is up this October, they’ll move to Chicago, where Cameron has family and they both have more friends.

And even though Mark is determined not to return to Appalachia, his thoughts keep drifting back to West Virginia.

“I see the people in West Virginia. I see their struggle. There’s more that can be done right now and there’s a whole hell of more to focus on than just trying to bring coal mines back.”

After being in Denver for half a year, Mark started joking about going back to school – this time, law school – so he can more effectively take on certain Appalachian politicians.

But it sounds less and less like a joke these days.

“Ultimately, I would want to focus on public interest law to help protect our environment, our people, and give the next generation the best fighting chance that they have. Somebody has got to.”

He still wants to go to Chicago, but he’s adapting his dreams of thriving in the entertainment industry and instead is considering returning back to school.

“WVU’s got one of the greatest law schools in the country. It’s a top 100 law school,” said Mark. “And, you know, it would be nice to be back around people that I grew so attached to.”

“Who knows where this journey is going to end up,” he added.

Cameron wants to continue to focus on developing a career in the music industry and is working on a master’s degree. He also wants to be closer to his family, some of whom live in the Chicago area.

“I’m an open book with blank pages just waiting for words to be written down to finish the story. I have no idea. It’s weird no idea what’s next. But I’m excited for it,” said Cameron. “Whatever the future holds, I’m ready.”

Looking Forward

The next chapter looks like it will be in Chicago. It looks like it will include more friends and family. And it looks like it might have some funny in it.

“Being here in Colorado, being on this trip, and just so much stuff going wrong and the depression that’s followed has provided both Cameron and I with just a ton of source material for a stand up comedy,” Mark said.

Will Mark and Cameron head in different directions? Will more education open different doors? It’s hard to say without a crystal ball. We’ll leave Mark and Cameron’s Struggle to Stay story for now, but we’ll continue to follow these far-flung native sons to find out, a year from now, how they fare.

Music in this episode was provided by Marisa Anderson. This story is part of an ongoing series called The Struggle to Stay, available on the Inside Appalachia podcast.