Some farmers of color have been hesitant to interact with the U.S. Department of Agriculture's Farm Service Agency after a history of discrimination, but owners of one farm in Warfield say they've had a positive experience working the agency.

Herbert Brown Jr., operator of BrownTown Farms in Warfield, works the same land his great-grandfather did in the early 1900s. In 2020, his farm received a grant from the RAFI-USA Farmers of Color Network Infrastructure Fund to purchase a commercial freezer for its jam-making operation. He explained the initial step to access the resources is to get a farm number, and once registered, the agency offers a variety of programs tailored to each farmer's situation.

"Ranging from programs and involve disaster assistance if producers have crop losses, price-support assistance, organic hardship certification," Brown outlined. "Or even a farm storage-facility loan, which will allow producers to have access to capital to fund their food-storage projects."

Last year, the Agriculture Department temporarily suspended past-due debt collections and foreclosures for distressed borrowers. More than 129,000 farmers have received loans through the agency.

Ray Jeffers, farm and outreach specialist for the Rural Advancement Foundation International, said racist practices against farmers of color, including predatory lending, have led to skepticism about the agency among Black farmers. He emphasizes the program's resources can help farms grow and be profitable, and said organizations like his are available to help farmers navigate the process.

"I think the biggest challenge right now is the trust issue," Jeffers acknowledged. "Even going into the office to apply for programs that may help you your farm grow, be more profitable, or help you manage your risk."

Brown pointed out his farm has increased its fruit and vegetable production over the years and expanded its presence in the community through wholesale outlets, helping it beat the odds.

"It's all about creating a regional food system," Brown contended. "Distributing food to those who are in need and those who desire to 'eat fresh.' "

Black-operated farms accounted for around four million acres of farmland, just 0.5% of the U.S. total, according to 2019 data from the Agriculture Department.

At the onset of the pandemic, medical professionals struggled with cracks in communication which caused confusion and worry. Amid the misinformation, some Appalachian women discovered how helping their community also eased some of their own fears about COVID.

Melanie Richards, associate professor of media and communication at East Tennessee State University, who researches health communication, explained during times of crisis, people often have to sort through bits and pieces of information to understand what is happening.

"People weren't really sure what to believe," Richards observed. "There were also political aspects in the discussion around masks that were unexpected that also created some polarizing opinions."

Mimi Perreault, assistant professor of media and communication at East Tennessee State University, along with Richards, learned about a grassroots mask-making movement in Appalachia, and spoke with women involved.

Perreault pointed out many of the women discovered taking preventive action during a time of crisis helped them to feel confident, safe and secure.

"The passion and engagement these women had in their communities; it was something that even if they couldn't leave their homes, or felt very little power, they could make a little difference," Perreault recounted.

Perreault noted there is a history in the region of people working to "make do" or doing without. And the mask-making women showcased "radical resourcefulness" by creatively repurposing scraps and clothes, materials and crowdsourcing fabric.

"People were looking for materials to use; recycling things out of their home to make those masks," Perreault emphasized. "A woman put up on Facebook, 'I need fabric,' and people were dropping off bags of fabric on her front porch. Radical resourcefulness: That's kind of an Appalachian thing."

Richards added through their work, the women were able to benefit emotionally, while also supporting their neighbors.

"It really empowered these women and gave them some feelings of self-efficacy in a very chaotic environment," Richards remarked. "And the value that it gave to them personally and the value they were then able to impart to the community as a result."

The stories are shared in an upcoming book titled "Masks, Misinformation, and Making Do: Appalachian Health-Care Workers and the COVID-19 Pandemic."

Watchdog groups say chickens used by Costco are bred to grow so quickly, many of them cannot stand under their own weight, and recent lawsuits against the company have put the spotlight once again on Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations.

There are more than 3,000 such poultry operations in North Carolina, growing hundreds of millions of chickens a year.

Chris Heaney, associate professor of environmental health at Johns Hopkins University, said breeding cheap chickens comes with a host of negative public health impacts.

"They include concerns around the role of antimicrobial use, promoting antimicrobial resistance, which can be transmitted between animals; and between food, animals and people who live in regions where there is intensive livestock production," Heaney outlined.

Heaney stated the large operations also generate air pollution, which can trigger respiratory problems, nausea, neurological issues, and anxiety and depression in residents living near them.

In a statement to investors, Costco said it has no significant evidence of any adverse impacts to chickens grown in its factory farms, which are mostly located in Nebraska, and emphasized it is "committed to the welfare of animals in its supply chains."

Heaney pointed out consumers are not typically aware of all the costs to the air, water, and soil, which come with purchasing a rotisserie chicken priced at less than $5.

"The open question is the degree to which the consumer, in terms of purchasing meats and the price that they pay, is actually reflecting a lot of those adverse impacts," Heaney noted.

Large operations are also vulnerable to climate impacts. One analysis by the Environmental Working Group and the Waterkeeper Alliance found in 2016, when hurricane Matthew flooded waste lagoons and livestock confinement barns, nearby waterways became contaminated with animal urine and feces, which contains pathogens such as E.coli, hormones, antibiotics and industrial chemicals known to cause illness in humans.

As more farm and food cooperatives pop up across North Carolina, advocates say they are creating a new model for food distribution and landownership that addresses long-standing inequities.

Today, white Americans own and operate 94% of all U.S. farmland. Indigenous people and those of color are less likely to be able to generate farm-related wealth, and more likely to be farm laborers. Meanwhile, the pandemic, inflation, and climate change continue to threaten the safety of food-industry workers, as well as food security overall.

Executive Director of the HEAL Food Alliance, Navina Khanna, argues the nation's industrial food system operates largely on a system of unfair labor.

"There are communities that are most hard hit," Khanna said, "whether that's migrant farmworkers, or folks who are working in meatpacking plants and being exploited by their employers."

But Khanna said BIPOC and immigrant-owned food and farm cooperatives are changing how food is produced across North Carolina. She points to cooperatives like Tierra Fértil -- a Hispanic, worker-owned cooperative in Hendersonville -- as an example of how critical land ownership is to equalizing the agricultural sector.

State and national advocates are looking toward locally-owned cooperatives as a way to boost land-ownership and wealth creation among historically marginalized communities.

Suparna Kudesia is known as the choreographer of collective change at the COFED Cooperative Food Empowerment Directive, which provides funding to BIPOC youth nationwide who are working in coops. Kudesia calls for philanthropic dollars focused on agriculture to prioritize Black and Brown local farm and food initiatives in the South, and especially those in the start-up phases.

"Specifically, the work that we've seen in North Carolina," Kudesia noted. "There are a number of Black and Brown-owned, worker-owned food and land cooperatives in North Carolina that are up and coming."

According to a report from the National Young Farmers Coalition, the number of young people of color interested in farming has increased, but access to high-quality farmland is their one number barrier.