About a year ago, the layoffs from federal funding cuts began to hit the Triangle. The Trump administration’s disinvestment in science and environmental protections, including the dismantling of a significant Environmental Protection Agency office in Research Triangle Park, has been staggering.
Against this backdrop, you might be thinking about what steps you can personally take to reduce harm to the environment. Maybe you ride a bike for exercise, but are intimidated by bicycle commuting. Perhaps you have plateaued in your efforts to reduce how much you’re buying that comes neatly packaged in seemingly unavoidable plastic. Or maybe you’d like to be less reliant on Big Energy and more in sync with nature, but aren’t sure where to start.
Not everyone has the luxury of going without a car by choice, or seeking out a grocery store that lets you bring your own refillable containers. But for readers looking to reduce their environmental impact in their everyday lives, we wanted to get insight from locals who have done it: What prompted them to make these commitments to sustainability? And how, exactly, do they live out their values day-to-day?
There are so many people in the Triangle making strides to reduce their own environmental impacts and build a greener world. Here, you’ll find profiles of three of them: Marc Maximov, who has navigated the Bull City without a car for 20-plus years while advocating for bicycle-friendly policies and infrastructure as a Bike Durham board member; Louise Omoto Kessel, an artist, storyteller, and veteran of off-grid living helping people of all ages experience the benefits of a life closer to nature at Clapping Hands Farm in Pittsboro; and Kathleen Liebowitz, executive director of Cary-based Toward Zero Waste, who’s leading efforts to reduce waste in her own household and across Wake County.
road, Clapping Hands Farm sits at the end of a long driveway, past old chicken coops and a pond.
The farm doesn’t use public utilities—there is electricity powered by solar panels on-site but no running water, air conditioning, or refrigeration. It also operates as a camp, allowing visitors of all ages to explore nature and art with programmed events. Camp director Louise Omoto Kessel used to live on the farm, where she fully embraced the off-grid lifestyle.
When Kessel first moved to the farm, she lived with her husband, Holmes, in the only finished building on the property, a tiny cabin. Although Kessel can’t remember the exact dimensions, in her memories, it’s about 12 feet by 12 feet with a loft, where the couple slept. Kessel said Holmes used to joke that the cabin was three stories because it also had a root cellar.
In the farm’s early days, Kessel said she fetched water with a long, cylindrical bucket that she would drop down a well. Then the pair pumped well water with a hand pump, extracting the water for themselves and their two horses. Holmes had a commercial farmers’ market garden at the time, Kessel said, and they would sometimes have to pump water for the plants, too.
After a while, Kessel said they started collecting rainwater in big tanks to use for irrigation.
“We liked the fact that you sort of had to go outside to take care of basic things, like going to the bathroom,” Kessel said. “You had to encounter the weather and the season, and I just love that. You were clear about what was happening outside, because if it had been cloudy or rainy for days, you might run out of power. We had a tiny little system for light. If it was cold, you built a fire.”
Kessel was a full-time storyteller when she moved to the farm. A year into living there, she took on a new venture and opened the Clapping Hands Farm camp.
“Part of my feeling when I moved out there was ‘This would be an amazing place to have a camp,’” Kessel said. “I wasn’t wrong.”
The camp began in 2000 with Kessel inviting a few of her friends’ kids out to the farm and has since expanded to a year-round operation. Clapping Hands Farm offers seven summer camps, a spring break camp, and programming days throughout the year. It’s the kind of place where shoes are optional, and tree climbing is encouraged.
Kessel said the farm is an inclusive community, where she wants people to feel free to be themselves. Fostering creativity and allowing visitors to learn about nature are also important parts of the farm’s objectives, she said.
“I think the outdoor environment is very supportive of all of the things that we’re trying to do,” Kessel said.
The camp has working artists, craftspeople, and naturalists run programs, which range from ukulele classes to writing and performing a musical. Camps and retreats are offered for children, families, and adults, giving them the chance to unplug.
Although Kessel and her family have moved back on the grid to a house across the street from the farm, Kessel said she prefers her former lifestyle.
“I guess it’s a combination,” Kessel said. “It’s equal parts just wanting to have a lower impact on the planet and just enjoying the connection with the natural world.”
To make a change in everyday life, Kessel said people can limit trips in gas-powered cars and start composting.
She still has some remnants of her life on the farm in her current house, with solar panels powering some of their energy usage. Kessel said Holmes, who drives an electric car and has tried to stop buying any plastic, takes more extreme measures to continue to live sustainably.
When Holmes moved his mother to North Carolina from Austin, Texas, he rode his bike to Greensboro, hopped on a train to New Orleans, rode his bike to a hostel, got on another train to San Antonio, then rode his bike to Austin—all to mitigate emissions from the trip.
Both Kessel’s and Holmes’ commitment to living a sustainable life has fueled the farm’s mission, encouraging the same from their visitors.
The farm’s off-the-grid lifestyle and emphasis on nature allow visitors “to just sort of strip away things” and simplify life. It’s one of the many things that make the camp attractive, Kessel said.
“It seems to me that the more you delight in and experience just being outside, things happen,” Kessel said. “A snake will appear, a butterfly will land on you. Things happen. People are more connected, and then they learn things.”
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