Graduate School Work

Graduate Thesis

The following pieces are excepts from my thesis, “Anxious Millennial Mixtape: 10 Tracks.”

The Future of Vertical Farming

On a cold day in October, I went to Cultivate the City’s farm in Silver Spring and met Niraji (Raj) Ray. As I made the 50-minute drive from Alexandria to Silver Spring, I ran through my list of questions for Raj, the CEO of Cultivate the City. I was hopeful that he’d offer inspirational quotes for the future of sustainable farming. Based on his photo on the “about us” section of their website, I guessed that Raj was in his thirties. A Millennial looking for ways to help the environment and his local community is one that I admire. After working in the environmental industry for a few years, it’s easy to find the Millennials who are exhausted from trying to find a ray of hope in the overhead cloud that is climate change.

I was in my first semester pursuing my MFA in Creative Writing from American University. I was excited about the prospect of writing a paper for class that incorporated my knowledge of agricultural practices negatively impacting our local waters which I had spent the last four years learning about while working for The Alliance for the Chesapeake Bay.

The prompt for our final in my Culture of Information and Technology class was to write about a relatively new technology that we’re interested in. I’d had minimal experience with vertical farming, but I liked the idea of how it could provide solutions to creating more sustainable agriculture. Vertical farming, in short, is when crops are stacked on top of each other instead of next to each other, which you see in horizontal, outdoor farming. Typically found indoors, vertical farming is beneficial for growing crops in controlled environments while conserving space. Today, you will find most vertical farms in urban settings. Urban farmers automatically see the benefits of optimizing their minimal space with the ability to stack crops on top of each other. In addition, growing in a controlled environment means not relying on seasons and allowing farmers to grow seasonal products all year round.

My next step for my paper was to visit a local vertical farm to learn more about how it’s done and for insight into our future of food. Of the three vertical farms I reached out to in the area, Raj was the only one who got back to me. Through his business, Raj operates farms in various locations: one on the rooftop of the Nationals Stadium in Washington, D.C., another at Gallaudet University where they oversee a Community-Supported Agriculture (CSA), and a third which coexists with PlantsAlive, a company that rents out plants for parties and events.

When I arrived, I pulled into a dirt road with a greenhouse on my right and a small outdoor vertical farm built out of recycled produce cartons on my left. I passed some chickens in a coop next to the greenhouse when I ran into Raj almost immediately. We had set up this time to meet, yet he still seemed surprised to see me. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a baseball cap – all of which was covered in dirt. I must’ve caught him as he was in the middle of planting something, but he was happy to drop everything to give me a tour of his passion projects.

When we walked into the greenhouse we ran into Aiyana, the garden manager who was placing a thermometer in what looked like a pepper plant.I had assumed, with all the work they do at Cultivate the City, that there would be multiple employees, and I was surprised to learn that it’s just Raj, Aiyana, an intern, and a few volunteers.

Raj first gave me a tour of their production greenhouse. He explained that while growing food is his passion, they started selling plants wholesale to earn revenue. In the greenhouse, Raj showed me guava plants, mangoes, spicy peppers, and more. All these tropical plants, he explained, can only be grown this time of year in the heat-controlled greenhouse. He said a single mango tree could sell for a couple thousand dollars. And while it costs them about $3,000 at minimum to heat the greenhouse through the winter, he can get that money back by selling a few tropical plants. Along with the plants, Raj also had leafy greens growing in vertical hydroponics for the CSA. 

When I asked him how much the hydroponics cost, he admitted they were expensive but could make money back relatively quickly. For example, the hydroponic tower that we were looking at, about three feet tall, costs around $500, and they use it to grow sweet basil. In a month, they can sell four pounds of basil for $15 a pound, making $60 a month and thus getting their $500 back in a year.

The first time I learned anything about vertical farming and hydroponics was the summer after I graduated from college and started working at a locally sourced restaurant in Baltimore City. The owner and chef, Spike Gjerde, is well-known in the Baltimore community for having fancy, expensive gourmet restaurants. The common theme among his restaurants is that all the ingredients are locally sourced, which means constant menu changes and the lack of some common ingredients in a typical restaurant, such as lemons and tequila.

In the summer of 2017, Gjerde was looking to challenge himself, so he decided to rent the empty lot along the harbor, dump a bunch of sand into it, and call it “The Sandlot.” The Sandlot had casual beach bar vibes while trying to sell overpriced locally sourced burgers, corn dogs, and craft beer. The burger was $15, which didn’t include any sides, a common complaint I received from customers when they ordered it.

Before opening the restaurant for the summer, part of my job as a server was exploring the farms where the food came from so we could be more educated when telling customers about where our food came from. On one of the properties, the farmer’s son was experimenting with growing hydroponic microgreens in an old shipping container. This was my first experience with hydroponics. They were stacked in what looked like trays with about 24 egg-sized dips on each tray, each filled with a tiny green plant. Hydroponics is a form of hydroculture that uses a water-based mineral nutrient solution to grow plants without soil.

Gjerde liked what he saw and set up two shipping containers on the Sandlot property, along with a greenhouse where we planted tomatoes. The idea was that we’d be able to serve people food at this beach bar from ingredients we grew on the same property. But unfortunately, that summer was a mess. Multiple people quit because of the taxing work that went into not only being a chef but also a farmer, which included working early mornings and late nights and the servers were tired of telling customers we couldn’t make them a margarita or get them a Bud Light because “they aren’t local to the area.” In addition, the measly amount of food we could produce from the vertical and indoor farms could not meet customer demand. 

I worked at the Sandlot during their first two summers. Near the end of my second season there, Gjerde had loosened up a bit on his locally sourced rules to keep the restaurant afloat. In its five summers of operation, it’s hard to imagine if it ever turned a profit. Despite its lack of financial success, I applaud Gjerde for his ambitious goals for more sustainable dining. We need more chefs and restaurant owners like Spike Gjerde who are willing to take risks to find more sustainable ways to serve food. 

I forgot all about my minimal experience with vertical farming until a couple of years later when I was working at the Alliance for the Chesapeake Bay. The environmental non-profit sponsored an annual film festival fundraiser; where I played a role in selecting a short film titled, “Vertical, The Future of Farming.”

The film sheds light on the environmental toll of conventional farming, highlighting issues such as deforestation, water consumption, and high food miles. In response to these challenges, Nexgarden, a forward-thinking startup based in Portland, Oregon, delves into the realm of vertical farming as a potential solution. By exploring innovative agricultural practices, Nexgarden seeks to address the detrimental impacts of traditional farming methods on the planet.

According to the film, Dr. Dickson Despommier, a professor at Columbia University, pioneered the concept of vertical farming. Beginning with the idea of rooftop farms in urban settings, Dr. Despommier’s vision evolved into the concept of stacked indoor farms. His groundbreaking book, The Vertical Farm: The World in The 21st Century, catalyzed the movement, paving the way for the proliferation of vertical farming ventures worldwide.

The film showcases the practicality and potential of vertical farming through glimpses into real-world examples such as FarmOne in New York City and Sky Greens in Singapore,. These initiatives not only demonstrate the feasibility of growing fresh produce in urban environments but also highlight the importance of localized food production for enhancing food security. With ongoing efforts to refine and expand vertical farming technology, the film concludes on an optimistic note, emphasizing the role of innovation in shaping a more sustainable future for agriculture and the planet.

It seemed clear that Raj wasn’t hoping to become rich in the vertical farming industry. He left his job at the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) because he enjoyed spending his time in gardens and farms more than at a desk. Raj loves experimenting with new farming technologies and seeing how different foods can grow. He told me, “I enjoy the STEM-related aspects of hydroponics. It’s not farming like the way our grandparents did.” Raj enjoys getting younger generations excited by encouraging them to think about farming differently and introducing them to fun, new technological advancements. “If you had told high school me that I was going to be a farmer, I would’ve laughed at you,” Raj chuckles. 

Raj founded Cultivate the City in 2015. He was already living in D.C., working for the EPA. Under the EPA, Raj oversaw Texas National Parks, managing their resources for endangered species. While working in this field, he learned that the main culprits for degrading coastal environmental quality were agricultural runoff and concentrated animal feed operations. This realization sparked his interest in experimenting with vertical hydroponics.

The food systems around the world contribute a third of all greenhouse emissions entering our atmosphere, and the most significant contributor to that is agriculture. Annual CO2 emissions from American farms are equivalent to emissions released from 143 million cars. Additionally, the food system profits roughly 116 billion dollars annually. In the New York Times mini docuseries, “Meet the People Getting Paid to Kill Our Planet,” U.S. Senator Cory Booker states, “You cannot solve the climate problem unless you fix the American and global food systems.”

Small, family-owned farms are not the reality of farming in America anymore. Instead, most of our food comes from a small number of huge farms across the nation. Some environmentalists will argue that these farms operate more like factories than anything else, also known as “industrial agriculture.” 

Three major components of conventional, industrial farming are warming our planet. The first is from plowing and tilling, which emits carbon dioxide from the soil; the second is nitrous oxide from fertilizing the crops; the third is the methane released from cattle. On top of the major pollutants entering the atmosphere, people are also affected by their water supply being contaminated by farms upstream. Peter Lehner, a lawyer for Earthjustice states, “Farms are essentially putting poop in our drinking water” (3:24).

People are quick to point fingers at oil and gas companies such as Exxon and BP as the most significant contributors to polluting the planet; however, industrial farming is right up there as a leading cause of climate change. Industrial agriculture today is one of the largest sources of water pollution, air pollution, and greenhouse gas pollution.

Something needs to change. We still need the food system to feed the world, and we need scientists, environmentalists, and farmers to work together to develop alternative farming methods. Vertical and indoor farming has become the next step toward sustainable agriculture in the past decade. A key benefit of moving farms indoors includes little to no air, water, and soil pollution.

Vertical/indoor farming uses roughly 99% less water than an average traditional outdoor farm since the water is usually recycled. Growing crops indoors also means minimal pesticides used and thus no water runoff polluting our natural resources and drinking water. By moving farms indoors, most plants are soil-less, and the amount of land used is decreased significantly, avoiding soil erosion and the CO2 emissions from tilling soil in outdoor farming. If more farms moved indoors, we’d be able to save forests from being cut down to provide space for farms and thus help improve the air quality. Every time trees are cut down for agriculture, not only are the farms releasing CO2 into the air, but the trees that were helping absorb the CO2 are now gone. The benefits of vertical indoor farming are clear, but I wonder if it can keep up with the food demand like conventional farming can.

I could walk into a grocery store right now and find any fruits, vegetables, or meat that I could want, thanks to the abundance of food produced by current agricultural practices. The food is most likely traveling to get there, but it’s conveniently there when I need it. According to the USDA’s Economic Research Service, agriculture and its related industries account for 10.3% of U.S. employment. In 2022, median farm operator household income exceeded median U.S. household income by 27.9% ($95,418 compared with $74,580). Traditional outdoor farms can be unpredictable with weather and other unforeseeable issues. However, ultimately, these larger industrial farms are turning a hefty profit. 

While vertical farming has its benefits, it also has its faults. The biggest concern with vertical farming is how much energy is used to power the LED lights and keep the room climate controlled. Unfortunately, there’s no information released from some larger vertical farms. Still, according to author Victoria Numkung in her article for the Guardian, “The 2021 Global CEA Census Report found that greenhouse growers used 15-20 times as much energy, on average, and vertical farms used a little over 100 times as much energy as outdoor lettuce growers in Arizona.” And while you could argue that farms could use renewable energy, the amount needed is massive. In the same article, Numkung points out, “If you put a vertical farm in a skyscraper like the World Trade Center to grow lettuce and wanted to power it with renewable energy like solar, you would have to bulldoze the rest of the island of Manhattan to make room for panels to generate enough power just for the lights of that building.” Because of the high amount of energy needed, that also makes for expensive energy bills, not to mention the new technology that farmers would need to purchase to start their vertical farms.

Plenty Unlimited Inc. is one of the more well-known vertical farms in the U.S. because of its large scale. Plenty currently has three operating vertical farms, as well as opening later this year, the world’s largest, most advanced vertical farm on a 120-acre campus near Richmond, Virginia in partnership with Driscoll Berries. On the Richmond campus, Plenty plans to grow 4 million pounds of strawberries annually. According to a press release issued by Driscoll and Plenty, over the next six years, $300 million will be invested into the new campus, which is slated to bring more than 300 jobs to Virginia. Plenty’s farms won’t operate he same as the large-scale industrial farms. Still, it’s the start of a long journey to find a much-needed replacement for conventional farming. 

Deciding to join the vertical farm movement is bold. It’s expensive and still new. When Baltimore chef Spike Gjerde opened Sandlot, he had support and funds from his other successful operations in the city. He also went in knowing that it was a temporary set up. Gjerde worked with Beatty Development Group who were temporarily holding off on any development for five to seven years. The Sandlot was a great way to use the empty space until development started. Last summer, the Sandlot switched to a different location and was taken over by Bar Movement, a bartending company owned by husband and wife, John and Mary Miller. The Sandlot now serves a full bar and has rotating food trucks – no more vertical farms, shipping containers, or locally sourced food and drinks. 

Raj’s mission at Cultivate the City is simply to “help people grow stuff.” He wants to teach anyone who is willing to listen how to activate underutilized space for themselves, nature, and their wallet. Raj ultimately wants to get people excited about growing and to start thinking about what space they have available to do it. 

Raj went to India for a conference when he was in graduate school, studying Environmental Science and Resource Management where he presented on vertical farming techniques. While he was there, he met a farmer who was interested in working with him on growing strawberries. The farmer in India now has a 22-acre strawberry farm, and I got to check out Raj’s outdoor, vertical strawberry garden (about 10 X 12 feet). Raj told me that most strawberries you’ll find this time of year are likely coming from South America and said if anyone claims the strawberries are domestically grown, they were most likely grown vertically. 

I’m not normally a fan of strawberries, but when Raj offered me one from his garden, I had to accept. I held three strawberries the size of quarters in my palm. They had the perfect combination of sweet and tart. A strawberry that I could enjoy guilt free.

 Raj said part of why he picked D.C. to start Cultivate the City instead of New York or Chicago was because of the abundance of sunlight hitting the rooftops and the warmer climate. He predicts that we will start seeing an influx of vertical indoor farms arriving in D.C. in the next couple of years.

After my visit to Cultivate the City, I left feeling optimistic. Not because I believe vertical farming will solve all the problems associated with traditional farming, but because I have faith in people like Raj. They are passionate about what they do and are willing to explore alternative methods of food production. When I asked Raj if vertical farming was the future of farming, he said, “Without a doubt.” He told me that he felt like indoor and vertical farming is low-hanging fruit (no pun intended), and as we get more involved with it, he is sure there is a way of farming that we haven’t even imagined yet.

Reshaping Easton

In 1991, my parents moved to Baltimore, Maryland, from Granville, Ohio, with my two older siblings in hand, knowing little about the area. My dad had picked up the hobby of sailing as a teenager, taking out a Sunfish on Lake Michigan, where his family would spend a few weeks every summer visiting Door County, Wisconsin. A few years into their East Coast move, my dad wanted to continue his hobby and bought a 31-foot Pearson sailboat named “Home Office” from an ex-naval officer in Annapolis. My dad kept the boat at a local marina on the Middle River in Baltimore. However, he and my mom felt that Middle River, surrounded by the city, no longer fully captured what they had in mind, after hearing about the beauty of the Chesapeake Bay.

Interested in finding a more charming location, reminiscent of his childhood escapes to Door County, my parents packed the three of us up and on Easter weekend of 1996, with recommendations from friends in Baltimore, explored and fell in love with the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Ultimately, they decided to keep their boat at Mears Marina in the small historic town of Oxford, which has a population of roughly 800 people. The two-hour drive felt worth it to my parents in order to take the boat out on the beautiful Tred Avon River.

After spending most weekends visiting the area, my family purchased a small house in the neighboring town of Royal Oak in 1998, which would become our “shore house.” Fast forward about 25 years, and now my parents are retired, living full-time in a house they purchased in Easton (about five miles away from the previous house) three years ago during the pandemic. The house is situated on the Tred Avon River, where, with a pair of binoculars, you can see the same Oxford Marina where they first started. My family’s story is one that is not unique to the ever-evolving town of Easton, Maryland, especially post-pandemic.

In 2020, when COVID-19 hit, city dwellers who could afford to leave their homes fled to nature and the outdoors. This included people who already had second homes in the area, like my parents, opting to stay full-time, and people who did not own property on the Eastern Shore, but who were looking for some fresh air and ecotherapy.

I reached out to local real estate agent, Chuck Mangold, to get a better sense of how the housing market was impacted by COVID. I had grown up seeing the name “Chuck Mangold” all around town. I would find his name on houses for sale and on the menu at my favorite restaurant, the Washington Street Pub, so when I received an email back from him saying that he’d love to meet me, I was ecstatic. I immediately texted my family in our group chat that I was going to meet the local celebrity.  

When I walked into his office, the receptionist let him know that I was there. He came flying down the stairs with more energy than I could handle for 4 p.m. on a Friday. He reached out his hand and said, “Chuck Mangold, nice to meet you.” He suggested that we walk over to P. Bordier, a pastry shop, for some coffee while we do the interview. I had avoided P. Bordier in its roughly five years of business as I’m not the biggest fan of the owner, Paul Prager, but more on that later.  Everyone who we passed on our four-block walk waved hello. I was unclear if Mangold knew everyone or if he just gave off that friendly vibe. He ordered a coffee and three cookies, finishing them all during our interview then telling the staff at the counter, “Don’t tell my wife I ate three cookies before coming home for dinner.” It became obvious during our 30-minute chat that he was a likeable guy in town, and I could see how he earned the title of local celebrity and managed to get a sandwich named after him.

Mangold is an Easton native and has been involved in real estate since 2001. He recalls the pandemic having a significant impact on the housing market on the Eastern Shore. Throughout the 2010s, Mangold had between 50 and 100 listings, 25 to 30 on the water. Between January and June 2020, properties sold so fast that he could not keep anything listed. “We had a crazy town here for a while. We had people from New York, Philadelphia, and other nearby cities come up to people’s houses around here and knock on their door and say, ‘I’ll give you $50,000 a month to rent your house the rest of the year’.” Mangold realized this was an excellent opportunity to call up his clients who had initially wanted more money for their houses; however, now, these people wanted to stay. “So, in addition to all the people that were coming here, we had the people already here who started wanting to use their vacation homes more, who weren’t using them before,” he told me.  

Now, as we begin to recover from the pandemic, more people are working from home or only having to go into the office for a day or two, allowing for more “outsiders” (as the locals refer to them) to stay in Easton.

The phenomenon of wealthy city dwellers seeking an escape during the height of the pandemic is not limited to Easton, Maryland. Sun Valley, Idaho, another popular vacation destination, experienced a similar situation, with the wealthy tourists moving in full-time and displacing the existing locals who were getting priced out of their homes. The median sales price of a home in Sun Valley was $1.3M last month, marking a 42.7% increase since last year. However, according to the 2022 census, Sun Valley has a population of 1,842, while Easton boasts a population of 17,357. Sun Valley thrives on and relies upon tourists who come to ski, whereas Easton has an established economy without as much reliance on “outsiders.” The most common employment sectors from 2020 to 2021 for those who live in Easton, MD, were Health Care & Social Assistance, Professional, Scientific, & Technical Services, and Retail Trade. Another distinguishing factor is Easton’s accessibility to nearby cities, roughly a two-hour drive from Baltimore, Washington D.C., and Philadelphia. The ease of commute was facilitated by the construction of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge in 1952, which has brought more traffic and people to the area.

 I met Margaret Bryan through my friend’s grandmother who lives in Londonderry with her, a retirement community in Easton that is situated near the only public waterfront area in town, Easton Point. My friend’s grandmother moved to Londonderry when her daughter, my friend’s mother, retired to Easton in 2018 which is thanks to my parents who introduced them to the area, which is the case for many of the residents at Londonderry. However, Maragaret was born and raised in the area, except for the few years she attended college at the University of Maryland. She was the perfect person to interview to gain insight into how Easton has changed over the years.

When I walked into Margaret’s building, I didn’t even need the code she gave as someone saw me coming in and opened the door for me asking if I needed any help finding anyone. Margaret had warned me that there’d been a rise in COVID cases at Londonderry but assured me it was safe. I got the sense when I first spoke to her over the phone that she was desperate for human interaction, “They won’t let us eat in the dining room because of the COVID cases. They bring me my food in a bag to my door, as if I’m a caged animal.” As predicted, Margaret was all smiles when she saw me, sitting in her floral chair facing the TV next to a picture of her in front of balloons with the numbers, 100. 

Margaret, who lived through the Depression and World War II, regards the building of the Bay Bridge as the most monumental change to life in Easton, aside from COVID, when the area saw a surge in visitors. She imagined that the number of people who cross the bridge on an average Friday afternoon would have taken the previous ferries over a month to transport. The once isolated location became accessible, bringing people who could now travel within a few hours. “We found the world, and the world found us,” she said. “It changed everything. Property started selling, and developers found us.” This changed their secluded, small town forever. While COVID intensified the interest of people seeking refuge from crowded cities, the interest in the area has always existed. 

The reason my family came to the area and Easton’s main attraction is the Chesapeake Bay. With its numerous tributaries, creeks, and rivers, if you stretched out all the shoreline in Talbot County, it would reach 600 miles from Easton to Georgia. As the second largest estuary in the world, the Chesapeake Bay is home to unique and delectable creatures such as blue crabs and oysters. The Bay provides work for generations of Watermen, as well as crab pickers and workers in other seafood industry jobs. However, the number of Watermen continues to diminish due to resource scarcity, declining interest, environmental regulations protecting against overfishing, and the high cost of living in the area. For centuries, seafood and agriculture have been the Eastern Shore’s primary industries. But the effects of climate change and agricultural runoff which leads to the bay’s pollution with nitrogen, phosphorus, and sediment, pose a significant threat to the health of the waterways, the critters, and even the people. However, environmental non-profits in the area, such as ShoreRivers, along with local municipalities and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), are actively working to safeguard the Chesapeake Bay, including measures to slow down development in the region.

To better understand the laws limiting development on the Eastern Shore, we need to trace the roots back to the environmental movement of the 1970s. In the late 1970s, U.S. Senator Charles “Mac” Matthias sponsored a seven-year, $27 million research project to analyze the rapid loss of wildlife and aquatic life in the Bay. This research played a pivotal role in forming the EPA’s Chesapeake Bay Program and the first Chesapeake Bay Agreement in 1983. The findings from the seven-year study were published in September 1983, and the one-page Agreement was signed on December 9, 1983.  One year later, the Maryland General Assembly published the Chesapeake Bay Critical Area Law, significantly impacting development in Easton.

The Maryland Critical Area encompasses all land within 1,000 feet of the Chesapeake Bay’s tidally influenced water bodies. This 1,000-foot stretch serves as an “overlay zone,” imposing additional requirements on any development within the underlying zone. Easton’s critical area has four classifications: Intensely Developed Area, Limited Development Area, Resource Conservation Area, and Critical Area Buffer. The primary objective of the Critical Land Area Law is to minimize impacts on water quality and natural habitats in the Chesapeake Bay. This law significantly restricts new waterfront development.

Chuck Mangold estimates that approximately 90% of Easton’s waterfront land available for construction is already developed. According to Mangold, most waterfront properties are owned by individuals seeking vacation homes. He told me, “D.C. and NOVA are always growing, and to spin off that, creating more people who will want second homes here.” Mangold predicted in January 2020, well before the discussions about COVID-19, that a situation would arise where sellers would decline offers from potential buyers. He anticipated a scenario where market activity would drastically decrease as neither party would concede. “All COVID did was turbo-charge something that was already underway,” Chuck told me.  

Deena Kilmon, the Director of Strategic Initiative at Easton Economic Development Corporation (Easton EDC), a non-profit organization whose mission is to help small businesses in historic downtown Easton and to help foster a healthy quality of life for all generations, expresses her concerns with the housing market in Easton. Kilmon, who has adult, Millennial and generation Z children aspiring to remain in the area and start families of their own, highlights her daughter’s struggle. Her daughter, a teacher, faces difficulties finding affordable housing within Easton. Her daughter’s real estate agent is showing her houses in more cost-effective neighboring towns such as Federalsburg and Cambridge, rural areas located 30 to 45 minutes away from Easton.

 As of September 2023, home prices in Easton increased 10.1% compared to last year, with a median selling price of $435,000. In contrast, the median house price in Cambridge is currently around $280,000 and $175,000 in Federalsburg.

“She’s a teacher in Easton; she should be able to live where she teaches” Kilmon expresses her frustration for her daughter, who is currently living with her. She underscores that her situation is not unique, mentioning friends who also welcomed their adult children home during the pandemic and who, similarly, have yet to leave due to the lack of affordable housing. These individuals want to stay in the area for the same reasons the wealthy residents came in: they enjoy the outdoors and appreciate the recent amenities Easton now provides. “Our children are trying to stay now that they see Starbucks and Target. Those things are just as attractive to the stay-heres as the come-heres,” Kilmon explained.

The come-heres are the people who have recently moved to the area and who aren’t originally from the area, and the stay-heres are the long-time locals. “I’ve been here 25 years, and my children are from here. My husband is from here. My children were born here. We are not come-heres” Kilmon says. Her family hopes to continue living in the beloved community where they were raised but are hindered by the unaffordability of the area.

According to the Talbot County Board of Education, the average salary for a starting teacher is $49,924. Meanwhile, the current median rental price for a two-bedroom apartment or house in the area stands at $1,700. That’s half of their monthly income. “These young people; teachers, firemen, policemen, they are not finding anywhere to live, and we need them. These are not come-heres; these are from-heres,” Kilmon says. I must admit that looking into Kilmon’s eyes while she talked about the “from-heres” and the “come-heres,” I felt a certain amount of guilt as someone who is considered a “come-here.”

Taking part in updating Easton’s comprehensive plan, Deena Kilmon’s summer interns at Easton EDC took an interest in what the youth wanted to see happen in Easton and spent the summer surveying them. They brought that survey to Talbot County’s planning and zoning department, aiming to relay the desires of the town’s younger demographic to shape the future. Kilmon recalled an insightful response from Dre, a 14-year-old intern, who identified affordable housing as the most pressing issue. Dre emphasized in a presentation to the planning and zoning department, “We need more places for people to live.”

Holly Dekarske, the Executive Director at Easton EDC, reminded Kilmon that Dre had experienced housing issues himself, “We have a one percent vacancy rate. There’s hardly anywhere to live, and if there is, you can barely afford it.”

Kilmon and Dekarske recognize the influx of affluent residents purchasing available properties alongside the challenges posed by restrictions on new developments. Kilmon pointed out the existing housing spectrum, noting the abundance of million-dollar luxury houses and smaller ranch-style homes, with an absence of smaller townhouses suitable for essential workers like nurses. Their concern stems from apprehensions that local developers, who typically profit from high-density living projects in places like Annapolis, may not find constructing townhouses or small homes in Easton financially rewarding. Instead, they might opt for building more lucrative luxury homes.

The dilemma extends further due to limited available land. The prospect of more development faces resistance from environmental advocates worried about potential damage to the Chesapeake Bay. It also encounters opposition from wealthy, second-home residents fearing increased traffic due to affordable housing initiatives.

Kilmon and Dekarske reference a recent housing development in Trappe as a prime example of the community’s resistance. Trappe, situated approximately eight miles south of East within Talbot County, approved of the Lakeside housing development in February 2022. Currently, single-family homes are available for purchase or lease in the neighborhood. The Lakeside project includes 2,500 single-family homes, more than double the population, with only roughly 1,200 residents before Lakeside came in. Local residents I spoke to in Easton were surprised that the plans for Lakeside received approval from the Maryland Department of the Environment (MDE). ShoreRivers, a respected local environmental non-profit, echoed these concerns.

During a public hearing held by the MDE on October 28th, 2021, Matt Pluta – the Choptank Riverkeeper and a ShoreRivers employee – received a standing ovation after critiquing the MDE for what he perceived as a failure to protect the local waterways. Pluta emphasized that the MDE-issued permits, in the view of the nonprofit, were scientifically questionable. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and the Bay’s neighboring states have a collective 2025 goal for bay restoration, which, according to recent EPA computer modeling, will not be met unless efforts to reduce excess nutrients are tripled throughout the bay’s watershed to enhance water quality.

Complicating matters, the Lakeside project encroaches on part of the critical area, prompting more than one hundred concerned citizens to attend the MDE public hearing. They unanimously opposed the new development in Lakeside, primarily citing worries regarding its environmental impact and the anticipated increase in traffic on the already bustling Route 50 that passes through Easton.

However, while these concerned citizens stress environmental and infrastructural concerns, they might overlook the necessity for new developments to accommodate the growing interest in the region.

According to Kilmon and Dekarske much of the resistance comes from those who recently moved to Easton from the cities. They arrived during the pandemic, purchasing houses that were previously available for rent and now approaching local commissioners to complain about the number of tourists. The Talbot County Department of Economic Development and Tourism reported tourism as one of the leading industry sectors, with 662,000 visitors annually. The local businesses rely heavily on tourists. According to a study by Tourism Economics, visitors spent $303 million and directly supported 1,986 jobs in Talbot County in 2021. The costs of rentals in the area have gone up 45% in the last two years.

According to Dekarske, the individuals who are coming to her complaining about tourists are the same ones who lament the absence of services like Uber in the area. Dekarske believes that people tend to forget that Easton differs from the cities they originated from. “People need to remember that this is a rural community. Easton has just enough of that stuff to make it feel like you are back in your city. You can go to Harris Teeter, and we have a CVS and a Target. But what people forget is that we are still a small rural community. There are only 40,000 residents in Talbot County.”

When discussing the future of Easton with Kilmon and Dekarske, both expressed their hope for more affordable housing options and increased rental availability in the area. Kilmon highlighted that a house in her community of Beachwood recently sold for a record price of $475,000. This house was previously occupied by a young immigrant family who were renting. Kilmon’s own house has appreciated $100,000 since the pandemic hit. “And it’s just a normal neighborhood,” Killman tells me.

Chuck Mangold holds an optimistic view regarding Easton’s trajectory. He believes Easton is at its peak, seeing the most people ever, and downtown looks better than ever with the help of New York City native Paul Prager. Prager is the founder of Beowulf, a company that acquires and develops industrial power, oil, and gas facilities, as well as the CEO and co-founder of Terawulf Inc., an infrastructure-focused bitcoin mining company. Prager’s net worth is estimated to be around $58 million.

Mangold, as well as other residents I talked to applaud Prager for helping restore downtown Easton. Mangold credits Prager for increasing living wage jobs and running his establishments well. He tells me as we sit in his empty pastry shop on a Friday afternoon. “Some people call us the Hamptons of Washington D.C., which doesn’t resonate well with me, but it does kind of capture the spirit of what’s going on here,” he said. I imagine that, as someone who spends his weekends hunting and fishing with his two sons, it’s hard to make that connection between the rural, brackish watered, Eastern Shore and the pristine, uppity, elitist – Hamptons.

Prager, who could have afforded to take his business to the Hamptons, opted for Easton. Prager did not respond to my calls and emails, but it is apparent why he might have chosen Easton: its small-town charm and the stunning beauty of the Chesapeake Bay. Nevertheless, Prager’s establishments exhibit a certain Hamptons-style vibe in their price and extravagance. At Prager’s restaurant, Bas Rouge, you can find a lunch menu including a $43 Wiener schnitzel and a 35-page wine list which includes a 2016 Chateau Petrus for $8,400. You can also enjoy a glass of Gordon & MacPhail 1950 Speymalt MaCallan single malt scotch and a glass of vintage champagne (vintage meaning it’s been aged for over three years rather than the standard 15 months) at The Stewart. In addition to the two restaurants mentioned, he owns a coffee shop, a bakery, a smoothie bar, an authentic Roman-style pizza place, an epicurean market and bistro, a bookstore, and a shop selling a curated collection of the finest crystal, porcelain, silver, and linen including an Austrian “Wiener Siber, ‘Classic’ coffee/tea set” for $37,940. In total, Prager has started twelve establishments in Easton since 2008.

Prager’s high-end establishments are all a short walk from each other. It is hard to walk on a street in downtown Easton and not see the gold cursive letters inviting you for Parisian tea and pastries by renowned baker Glenn May. Ben Sheets, owner of a local restaurant, Capsize, recalls when Prager opened his first restaurant, Sunflower and Greens, a cafe offering artisanal soups and salads, and people telling him that he had to check out the bathroom. “There was this big and beautiful chandelier hanging in there – the bathroom!” Sheets admits that Prager’s establishments are expensive but argues that everything he does, he does well.

In addition to Capsize, Sheet also previously owned The Washington Street Pub, a local favorite that was a staple in downtown Easton since the 1980s. The Pub was my favorite spot in town for a reasonably priced beer and a good sandwich. Sheets decided to sell to Prager as one step closer to his retirement. Prager bought the Pub at the end of last year and has yet to do anything with the space. “I’m not sure what his plans are, but people complain that there’s no sort of working man’s bar anymore,” he told me.

Although some locals might argue that Prager is altering Easton’s small-town charm, he undeniably contributes to the tourism economy by drawing outsiders. Furthermore, according to an interview with the Washingtonian, Prager donates approximately $5 million annually to Easton schools, the YMCA, historical societies, and other local charities. Despite his significant contributions, Prager remains a polarizing figure in the community, a sentiment that existed even before the onset of COVID-19. Most locals I interviewed were hesitant to discuss him.

Prager’s influence on the town symbolizes the familiar tension between diverse interest groups in small vacation towns, exacerbated by the unique impact of COVID-19. Wealthy urbanites are attracted to the small-town atmosphere and picturesque Eastern Shore without fully comprehending how their wealth, NIMBY (Not in My Back Yard) politics, and environmental advocacy can impact long-standing residents who sustain essential services, schools, and more. This phenomenon isn’t unique to Easton; it exists in various picturesque small towns like Sun Valley, Nantucket, Naples, and Jackson Hole.

I recognize that my family is part of the problem. While working on this article, I also got married at my parents’ house, with a ceremony by the water. Our officiant and friend mentioned why we chose to get married on the Eastern Shore: it is my happy place, where I learned to fall in love with nature and the Chesapeake Bay. If it were not for my time spent coming to Easton as a kid, I would not have ended up working in Chesapeake conservation for five years.

 Easton’s determined and enthusiastic locals are collaborating to develop the area, aiming to provide opportunities that are not exclusively for wealthy residents but can be appreciated by all, such as the Port Street Small Area Plan. The town, along with several organizations, is currently focused on the Port Street and Easton Point Project, a venture long in the making. Deena Kilmon from Easton Economic Development Corporation (Easton EDC) explained that the inception of Easton EDC in 2013 was driven by the town’s need for public input regarding the limited public waterfront area in Easton. With the help of Easton EDC’s public engagement, the Port Street Small Area Plan was developed by a 47-person committee that met regularly over two years and engaged hundreds of citizens, residents, government officials, property owners, and businesses. The town’s portion of the waterfront area includes Easton Point Park, which connects the waterfront to the Rails & Trails walking and small biking path in Downtown Easton. There is also a public boating ramp for anyone to access the Tred Avon River and the Environmental Education Center, Phillip’s Wharf.

Margaret, the 100-year-old Easton resident, recalled Port Street’s former reputation for being a dangerous area. She highlighted its history as a rough and sparsely populated region, notably known for sailors visiting “drunk looking for girls.” Just half a mile from the port lies Londonderry, the retirement community where Margaret resides. She remembers when Port Street was once considered the roughest part of town, her children were alarmed when she announced her move there two decades ago.

Margaret was excited to share stories with me from her past growing up on the rural Eastern Shore. She talked about the simplicity of small-town life. Everyone knew everyone in town, they never locked their doors, and the only place people drank was at the Miles River Yacht Club. She told me that she wouldn’t trade her childhood of biking through the country and swimming in the bay for anything. Claiborne, a town that only had one road to get in and out of, where Margaret attended a one-room schoolhouse for five years with only 45 other classmates. It was also home to one of the only ways for people to get to the Eastern shore, usually making their way to Ocean City and the only way for people in the town to get out. “We lived a rural and naive life, which I discovered when I went to college,” Margaret confessed.

 I have similar fond memories of the Eastern Shore and the time I spent there while growing up. I will always remember the sunset kayaks on the Choptank River, the bike rides to the Oxford ferry to get ice cream, and the sailboat rides with my dad. In my lifetime I’ve witnessed Easton change significantly and while I feel nostalgic for its small-town charm, I realize like Margaret, while change can be scary, it’s not all bad.