Nashville has a childcare crisis. Daycare costs more than college tuition. Even if a family can afford it, there’s no guarantee they can find it. Davidson County has a daycare deficit. According to the Nashville Chamber, the area lacks 2,750 childcare spots.

“Families are being forced out our city,” says Nashville Councilman Rollin Horton. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

Horton has set out to solve the problem and is introducing Codes for Kids, a piece of legislation that will make childcare more accessible and affordable.

“Codes for Kids will remove red tape in our city’s zoning code that prevents Davidson County from expanding childcare access and drives up costs for providers and parents,” Horton tells TENNBEAT.

“Accessibility is the primary issue,” says Shetika Davis, who recently opened Bridging the Gap Learning, a daycare in East Nashville. “If we didn’t make it so difficult and expensive to build childcare, affordability wouldn’t be an issue. But to make childcare affordable, cities have to make it accessible. Right now, you have to jump through hundreds of hoops to open one. It’s a bunch of government bureaucracy.”

A 2025 State of Tennessee Study came to the same conclusion as Davis. Local zoning laws prevent many municipalities — including Nashville — from meeting demand and delivering affordable options. The report recommended amending the zoning code and making it easier to build daycares.

Horton’s bill adopts several suggestions from the study, including eliminatingblanket bans on childcare services that exist in certain areas and streamlining the time consuming and expensive permitting processes for providers.

“Our zoning codes reflect our priorities,” says Horton. “They decide what can be built, where it can be built, how much of it can be built and how hard it is to build. Our current policies don’t prioritize parents or kids. Codes for Kids changes that and puts families first.”

Removing 1,000 ft Blanket Ban

In many areas in Davidson County, it is illegal to have more than one daycare within 1,000 feet of each other. This type of exclusionary zoning law is typically used for noxious uses such as wastewater facilities and vape shops.

Davis says when she was searching for spaces, she called codes countless times to inquire about the legality of potential properties. Did the code allow for a daycare?

She said the department dashed several proposed sites, citing existing facilities within 1,000 feet.

“This policy is a part of our problem,” says Horton. It severely limits the amount of available land and commercial space where childcare centers can be built. It’s created a self-inflicted scarcity.”

Because spots are so scarce, some parents are willing to pay for childcare while they’re still at home with their little one.

Omar Perez and his wife Angela are expecting their second child in July. They got on the waitlist of 18 weeks after they found out she was pregnant. The school year starts until August. Both he and his wife plan to take advantage of their employer’s parental leave and stay home with their newborn for the first few months.

“If our baby is called up on the waitlist before our paternity and maternity leave ends, we will pay just for the first few months — even though we will still be at home with her. We simply can’t afford to lose our spot. It’s too hard to find childcare.”

Codes for Kids will make childcare easier to find. It will eliminate the 1,000 foot blanket bans and allow for multiple daycares to built in an area so long as the meet the state and local standards.

Streamlining Permitting Process

The legislation will also streamline the permitting process.

Right now in Nashville, daycare providers are required to receive a special exemption from the Board of Zoning Appeals even if a site and the operator meet all the conditions for a childcare facility set forth by the state and local government. Approval is subjective, meaning operators can be denied for no real reason at all.

The Board of Zoning Appeals often adds 4-6 months onto an operator’s timeline and in many cases thousands in attorneys fees, as it is difficult to navigate the system without specialized knowledge.

“Everyday we aren’t open, we are bleeding money,” says Davis. “Daycare owners are still paying rent while they wait for permits. When they prolong the timelines, they increase costs.”

These prolonged timelines are passed down to parents. In Nashville, the average childcare waitlist ranges anywhere from 6 months to 1 year. Many mothers get on waitlists the moment they find out they’re pregnant.

These waitlists aren’t just inconvenient. They’re expensive. Molly Wright, a Charlotte Park resident and mother, says she and her husband spent $500 to secure a spot for their daughter on the waitlist of a new Nashville daycare set to open in March.

Wright spoke in support of the center at the Board of Zoning Appeals last year. She saw firsthand the failures of our city’s system.

“The special exemption didn’t accomplish anything except delay the daycare and increase the costs for providers and parents,” says Wright. “I’m glad this bill will remove the requirement for it (special exemption).”

Codes for Kids will allow daycares that meet all the conditions set forth by the state and local government to be built by right — without a special exemption from Board of Zoning Appeals — just like schools or churches.

“These zoning changes may seem small, but they are significant,” says Horton. “They will allow our city to expand childcare access. For too long, parents have been forced to choose between their kid or their career. It doesn’t have to be that way. ”

Tamika White, Political Director for SEIU Local 2025, a labor union representing thousands of workers across Tennessee, says when lawmakers like Horton address childcare issues, they address labor issues.

“Childcare issues are labor issues. Parents who can’t afford quality care, or can’t find it, can’t work,” says White.

More than 122,000 Tennesseans aren’t working because of childcare barriers.

“SEIU is proud to support this piece of legislation,” says White. “Davidson County workers deserve abundant and affordable daycare options.”

Horton’s bill will be formally filed today.

Ten years ago Andrew Arbogast was in a war zone. Today, he’s in Walmart. 

The former apache pilot has landed distribution deals with some of the biggest brands. 200 retailers including Walmart and Kroger carry his queso.

This fall the father of three will roll out his product in Hy-Vee. The Iowa-based business will stock all of its stores with the Memphis-made dip.

Grocers aren’t the only ones gobbling up Arbogast’s spicy, speckled goo. Celebrities like Jelly Roll sing his products praises.

The aviator insists there isn’t a recipe for success. Entrepreneurship is navigating one sticky situation after another.

Share

Deploying the idea

In November 2020, Arbogast and his friends sat around a fire pit. They lamented their lives. Arbogast hated his job. He felt unfulfilled and isolated in his remote role. 

“My PTSD worsened during the pandemic,” he says. “I felt more alone than ever.”

One jokingly suggested he quit his job and start selling his fathers cheese dip. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

Charlie’s cheese dip was more than a savory snack to Arbogast. As a boy, it was family bonding. He and his brothers crowded around bowls of queso during breaks from boarding school. In college, it was a dorm room delicacy. It drew everyone in and around the residence hall. And in Afghanistan, it was a meal he made and shared before late night missions.

Queso was the connection he was craving.

Share

The next morning, Arbogast mentioned the idea to his wife. He wasn’t “an idiot”. He knew he couldn’t go full time at first, so he suggested it as a side hustle. Erin gave him the green light. 

Arbogast commandeered their kitchen and began pedaling his father’s creamy concoction from their front porch. He sold 16 oz containers for $5.

Friends and family were his first customers, but they weren’t his only fans. The then-father-of-two grew a following on Facebook and Instagram. It wasn’t long before two local bars — Carolina Watershed and Zinny’s  —  also became buyers. 

The operation quickly outgrew his home. Arbogast began to look for a new lab.

In April, a “buddy with a breakfast spot” offered up his kitchen. Each afternoon when the eatery closed, Arbogast and his friends descended upon the diner. 

The commercial space enabled them to supercharge production. The crew cranked out 200 gallons of queso — enough to fill four outdoor trash cans — each week. It was double the amount of dip they had made inside his home.

There was much to celebrate in May. The 15th was Armed Forces Day. Arbogast enjoyed the holiday and “selling out his first store.” A local Memphis market organized an event to support veteran-owned brands. 

The retailer offered Arbo’s a permanent residency.

High Pointe was the first grocery store, but it wasn’t the last. That year, Piggly Wiggly, Food Giant and a dozen other independent retailers added his savory appetizer to their shelves.

“By the end of 2021, we were in about 100 locations total,” he says with a smile.

Operation scale Arbo’s Cheese Dip

The new year brought  new zeal. Arbogast was eager to scale his operation. If he was going to grow, he couldn’t continue to “cook underground”.

Arbogast began courting co-packers. He approached fifteen — not one bit. He felt hopeless.

“I wasn’t big enough for any of them to take a chance on,” he tells TENNBEAT. 

In August, he met with a manufacturer in Tupelo, Mississippi. The mom and pop shop agreed to partner.

“I remember breaking down and crying,” he says nostalgically. 

That month he also went all in on Arbo’s. Four of his friends invested in the company. The seed fund was enough to give him a full time salary and quit his job.

Share

He felt like a champion, and in a way…he was. In November, he won third place at the World Cheese Dip Championship in Arkansas.

Eight months later, in July 2022, he called Kroger. They answered and offered him 100 stores. There was one condition: he had to add two skus.

“Most grocery stores won’t pick up a product unless there are at least three offerings,” he explains.

Arbogast became a mad scientist. He fashioned two new flavors in two months. 

Queso Blanco and Spicy joined Original in the Arbo’s food family. Kroger started stocking the products in September — just in time for football season.

Sticky situations

Soon, things started to sour. Product wasn’t moving, and Arbogast was losing money. 

“We were selling our dip for $6.99. Market rate was $4.99,” Arbogast explains. “We couldn’t drop the price. Our production costs were higher than most brands because we were working with a smaller manufacturer.”

People didn’t want to pay a premium for an unknown brand. 

“Small tags like “local” or “new” cost money. It was money we didn’t have,” he says.

Business went from bad to worse. That winter Arbogast began to receive reports of mold. 

“It wasn’t every customer. It was here and there, but it was unacceptable.”

Share

Reconfiguring the recipe

Arbogast knew he wouldn’t make it with the margins or the mold. In March 2023, he made the difficult decision to press pause on production. 

He reached out to a Memphis co-packer. The company had rejected his plea to partner two years prior. They reconsidered and helped him reconfigure his recipe, adding a natural preservative to ensure a longer shelf life and quality control. 

Larger and more established, the outfit was able to cut production costs. Those savings were passed along to shoppers. Arbogast was able to drop the price by a dollar. 

The recipe wasn’t the only revamp. Arbo’s logo got a new look.

“It wasn’t obvious that we were veteran owned. That’s a major selling point,” he says. “People want to support veteran owned brands, but the old containers didn’t communicate that we were one.”

Landing 4 big box retailers

October was super. Four supermarkets — Publix, Harris Teeter, Schunucks and Walmart — agreed to take a chance on his cheese dip.

But Arbogast quickly learned getting into grocers was one thing — selling it was another. 

“Someone told me never release in more than one retailer at a time. I didn’t listen and I learned the hard way,” Arbogast says, very self aware. “You don’t have the time or money to invest in multiple launches at a time.”

Schnucks quit carrying Arbo’s shortly after picking it up. It wasn’t selling. Harris Teeter told him they’d be open to ordering again, but they had to put the relationship on ice.

“Each store is different and there are a million variables. Where is your product going to be placed? What products are you competing against? Do they offer sampling?”

Small tags, big difference

He wasn’t exactly winning in the other stores either.

“I was on life support,” laughs Arbogast.

In May, he threw a hail mary. He purchased “new tags” to be placed near his product in Walmart.

“You aren’t just paying for pieces of paper. Supermarkets charge you a separate fee to have them. That fee isn’t cheap” explain Arbogast.

The small tags made a big difference. Sales in Walmart shot up 200-percent in 30-days. He added the tiny but mighty tabs in other stores. New investors made it possible.

“A seasoned CPG (consumer packaged goods) business approached and invested in the company this year,” says Arbogast. “With their partnership, Arbo’s will have its biggest year yet.”

More than money

But for the Commander and Cheese success is about more than money.

“I spent 10 years in the army and did two tours in Afghanistan. I’ve had some really dark days,” says Arbogast with crocodile tears running down his face. “My mission with Arbo’s is to bring people together. People are love, and love is powerful. It can help heal some of the deepest wounds. I know because it’s helped heal some of mine.”

Rep. Scott Cepicky (R-Culleoka) is either infamous or famous. His descriptor depends on who you ask. Nonetheless he’s known. During Tennessee’s last legislative session, he led the failed vanguard for school vouchers and passed a law to regulate vaccine lettuce.

He earned major media attention for both bills. In an audio recording leaked to News Channel 5, Cepicky said the state should “throw the whole freaking (school) system in the trash,” and his vaccine lettuce legislation made a cameo on Jimmy Kimmell.

42-year-old Ray Jeter is sick of Cepicky. The Maury County Commissioner is out to put an end to the produce regulating rep’s reign and snag the District 64 seat. Jeter is challenging Cepicky in the August 1st Republican primary.

Cepicky’s shaft would alter the political theater in Tennessee’s upcoming legislative session. His absence would likely alleviate much of the muster for school vouchers and re-organize dynamics within the Republican caucus. Intraparty factions arose during the debate over school choice.

If re-elected, Cepicky, a loyalist to Gov. Lee told TENNBEAT he would sponsor another school choice bill. Last week at the Republican National Convention, Lee claimed school choice was a “civil rights issue” and pledged to push for the program in the 2025 legislative session.

Share

What are the odds Jeter can oust Cepicky?

July financial reports indicate Jeter might have a chance in the joust. Though he raised roughly $3,000 less than Cepicky, 60% of his campaign contributions came from individuals within Maury County. Meanwhile only 30% of Cepicky’s donations were from district residents.

Share

Ray Jeter

Ray Jeter remembers exactly when he decided to run for the Tennessee House of Representatives. 

“It was during a meeting with Jason Gilliam back in February,” he told TENNBEAT.

Gilliam, an airline pilot, challenged Cepicky in the previous Republican primary. He fell to the cattle farmer by almost a thousand votes.

“I asked him if he planned on running against him again,” says Jeter. “I told him I couldn’t continue to sit by and watch Scott do nothing. If he wasn’t running, I would.”

Jeter has served on the Maury County Commission since 2022. He says the local body has been stunted by Cepicky’s leadership in the legislature.

“To get things done, local and state have to work together,” exclaims Jeter. “Scott is a lame duck. He’s not up there fighting for us.”

He offers impact fees as an example. The one-time development fees are designed to support local infrastructure. They are baked into the cost of building permits and can be used to expand sewer systems, add sidewalks, supplement local school funding and improve roads. 

“Two years ago, several of us went to the capitol to support him on a bill that would have allowed us to have impact fees,” he says. “Another Republican representative shouted ‘Scott if you would have told me about this I would have helped you.’ He wasn’t really fighting for us. He didn’t even tell his colleagues about it.”

Jeter says the commission has spent more than six figures on a lobbyist who has worked alongside another representative, Rep. Tim Hicks, to pass “something to move the needle forward.”

“It still wasn’t what we needed. I don’t know how helpful it will actually be but at least Hicks did something for us. Our own representative didn’t,” says Jeter.

The commissioners aren’t the only ones Cepicky has ignored. Jeter claims countless individuals complain their emails and phone calls to the representative have gone unanswered.

“I hear it all the time, when I’m knocking doors,” says Jeter. “It’s wrong. Your job is to represent people, to listen to them and to help them. If you can’t help them, you point them in the direction of someone who can.”

Share

Lettuce Legislation

Jeter says Cepicky’s lettuce legislation distracted him and the General Assembly from addressing problems that are present.

“He wasted our time with that,” Jeter says. “We have a list a mile long of issues that do exist. We have a water shortage here in Maury County. Our infrastructure is crumbling, and our schools don’t have enough funding.”

Education

Education is a top issue this election. It’s also an issue Cepicky and Jeter approach opposite of one another. Cepicky believes the way to fix the public school system is by “blowing it up.” Jeter believes in “building it up”.

“You’ve got to invest in the teachers and students,” he says. “You can’t starve a school system, and then expect great results.”

Jeter says if elected, he would not sponsor school choice legislation. 

“We need to get back to basics,” says Jeter. “We need to talk to the teachers and see how we can best support them.”

Platform

Jeter says he would also focus on legislation to curb rising costs of living — including a statewide cap on property taxes for elderly Tennesseans on low and fixed incomes.

“Californians shouldn’t displace Maury County residents who have lived here all their life,” says Jeter. “Growth can be good, but it’s not good when it's driving people out of their homes.”

The elderly aren’t the only vulnerable class he is out to assist. He is determined to reform the Department of Child Services and make adoption easier and more affordable for Tennessee families. 

His platform extends beyond people. It spills into the streets. The construction executive says Maury County’s infrastructure has not kept up with the growth.

“We are one of the fastest growing counties in the state,” exclaims Jeter. “Our infrastructure is crumbling. We are going to have to get some state funding in order to address the situation.”

DONATE TO TENNBEAT

Our publication is powered by donations from individuals and businesses like you. The more contributions we receive, the more stories we can cover. TENNBEAT is a 501c3 nonprofit. All donations are tax deductible.

Background

Jeter’s commitment to Maury County started at a young age. He grew up in Columbia. After high school, he headed to “Bible College” in Texas where he studied theology. He left Longview and returned home to tie the knot with his kindergarten sweetheart.

“This is my home,” says Jeter. “I grew up here. I met my wife here. I raised my kids here.”

Prior to serving on the county commission, Jeter served as a volunteer deputy with the Maury County Sheriff's Department. Two years later, in 2011, they offered him a full time position, and in 2014 he was promoted to Chief Deputy. He left the agency in 2020 to pursue a better paying career in construction.

“I’ve always had a servant's heart,” he says. “I believe in serving others and speaking up for what is right.”

His servant heart is tied to his childhood trauma. Jeter’s biological family abandoned him at age 12.

“They left me in the middle of the night and moved to Oklahoma,” he tells TENNBEAT. “David Baker, my pastor, took me in.”

Jeter spoke out against the Baptist minister during his mayoral run two years ago. 32-year-old Aimee Spires accused Baker of turning a blind eye to the sexual assault she experienced at the hands of church member years ago.

Baker slammed Spires in a Facebook Video entitled “A Big Lie.” He said her story was being politicized because of his mayoral run.

Jeter felt called to respond. He said it was “appalling, reprehensible and disgusting” for the mayoral candidate to “attempt to minimize and discredit the young lady.”

“I’ve never been one to remain quiet,” Jeter says. “You have to speak up.”

Rep. Scott Cepicky

Cepicky is unphased by his competitor and any Democratic lawmakers who despise him. He insists his constituents  — including Jason Gilliam — are pleased with the policy’s he proposed and passed.

“The reason Jason Gilliam isn’t running is because Jason supports me,” says Cepicky. He slid his cell phone across his Cordell Hull desk. On the screen was a text message from Gilliam. It showed admiration and appreciation for the incumbent. However, Cepicky declined to send the screenshot to TENNBEAT, and the date of the message is unknown.

As for the alleged unreturned phone calls and emails, Cepicky says, “He is insulting the hard working people we hire,” and points to the legislative assistant outside his office.

Education

The father of two also defended his efforts on the House Education Committee. Cepicky, who chairs the committee, sponsored a half-billion voucher bill and was an outspoken advocate of Tennessee’s third grade retention law.

Despite his bill's defeat and the well-documented opposition to school choice, Cepicky insists the majority of Tennesseans are in favor of vouchers.

“This is very popular with parents, but the left drowned their voices out,” he says.

62 school boards passed resolutions against school choice — none issued one in supporting the measure. Cepicky believes many school boards were “too scared” to vocalize their affinity for the program.

“There are 147 school boards. 62 of them passed resolutions against it. That’s not the majority. They were too scared of being attacked by the opposition and the media,” he tells TENNBEAT.

Cepicky’s legislation would have expanded Tennessee’s current voucher pilot program. Vouchers, also known as school choice, offer parents public tax dollars to send their students to private schools. Advocates insist it provides families with more education options, while those opposed argue it steals resources from already underfunded schools.

Unlike the current pilot program — which is limited to low income residents in failing school systems and mandates students take state standardized tests — Cepicky’s bill included no income requirements and did not require schools to adhere to state testing standards.

DONATE TO TENNBEAT

Those averse to vouchers called them “coupons”. They argue wealthy families whose students are already enrolled in private schools. They also said it was illogical to expand a program that did not improve student achievement. In the first year of the pilot program (2022-2023 school year), students who participated, performed worse than their public school peers.

Cepicky has an answer for the achievement gap. “In states like Wisconsin and Arizona, the kids always perform worse the first year. They are adjusting to a new school and a more rigorous curriculum. In year two, they bottom out, and in year three scores improve.”

TENNBEAT was unable to find data to support his assertions.

As for his trash talk, “You know that was taken out of context. Should I have used different words? Maybe…but anyone who knows me knows I’m not a politician and that’s how I speak.”

Cepicky also stood by his support of the third grade retention law. The policy which passed, holds back third grade students — if additional steps like tutoring or summer school are not taken — who don’t score proficient on the Language Arts portion of TCAP (Tennessee Comprehensive Assessment Program). In 2022, 60% of Tennessee third graders scored below the proficient benchmark.

Research on the success of holding students back in elementary school is mixed, with some studies showing gains in test scores and others finding no impact. 

“The Department of Corrections bases the number of beds they need for prisons off third grade literacy,” he says. “We have to hold these kids back now, so they don’t end up in prison.”

Cepicky’s statement correlating prison capacity and literacy isn’t exactly accurate, but it’s not entirely inaccurate. Prison capacity predictions are linked to high school graduation rates. Third grade literacy is a bellwether for high school graduation.

Lettuce Legislation

Conversations on the controversy he stirred last session led to a discussion on his lettuce legislation. Cepicky is proud of the produce policy he passed. It classifies food that contains vaccines as a drug.

The legislation stemmed from a study at the University of California Riverside, where scientists are researching the possibility of “turning edible plants like lettuce into mRNA vaccine factories.” 

The question for many remains: Why regulate something that doesn’t exist?

“You have to regulate problems before they become a problem,” Cepicky quips. “Back in 2020, I ran a bill to ban transgender females from playing girls sports. Everyone said this isn’t even happening. Fast Forward to 2022, Lea Thomas wins the NCAA swimming championship. Lea Thomas is a man. It wasn’t long after there were transgender females in Tennessee trying to do the same thing, but we had a law in place.”

Background

Sports are a central theme in the personal life and politics of Scott Cepicky. The St. Louis native was an all star high school athlete and was recruited to play football and baseball at the University of Wisconsin. In 1989, the punter entered into the NFL draft as a free agent. He was cut by two teams — the Cincinnati Bengals and Minnesota Vikings — during preseason. 

The first baseman returned to baseball. That year he was drafted by the Chicago White Sox in the 23rd round. He played Minor League baseball from 1989 to 1994.

“Public service is a lot like sports,” he says. “You need to have discipline and put the needs of the team — other people —  before yourself.”

A football game kicked off Cepicky’s political career.

“In 2010, I was watching the Alabama/Tennessee football game with my neighbor,” he recalls. “Obama made a mess of this country, and I was complaining. He bet me I wouldn’t do anything about it. The next day…I pulled a petition for county commission.”

Cepicky served on the Maury County Commission for four years. In 2014, he ran for county mayor and lost to former firefighter Charlie Norman by a narrow margin. 

“147 votes,” he says with the sting of defeat still evident in his eyes. But Cepicky didn’t let the defeat put a damper on his political involvement. That year, he became the Chairman of the Maury County Republican Party.

“The county party was struggling,” says Cepicky. “I came in and turned it around.”

In 2018, then-District 64 Representative Sheila Butt rang. She was retiring, and suggested he run for her seat. Cepicky was successful. He has held the seat ever since.

The 57-year-old, told TENNBEAT feels sure he will soundly defeat Jeter in the Republican primary. 

More than Maury County

Whether voters side with Cepicky or Jeter, this race represents more than Maury County. It will have profound implications on Tennessee’s next legislative session, public education and the Republican caucus.

DONATE TO TENNBEAT

Our publication is powered by donations from individuals and businesses like you. The more contributions we receive, the more stories we can cover. TENNBEAT is a 501c3 nonprofit. All donations are tax deductible.

Clayton Trammell is tough. The retired Navy SEAL completed nine tours overseas. During one of those deployments, Trammell took a bullet for our country. He was awarded a purple heart for his heroic act.

But one of Trammell’s toughest battles was far from the Middle East. It was here at home. Like many ex-military, the former seal struggled to figure out his next mission. Transition programs offered employment opportunities, but he wasn’t interested in climbing the corporate ladder.

After years of taking orders, self employment seemed attractive. In 2021, he decided to use his battlefield experience to build a consulting business. 

Now Trammell is out to help other seals become their own boss. He isn’t going at it alone. MasterBorn is joining the mission. The SEAL and software development firm are launching an accelerator to turn former naval special forces members into startup founders. 

Share

An elite partnership

“As a SEAL, I was fortunate to call the top 1-percent of the military teammates,” Trammell tells TENNBEAT. “I’m partnering with MasterBorn because they are the tech industry equivalent.”

The Music-City software company has engineered three unicorns — Outside, ClickFunnels and Medable — a feat less than 1-percent of venture backed startups achieve.

Two of Trammell’s most trusted comrades, sit at the helm of the company — Gray Skinner and Morgan Miller. The Nashville natives knew Trammell long before he enlisted. They were high school track teammates.

Trammell ran the idea by the two last fall, and from there it was full steam ahead.

The accelerator

Aptly named Privateers — a Naval term for a private ship commissioned by the U.S. navy to engage in combat  — the six month accelerator will arm ex-seals with the entrepreneurial knowledge and network to start and scale a tech business.

Skinner says the first four months will serve as a crash course in entrepreneurship. Each month will be centered around a specific area of expertise: 

• Month 1 - Idea and Validation

• Month 2 - Business Model Development

• Month 3 - Product Development

• Month 4 - Funding and Investment 

Instructors aren’t ex military, but tech executives. Skinner and Miller recruited heavy hitters from their Rolodex of industry contacts. 

Participants will meet virtually once a week for classroom style instruction. Outside instruction hours, seals will ideate on their own product and business plan. Mentors will work with them 1:1 to provide practical feedback.

Once instruction comes to a close, program participants will pitch their ideas to a panel. Skinner and industry executives will assess the viability of the potential product.

Is it solving a problem? Is the problem worth solving? Is it scaleable? Will investors open their wallet?

Ideas deemed investable will enter into MasterBorn’s “Phase 0”. It’s their dressed up term for the software development design phase. At the end of this 6-8 week period, the SEALs will have a proper prototype of their product.

“This will enable them to test their product with potential customers, gain feedback and adjust the design accordingly,” says Miller. “MasterBorn will work them to refine the product, before connecting them to potential investors.”

There will be no man left behind. If a SEAL’s idea isn’t selected, he will have the opportunity to jump on board one of the businesses that was selected.

Skinner says the first cohort will start in September. Trammell will recruit interested participants from Mandatum — a national nonprofit that seeks to connect naval special forces to the tools and resources needed to transition back into civilian life.

“There are seals who choose to transition into more traditional career paths,” says Trammell who chairs the organization's board. “There are also many who are interested in entrepreneurship, but they need help translating their experience into the industry.”

Vets are pre-vetted talent

Skinner says seals are natural startup founders. After all, entrepreneurship is after all adapt, improvise, overcome.

“We are talking about the top 1% of the military,” Skinner says. “They know how to execute and are comfortable operating in high pressure environments that are constantly forced to make decisions with incomplete information.”

Miller reiterates Skinner's sentiment. He sees the vets as pre-vetted founders. 

He points to one of Trammell’s achievements. Since 2001 less than 50 service members have received a Naval Cross — “the navy’s second highest award for sailors and marines who distinguish themselves for extraordinary heroism in combat with an armed enemy force”. Trammell is one of them.

“More people have been to space in that time than have received that award,” says Miller. “Special forces members are disproportionately suited to the sweat and toil of entrepreneurship.”

Statistics support their assertions. According to the National Veterans Foundation, veteran owned businesses are 80-percent more likely to succeed than non-veteran owned businesses.

Share

Veterans don’t just make better business owners. They are better bosses — or at least more generous ones. Another study found veterans pay their employees an average of 30-percent more than non veteran-owned businesses.

Despite the high success rates and salaries, the number of veterans becoming entrepreneurs has decreased dramatically over the last five decades. 

Nearly 50 percent of World War II veterans owned and operated businesses upon returning home, according to research from the Institute for Veterans and Military Families at Syracuse University. In 2023, veterans represented only 10.7-percent of the new entrepreneurs in the United States.

The fall can’t be attributed to a single issue. Some studies cite an increase in the number of civilian transition programs for vets while others say the barrier to become an entrepreneur is far steeper than it once was.

Share

Regardless of the reason, the trio is committed to creating opportunities for former special forces because as Trammell says, “Entrepreneurship is the realization of the freedom we fought for.”

Our publication is powered by donations from individuals and businesses like you. The more contributions we receive, the more stories we can cover. TENNBEAT is a 501c3 nonprofit. All donations are tax deductible.

💵 Support Local Journalism

For many troubled teens, a sentence to juvie feels like a sentence to fail. Statistically speaking — it is. 80-percent of juvenile offenders end up back behind bars within three years, less than 2-percent ever enroll in higher education. Prison is their most likely career path. 

Persevere doesn’t believe children should be chained to their past. The social justice organization has created a coding course, so incarcerated youth can engineer a future outside correctional facilities. It’s designed to turn delinquents into developers. 

The program’s beta testers are inside the Davidson County Juvenile Detention Center. Last month, Persevere kicked off its first cohort. 

“If correctional facilities aren’t creating opportunity, they’re creating future inmates,” says Persevere founder and CEO Sean Hosman. “We’re excited to partner with DCJD to create opportunities.”

Share

Program

According to Program Manager Audrey Barnes, the elective course will equip incarcerated youth with foundation in front-end development — coding that creates the visuals individuals see on their screens, when using apps and websites.

With these tech skills, teens will be able to apply for internships and apprenticeships with wages upwards of $25/hr upon release. 

Persevere will help place them. The national nonprofit has existing relationships with well known tech companies including — Indeed, Slack, Cornbread Hustle, Forbes — through its bootcamp for adult inmates.

Barnes says the course is an elective and does not replace regular academics. It’s structured similar to an after school program. 

While incarcerated, participants will receive two hours of in-person instruction two days a week. Basic coding languages — including coffeescript (a precursor to the one of most widely used languages, Javascript) and Python — are introduced through Code Monkey, a popular tech education platform. As individuals excel, more advanced languages like Javascript will be added.

Share

Learning doesn’t end when youth leave the facility. Persevere will provide virtual instruction to teens a year after they are released. 

The organization will also work alongside probation officers to ensure youth receive the mental health resources they need to re-adjust and re-enter society successfully.

“We take a holistic approach,” says Barnes. “It's so much more than just teaching them to code. It’s supporting sustainable futures.”

The justice organization intends to accommodate 10 cohorts, 40 students, over the next 12 months. Youth ages 13-17 are eligible to apply. Participants are selected based on aptitude and interest.

Barnes has already interviewed 15+ applicants. She asked each of them about their plans post release. The most common answer wasn't college.

Share

“They want to get a job and provide for their family,” she tells TENNBEAT. “Most of them come from low income households and are looking for the quickest, legal way to earn a living.”

According to the Tennessee Commission on Children and Youth, more than 60% of incarcerated adolescents come from families who live below the federal poverty level.

Financial instability and correctional facilities are inextricably linked. 

“People often end up back in prison because they committed a crime — selling drugs, stealing — to survive,” Hosman explains. “All most people have when they’re released is a record — no money, no housing, no job prospects. The system doesn’t set them up for success.”

Founding Persevere

He has seen this scenario firsthand. The addict turned serial entrepreneur was arrested 12 times between 2010 and 2012. 

“Just as my career was becoming the most successful it had ever been, I became an alcoholic and a drug addict,” Hosman says. “In July 2012, I made the decision to get clean and sober and return to the tech company I started.”

His friends were not as fortunate. The former inmates struggled to find stable employment or any employment at all. At first, he didn’t understand, but then it clicked.

“I was able to re-enter society because of the tech skills I had,” Hosmans tells TENNBEAT. “Technology is one of society’s great equalizers. The industry as a whole is more accepting of non-traditional candidates, including those with a criminal history.”

Many roles do not require four-year degrees. Short, high intensity accelerators  — more cost and time effective than college — lower the barrier to enter the industry.

The epiphany inspired the ex-con. Hosman began building out his own bootcamp. In 2014, he launched Persevere. The organization’s 12-month coding bootcamp equips prisoners with highly-sought after technical skills, so they can re-enter the workforce and earn a stable living.

Share

It has unlocked new futures for incarcerated individuals all across the U.S. Today, Persevere serves 12 adult facilities across 7 states  — Tennessee, Arizona, South Carolina, Georgia, Nebraska, Virginia, Florida. Massachusetts and Alaska will also be added to the map later this year.

The recidivism rate of those who have completed the adult program is less than 2-percent.

Hosman predicts Persevere’s new youth program will be as successful.

“It’s a different program, but we are applying the same principles that have worked on the adult level,” says Hosman. “These teens won’t become inmates. They’ll be IT professionals, entrepreneurs, coders and leaders in our community.”

Persevere has plans to roll out its program in two other Tennessee facilities this year — Wilder Youth Development and Wayne Halfway House.

💵 Donate & Support Local Journalism

*Help us tell more stories like this. Our publication is powered by donations from individuals and businesses like you. The more contributions we receive, the more stories we can cover. Whether you can afford to give one time or multiple times (set-up a recurring contributions), every dollar makes a difference. TENNBEAT is a 501c3 nonprofit. All donations are tax deductible.

AI used to be easy money —  key words: “Used to be”. Investment in the ultra hot sector has sputtered as tech startups struggle to turn enthusiasm into profit. Investment in AI startups fell from $117.16 billion in 2022 to $80.61 billion in 2023 — a 31.2% drop — according to TechCrunch.

Yet, some are still attracting suitors. Teaming is one of them.

The four-year old, Nashville subscription software startup, cemented a $3.8 million seed round Tuesday. The company also adopted a new name: Opre.

Share

“It’s operations and relationships,” says co-founder and CEO Kate O’Neil. “Our platform empowers managers to lead  more efficiently and effectively by understanding how team member relationships influence operations. It combines personal insights — communication style and personality types — and performance metrics to provide personalized, timely management recommendations.”

The new name is also a nod to the company’s Nashville roots — a play on the Grand Ole Opry.

Investors

A total of 18 investors came to Opre’s cap table. 17 were angels — 14 had Tennessee ties. 

Cascade Seed Fund — an institutional outfit based in Bend, Oregon — led the round. 

Share

"We rarely see such a talented team come together again to start a new company," says Robert Pease, Managing Director, Cascade Seed Fund. "They are addressing the challenge that every company in the world is now facing on how to blend online and offline management of a distributed workforce and doing it in a unique and meaningful way."

Opre marked Cascade’s second investment in Tennessee. Eva was the first. Last March, the Pacific coast capital group led the entertainment booking platform’s almost $2 million round.

Opre isn’t waiting to put the money to work. O’Neil says the company will add two to its six person team — a Sales Director and Senior Software Developer  — in the next three months. The scrappy startup will also hire a slew of contract software developers and rev up its marketing efforts.

About

O’Neil co-founded the company in 2019 alongside — Tim Mulron and Stephen Franklin. The trio met at LeanKit, a workflow automations company. They all worked in leadership roles. They all three saw a need to help managers, well manage better.

“We knew if we could create better managers, we could create better teams,” exclaims O’Neil.

Unlike other AI and automation platforms, Opre considers the man (and woman) in management. 

“People have been left out of the AI and automations loop,” says O’Neil. “AI and automations can perform simple tasks but they can’t replace people. They can’t build relationships.”

She says they can, however, help us understand them. AI and automations enable managers understand relationships more objectively and completely, so they make more informed and more strategic decisions.

Performance Reviews

O’Neil offers performance reviews as an example. Managers often hastily scribble down notes a day, sometimes even just an hour or two, before a 1:1 meeting or employee review. More often than not, those notes only reflect their recent interactions with employees. The review doesn’t consider all the communications or account for performance over the entirety of the  time period — monthly, quarterly, annually, etc.

“We aren’t blaming managers. We are managers,” laughs O’Neil. “It’s difficult to track all of these KPIs and communications across multiple platforms when you’re drowning in day to day operations.”

With Opre, comprehensive, objective employee reviews are auto-populated. Using AI and automations, Opre aggregates, sifts through and analyzes pages of online information — emails, team chats (think Slack, Microsoft Teams), meeting minutes and data from task management systems. This information is used to make recommendations to both the manager — on how to manage and motivate employees more effectively — and employees — on .

Share

1:1 Meetings & Relationships

Opre resolves issues outside of employee review periods too.

“At one of our client companies, a manager and a new employee were struggling to work together. Both people felt frustrated,” O’Neil tells TENNBEAT.

They turned Opre to help them suss out the source of the tension.

The software swiftly sorted through discussions to find the answer: The manager didn’t feel heard as the employee asked some of the same questions over and over. The employee, seeking as much clarity as possible, could sense a high degree of frustration. 

“Knowing the details of the relationship allowed them to understand each other and address the situation,” says O’Neil.

Administrative Tasks

In between performance reviews and 1:1s, managers can leverage Opre to automate administrative tasks. Take meetings. 

With Opre, Zoom (or Google meets) meeting minutes are automatically transcribed and summarized, action items discussed on the call are added to individual team member task lists, and follow-up meeting agendas are formed.

Share

“Managers get to be managers instead of admins,” she says.

Buying the idea

Businesses are buying O’Neil’s idea. 68 organizations — including two Fortune 500 companies, the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, and Humber College, Canada’s largest college — use Opre.

Share

“The accountability and empathy created with Opre, will make better managers, decrease employee turnover and reduce training timelines,” says O’Neil. “I also believe Opre can change the conversation on AI and automation — from replacing people to understanding them.”

Claudia Mata left Mexico in 2000. The 25-year-old single mom sought out a better life for five year old son Luis. She believed that life was in Tennessee.

Like many immigrants, she worked long hours for low wages. Each morning when she woke, she prayed that her hard work would be enough — that her son might have more opportunities than she.

It was enough. Today, 28-year-old Luis Mata is running for the Tennessee House of Representatives in District 49.

Lacking Latino representation

If elected, Mata would make history and become the first Latino to serve in the Tennessee state legislature. Delores Gresham was the first and only Latina elected to the assembly. She was elected to the House in 2002 and then to the Senate in 2008. She retired in 2021. 

Tennessee’s lack of Latin representation isn’t as uncommon as most might think. Five states — Alabama, Mississippi, Montana, South Dakota, and North Dakota  — have never elected a Latino or Latina to their state legislature.

Nationally, Hispanics account for almost 18% of the population. However, they hold less than 2% of all elected offices. As a whole they are even more underrepresented than African Americans.

But for Mata, this race isn’t about race.

“I’m not out to make history,” says Mata. “I’m out to make change.”

Share

The opponent

Mata faces Republican incumbent, Mike Sparks (R-Smyrna). The 57-year-old businessman owns an automotive company and is an active real estate investor. He is also a career politician. Prior to serving in the state legislature, Sparks served on the Rutherford County Commission from 2002 to 2011. 

He defeated Democrat incumbent and attorney Kent Coleman to recolor the district red in 2010. It was one of thirteen seats the GOP snagged to end the Democrat's 150 year stronghold.

Flipping the district

Flipping the district isn’t impossible, but it won’t be easy. The district — which encompasses parts of La Vergne, Smyrna and Murfreesboro — has run red since 2010. Recent redistricting has likely made it “even redder”, according to Mata.

“They gerrymandered the most diverse part of the district out in 2020,” he says, referring to the Lake Forest area located in Northeast La Vergne.

Mata isn’t deterred by the map. He plans to trump the Republican with a kitchen table platform: Protect Our Public Schools, Gun Violence Prevention and Economic Prosperity.

Share

Protect our public schools

Education is top of mind for Mata. It is for many Tennesseans.

Gov. Lee and the Republican ruled legislature are trying to railroad an almost half a billion dollar voucher program through the general assembly despite fierce opposition from school boards, parents and teachers all across the state.

The so-called school choice program would offer $7,075 to 20,000 parents in the form of “Educational Freedom Scholarships.”

Mata is adamantly opposed to the measure. He says it will defund Tennessee’s already underfunded public schools. The state currently ranks 46th in per student funding and 44th in teacher salaries.

Advocates of the initiative argue it provides parents with options. Out of state PACs have plastered the $7,075 offer on billboards across the state in an attempt to gain public approval.

“If it sounds too good to be true, it is,” says Mata, who is a product of Tennessee’s public school system. He attended Knox County Public Schools for grades K-12.   “This helps no one except those who already have access to private schools.”

He cites Iowa and Florida’s voucher programs as examples where over 60% of recipients were already enrolled in private schools.

Scholarships don’t cover the full cost of tuition. The average private school tuition in Tennessee is $11,341 — $4,266 more than the proposed scholarship amount.

“That’s just tuition,” he says. “That doesn’t include sports, field trips or lunch.”

Mata says school choice isn’t just a bad choice, but a dangerous one for disabled students. Parents relinquish many rights under the Individual with Disabilities Act (IDEA) when they send their student to private schools. This includes the right to dispute a disciplinary action at a hearing.

A 2018 study conducted by the State of Tennessee  concluded students with disabilities were three times more likely to be disciplined than their peers. It gets worse. The study showed students with disabilities received corporal punishment at a higher rate than non-disabled students. A law has since been passed preventing disabled students from receiving corporal punishment. However, disabled students are still expelled twice as often as their non-disabled peers and receive exclusionary discipline — such as time out, no recess and silent lunch — more frequently.

Scholarships also don’t guarantee admittance. Private schools still have the discretion to accept or not accept a student.

Mata believes he can swing Sparks voters on this issue. His confidence isn’t unfounded. Sparks has already caught the ire of his constituents and his own school board for supporting the so-called scholarships. 

In February, the Rutherford County School board passed a resolution opposing the parent choice program. A week later Sparks in an interview with the Tennessee Holler, said he still supported vouchers calling them, “Liberty and Freedom.”  Mata made an Instagram Post calling out his Republican opponent.

That isn’t the first time Sparks has sold out his own school system. In 2021 he went against the wishes of the Rutherford County School Board and supported the diversion of $4.8 million in public school funding to form a K-8 charter school — Rutherford Collegiate Prep.

Gun violence prevention

Education isn’t the only issue Mata plans to school Sparks on. Safety is under siege in Tennessee. The state ranks 10th in the nation for firearm mortality per capita. Since the Covenant School Shooting last March, there have been 1,254 firearm related deaths.

These statistics haven’t stopped state lawmakers from expanding access to firearms. Last week, the GOP filed a bill to allow individuals to openly carry assault rifles. 

Despite widespread support for red flag laws, Republican lawmakers — including Sparks — refuse to support any such legislation. They cite the line in the constitution that says, “Shall not infringe.” 

Mata says the laws don’t infringe on anyone’s rights. They save lives.

“The data doesn’t lie. The states with the lowest gun death rates have red flag laws while the states with the highest gun death rates do not. We must enact common sense gun laws. We must protect our people.”

Economic prosperity

Mata also wants to protect opportunity. It means everything to the immigrant.

However, he argues access to opportunity isn’t always equitable. He offers licenses as an example. Prior to 2021, some immigrants were unable to apply or obtain commercial or professional licenses in Tennessee. 

“So many careers require licenses,” says Mata. “If you want to be a hairdresser. You need a license. If you want to be a nurse, you need a license. If you want to be a truck driver, you need a license. The list goes on.”

“People that were legally, within the United States were unable to work many jobs,” says Rep. Bob Freeman (D-Nashville). “It wasn’t just taking away opportunity from individuals, but from Tennessee businesses.”

Freeman teamed up with the Tennessee Immigrant Refugee Rights Coalition (TIRRC) to tackle the issue. Mata was the organization’s policy coordinator at the time.

Their efforts led to the passage of a bipartisan bill to allow certain immigrants to obtain commercial and professional licenses. It was touted as a success on both sides of the aisle.

“It addressed the labor shortage and gave more than 10,000 individuals the opportunity to build their careers,” says Freeman. “I’m looking forward to serving with Luis and creating even more opportunities for individuals and businesses.

Mata doesn’t just want to create opportunities. He’s out to make an impact. He told tennbeat he will seek to amend the 2006 County Power Relief Act if elected.

The legislation prevents counties from collecting impact fees. The one-time development fees are designed to support local infrastructure. They are baked into the cost of building permits and can be used to expand sewer systems, add sidewalks, supplement local school funding and improve roads. 

“We must invest in our infrastructure to sustain new development,” says Mata.  “Murfreesboro is the sixteenth fastest growing city in the country. Our infrastructure has to grow alongside these new developments.”

Currently, the only county permitted to tack on the tariffs is Williamson County, the wealthiest county in Tennessee. 

Republican Mayor Joe Carr’s feelings match Mata’s. Earlier this year, the Rutherford County elected official made his second appeal to the general assembly on the issue, asking them to allow for counties to institute the fees. Carr also started a civic website advocating for them.

Something (or rather someone) the party can agree on

There’s division in Tennessee’s democratic party. Members are suing and slamming one another, but in midst of the mayhem, Mata is one thing, or rather one candidate many members agree on. Five state house representatives have endorsed Mata:

• Rep. Bob Freeman: “Luis has a grasp of the challenges our communities face and the ability to bring about solutions. He's impressive to say the least and he has what it takes to make a real difference here in Tennessee. I look forward to serving with him come November.”

• Rep. Caleb Hemmer: “Luis’s tireless work ethic, political acumen and organizing experience make him an ideal candidate for this swing district in Rutherford County.”

• Rep. Aftyn Behn: “Luis represents a new Democratic party: a democratic party that stands up to corporate donors, fights for its voters, and is invested in building a new generation of progressive leaders that can take back Tennessee.”

• Rep. Joe Towns: “Luis has the work ethic and leadership abilities to get things done. He is just the kind of representative the people need.”

• Rep. Vincent Dixie: “Luis is a proven servant leader. I’ve witnessed him work tirelessly for our communities. He listens and understands the needs of the community. Luis is the right choice to represent and move District 49 forward.”

Following in his family’s footsteps

Mata isn’t a traditional candidate — at least not in America, but he does have a political pedigree. Both his grandfather and his great-grandfather were elected officials. 

Mata’s grandfather, Jose Luis Mata Bracamontes, whom he is named after, was a Representative for his home state in Jalisco. His great-grandfather, Jose Guadalupe Mata was the Mayor of Guadalajara. Luis was unaware of his great-grandfather’s political position before this interview.

“I see so many of the same qualities of my dad and my grandpa in Luis,” says Claudia sentimentally.

His mother made him a man

Luis is proud of the public servants in his family. However, he doesn’t credit his leadership abilities to the Mata men. He gives all the glory to his mother. 

“I saw her sacrifice everything for me,” he says emotionally. “There was never a time growing up that she didn’t have at least two jobs. When I was in college, she started sewing baby clothes to make extra money. It helped pay for my education.”

“Real leaders put the future first. They put people first. They are willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. They are hardworking, humble and kind,” says Mata. “Real leaders are leaders like my mother. When I’m elected, I promise to lead like Claudia everyday.”

Tennessee’s Republican ruled legislature is attempting to railroad an almost half a billion dollar school voucher bill through its General Assembly, despite fierce opposition from parents, teachers and school boards all across the state.

State House Rep. Todd Warner (R-Chapel Hill) and Williamson County School Board member Eric Welch — both Republicans — have spoken out against the assault on public education.

Their opposition has made them unpopular within their own party and punching bags for out of state PACs like Americans for Prosperity, better known as AFP. Their opposition has also made them modern day Profiles in Courage.

Like the eight senators highlighted in JFK’s Pulitzer prize winning novel, Warner and Welch put public good —  in this case public schools — before party. Parents, superintendents and even lawmakers on the other side of the aisle have hailed the elected officials as heroes on this issue.

Rep. Todd Warner (R- Chapel Hill)

Warner is as Republican as they come. The MAGA supporter has a life-size cutout of Donald Trump in his office, where Fox News plays softly in the background like elevator music.

“I was born and raised a Republican,” Warner tells tennbeat. “This piece of legislation isn’t conservative. It’s an entitlement program. It lacks any sort of transparency or accountability.”

“Public tax dollars should stay in public schools — plain and simple.”

Warner first shared these feelings during a K-12 subcommittee hearing last month. He questioned chairman Mark White (R-Memphis) and Education Commissioner Lizette Reynolds on a number of issues including whether or not schools who received vouchers would have to adhere to certain curriculum standards and whether or not they would have to accept any student with a voucher.

“The short answer to her long response was no,” says Warner.

He also raised concerns about testing requirements. Public schools must follow state and federal testing to receive funding. private schools who participate in the voucher program will not be held to the same standard.

Rep. Sam McKenzie (D-Knoxville) sits with Warner on the K-12 subcommittee. He is the only Democrat on the nine person panel. 

“I don’t see eye to eye with Warner on everything…actually I’d say I don’t see eye to eye with him on most things,” says McKenzie. “But on this we are aligned. I really respect him for representing and voting in the interest of his constituents.”

Share

Warner hasn’t shied away from his opinion. He continues to speak out in committee and online about the issue.

“I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for him. I can’t imagine the amount of hate mail he’s received,” says McKenzie.

Warner has received hate mail. He’s received hate snail mail, hate emails, and hate voicemails.

“People tell me they’re going to get me…that they’re going to end my career. They say all kinds of craziness.”

Not a single one of those threats has come from a constituent, Warner says. All are from the mouths of “money grubbing” lobbyists and special interest groups. 

Those same groups have even started sending mailers and texting people outside of Warner’s district. 

“They’re telling people all across the state to call me and try and convince me to vote for this scam,” says Warner. “One of them even started a website saying I side with Biden. It’s bullsh**.”

Jennifer Bowyer is one of Warner’s constituents. She doesn’t “buy the lies AFP or Cameron Sexton are selling.” Her eighth grade daughter attends Forest School — the same 7-12 high school Warner attended.

She says private school is out of the question. There isn’t a single private school in District 92. The closest one is almost an hour away.

Even if there was one in the area, she doubts she would send her daughter. Bowyer believes in the public school system. Her eldest son is what Warner calls “one of many successes of our public schools”. He graduated “top 10 in his class” and received an academic scholarship to the prestigious Pepperdine University.

“Todd stands up for our schools,” says Bowyer. “He isn’t a sell out. We’ve had a sellout.”

Bowyer is referring to Warner’s predecessor, Rep. Rick Tillis (R-Lewisburg) who served the district from 2016 to 2020. The former Republican Whip first fell into hot water after admitting to trashing his conservative colleagues from an anonymous Twitter account — aptly named the Cordell Hull Building Mole (@chbmole).

Before he came clean, someone who suspected Tillis as the Twitter troll, peed in his office chair. Tillis survived the intraparty scandal and sitting in a piss-soaked chair. However, he died on voucher hill.

Share

“He told us he would not support school vouchers,” says Marshall County School Superintendent Jacob Sorrels who has served the district since 2013. “What he said and what he did were two different things.”

Tillis caved under the pressure of then House Speaker Glenn Casada (R-Franklin). In 2018, he voted in favor of vouchers. The Republicans remembered Tillis’s loyalty. Now-House Speaker Cameron Sexton pumped $7,000 into his 2020 re-election campaign through a PAC. Voters didn’t forget the flip flop either.

“It cost him his election,” says Warner, who upset the infamous incumbent. “He went against our school board, our superintendent and the people of District 92.”

Rep. Joe Towns Jr. (D-Memphis), who has served in the legislature since 1994, seconds his assertion.  

“When Tillis did his district dirty, they (his constituents) didn’t forgive him for it.”

Towns knows Warner well. The Memphis Democrat’s office is right next door to the rural Republican’s.

“The integrity and courage Warner has shown is admirable. I’d even say it's inspiring. His party will probably primary him for it, but he’ll be alright. His people know who he is.”

Instagram comments echo this sentiment. Countless constituents praised Warner on a Tennessee Holler clip highlighting his questioning during the committee hearing.

Eric Welch, Williamson County School Board Member

While Warner is without a doubt the standout Republican representative on this issue, no school board member has fought longer or harder against vouchers than Eric Welch.

“Welch is one of the good guys,” says McKenzie. “He always shows up for his schools.”

The fourth generation Army veteran has served on the Williamson County School Board since 2010. Both his children, now-grown, graduated from the local school system.

Welch isn’t even opposed to the idea of vouchers altogether. In fact, he says he was the recipient of one, referring to the U.S. GI Bill. He took advantage of the federally funded program to attend George Mason University.

“That voucher program has checks and balances, reporting requirements and does not discriminate,” he tells tennbeat. “Lee and his allies have put together a program that eliminates every protection for protected classes.”

Share

Welch says the program discriminates on income, disability and religion. 

Former teacher and District 45 State House Candidate Alison Beale seconds his statement. “Vouchers are a scam that will defund our already underfunded public schools, fuel inequity, and abandon our most vulnerable children,” she says.

Vouchers don’t cover the full cost of tuition. The average private school tuition in Tennessee is $11,341. The proposed scholarships are only $7,075.

“Who’s going to make up that $5,000,” asks Welch. “That’s just tuition. That doesn’t take into account transportation, after school activities and lab fees.”

Vouchers also don’t guarantee admittance. Private schools still have the discretion to accept or not accept a student.

“Public schools accept everyone regardless of race, religion, economic background They are there to protect and serve everyone,” says Welch. “Private schools can deny admittance to any student they don’t feel like is a fit. Do you think they are jumping to accept and make accommodations for kids with disabilities?”

Welch says the current Educational Savings Account (ESA) pilot program is already discriminating on the basis of religion. He cites St. Edwards School as an example. The Nashville parochial school, which is accepting vouchers from the program, has a catholic and non catholic tuition rate.

“When you’re receiving public dollars you shouldn’t have a higher rate based on religious affiliation,” says Welch. “St. Edwards shouldn’t be receiving vouchers at all.”

Share

The son of a State Representative Gino Bulso (R-Brentwood) — Father Andrew Bulso — presides over the school. Bulso is the same lawmaker who introduced legislation to ban books and then filed a lawsuit against his own school system over the books.

Welch was eager to share these concerns at the House Education Administration Committee two weeks ago. An elected official asked him to testify. However, the evening before the House hearing Welch was informed, “They had too many witnesses.” 

Another Williamson County resident was chosen to testify instead. That resident was far right media personality and AFP ambassador Robby Starbuck. The 36-year-old California transplant has two school age children. Neither of them attend Williamson County’s public schools.

Welch says extremists like Starbuck and Bulso are not only hurting local schools but the economy.

“Williamson County's success can be tied directly to the performance of our state-leading public schools. Our local economy will be affected by these vouchers — and not for the better.”

He says out-of-state headquarters often choose to relocate to Williamson County, because of the area's award winning schools.

“Companies know their employees want to live and work where the public school system is strong.”

Jay Shah, a Williamson County resident who has two children in the public school system says he’s “proud to have school board members like Eric Welch standing up for the community.”

“He’s right,” says Shah, a real estate attorney. “It won’t just affect the schools but the economy as well. Property values will take a hit. I’m grateful someone is calling this out.”

Share

Natasha Bell, a third grade teacher at Glenncliff Elementary School in Antioch, is also grateful.

“We’re working hard everyday to educate the next generation,” says Bell, who has taught at the Title 1 school for five years. “Its troubling to know that the elected officials who are supposed to support our public schools are attacking them. I’m grateful for those who are brave enough to stand up and defend us and our students.”

Profiles in Courage was published nearly 70 years ago. The story’s sentiment has stood the test of time. 

“Great crises produce great men and great deeds of courage.”

This rings true in Tennessee where, “Today, the challenge of political courage looms larger than ever before.”

Share

Seven years ago, Megan Feeman felt burnt out, so she started making cookie dough. After selling just ten tubs, the 23-year-old called her corporate job quits. 

Her half-baked decision has paid off. Today, Feeman’s NoBaked Cookie Dough dons the aisles of almost 400 stores across 27 states. 

DashMart, DoorDash’s digital convenience store, is the most recent retailer to say “yes” to NoBaked. The ready to eat raw dough is available for purchase in all 36 cities the app serves.

Share

Kroger also picked up her product. The Cincinnati born supermarket is selling the uncooked dessert in its Tennessee and North Alabama locations.

Feeman, who was featured in Forbes 30 under 30 alongside her husband last year, says that while the success is sweet, the journey has been all but cookie cutter.

A raw idea

Like many Belmont alums, Feeman tried to make it in the music business. After college, she took a role on Music Row. A year-and-a-half into employment, she realized she had no business in the music business or in anyone else’s business. She wanted to start something of her own. 

It didn't seem far-fetched to Feeman, who comes from a family of entrepreneurs. Her parents own and operate a flooring company in Kentucky.

“I didn’t know what business I would start, ”she says. “I just knew I wanted to work for myself, and I started thinking about what I liked and what others might like.”

Cookie dough came to mind. Her egg-free recipe uses specially treated flour and is safe to eat.

“Most people know raw dough is risky because of the eggs, but a lot don’t realize untreated flour can have e-coli,” she says.

Edible cookie dough wasn’t mainstream. There were only a few brands on the market.

Feeman decided to take her raw idea and run with it. She began working on a website.

Share

On March 30, she was ready to roll; the website went live and Feeman received her first orders. She fulfilled all 10 that weekend. That weekend she also decided to quit her job.

“I felt like I had sold 100,” laughs the now 29-year-old entrepreneur. “I was all in from that point forward.”

Her now-husband Jimmy, supported her hasty decision.

“We weren’t making a lot of money, but we also weren’t spending a lot,” says Jimmy. “Megan was really into minimalism and our rent at the time was $1,300 a month — which we split between the two of us.”

Megan began reaching out to local influencers, offering samples in exchange for features on their feeds. The following week, her alma mater rang and asked if she’d be interested in participating in a pop-up event at the end of April.

NoBaked was a hit at Belmont’s Record Day. Feeman sold 40 containers of cookie dough.

She also felt validated. Her social media strategy was working. Two teen girls from Portland, Tennessee drove an hour to buy NoBaked. They discovered it on Instagram.

Feeman continued to pedal her product online and at pop-up events. She became a fixture at local farmers markets.

Setting up shop

In July, Jimmy quit his job and joined Megan as a cofounder. The newly engaged entrepreneurs set out to start a storefront.

The two found an affordable space off West End Avenue. There was only one problem. They weren’t exactly an ideal tenant profile.

“Not a lot of people were going to lease to two 23-year-olds who had been selling cookie dough for a couple months,” says Jimmy.

Megan wrote a letter to a landlord. It moved the needle, and NoBaked into a building.

In October, the couple set up shop in a 750 square foot suite near Centennial Park and added four new flavors into the fold. Oatmeal Chocolate Chip, Cookie Monster, Red Velvet and Brownie Batter joined their three “OG offerings” — Chocolate Chip, Confetti Sugar and Cookies N Cream.

The so-called scoop shop emulated an ice cream parlor. Customers could enjoy the dessert in a cup or a cone.

The couple got their first taste of success, in the first six months, selling $300,000 of edible dough.

“We thought we had figured it all out,” says Jimmy. “We thought we had the Midas touch.”

The Feemans were eager to open another store — in March they did. They opened their second location in Louisville, Megan’s hometown. The couple paid for the buildout using every “credit card they could qualify for”.

Megan and Jimmy got married in June. Things were going well, so well that the Feeman’s thought they should franchise the business. That September NoBaked’s first franchise opened in Springfield, Missouri. Two more franchises followed in October — Lexington and Chattanooga. 

The newlyweds also opened another scoop shop of their own — this time in Germantown.

Operating stores and assisting franchisees was a lot. It was too much to manage alongside e-commerce. The Feeman’s decided to focus on scaling the scoop shops, and shut down the site.

Share

Crummy times

From the outside, the two appeared to have it all — four stores, three franchisees and a baby on the way — but 2019 was a crummy year for the couple. They felt unfulfilled and financially strained.

“We weren’t doing what we liked anymore,” says Megan. “The scoop shops took our attention away from the actual product. We were spending our time training managers and franchise owners.”

Their out of town stores were struggling. Jimmy tried to come up with new ways for franchisees and managers to attract customers. Nothing seemed to stick.

In November, they decided to pivot and become a product company again. Megan mapped out a plan and turned the online store back on.

The Feeman’s weathered the winter, but it was bleak. By February, Megan was eight months pregnant and paycheckless. 

Share

“We had overextended ourselves last year building out the new Edgehill location and with our sales volume dropping month after month we hadn’t paid ourselves in 7 months,” explains Jimmy. “The site was on but we still had to manage our stores and assist the franchisees. We couldn’t completely pivot.”

Tornado, covid and a baby

March hit Nashville and No Baked hard. On the third, severe storms ripped through town. A tornado torpedoed their Germantown store. Three days later, Tennessee’s first case of COVID was confirmed. Social distancing guidelines ensued shortly after, shutting down all their scoop shops — not just in Nashville but everywhere.

Share

For the first time in a long time, the Feeman’s felt free. With the scoop shops closed, the couple was able to go all in on e-commerce. They pulled their full-time employees over to a single store and started pouring money into online ads.

“We had a friend in digital marketing who told us to start committing $400 each day (to online ads),” says Jimmy. “At that time, Facebook and Instagram ads had the best returns since 2014.”

It worked. NoBaked — which averaged around $20,000 a month in online sales since turning its site back on in November — raked in over $160,000 revenue the last two weeks of March.

Sales continued to soar. NoBaked was no longer gasping for air; it was growing. The cookie dough company saw a 1,600% increase in revenue over the next 12 months. 

Share

In April 2021, the couple crowdfunded a $450,000 investment to support the growth. They also cut the bow on their Fifth and Broadway location. NoBaked signed a lease for the location two years prior, but the pandemic put things on pause. It has become their most successful storefront.

That Christmas, the ad age came to an end and NoBaked pivoted…again.

“We were spending somewhere around $100,000 a month on Facebook and Instagram ads,” says Megan. “We weren’t seeing the same returns. They’d become ineffective.”

They cut all of their online ad spend and got focused on grocery stores. By July 2023, the Feeman’s had broken into 300+ supermarkets — including Fresh Market.

Share

Today, NoBaked manufactures more than 4,000 containers of cookie dough each week. 

The company has plans to heat things up even more in 2024. The Feeman’s have set out to raise a $1.5 million seed round this spring. They’ll use the funds to ramp up production and place their product in more retailers.

Allie Phillips' story has attracted national attention. It highlights the extremism of Tennessee’s abortion ban. 

At 19 weeks pregnant, Phillips and her husband Bryan Lynch found out their daughter Miley Rose had multiple fatal fetal anomalies. Miley wasn’t going to survive. Allie wouldn’t either if she didn’t have an abortion. Tennessee's trigger ban forced her to travel out of state to terminate her pregnancy. When she arrived at the clinic in New York, she was informed her daughter had already passed. Physicians performed the procedure, and Phillips returned to Tennessee.

She scheduled a meeting with her state house representative. She asked Rep. Jeff Burkhart to run a bill, Miley’s Bill. It would allow women with fatal fetal anomalies to terminate their pregnancy in Tennessee. Phillips didn’t want another family to endure this trauma.

His response? “Well, I guess I’m just a guy, but I didn’t think you could have complications after the first one (pregnancy).” Phillips walked out. She decided to run for office — his office.

Nearly every major media outlet — Time, Elle, Washington Post and countless others — has covered this chapter of the Clarksville Candidate’s story. But there’s more behind her platform than her pregnancy.

“My abortion made me aware of how out of touch our elected officials are — not just on reproductive rights but on everyday issues — education, gun control, healthcare,” says Phillips. “I’m fighting for reproductive rights, but I’m running so regular people are represented.”

Before calling her a one woman issue, Allie Phillips asks you to hear her story, the stories of the ones she loves and the stories of those she hopes to represent. 

Education: Keep public tax dollars in public schools

Phillips fears for the future of Tennessee’s public schools. Her six year old daughter Adalie attends an elementary school in Clarksville.

Gov. Lee is pressuring the state legislature to pass his Education Scholarship Freedom Act. 

The so-called “school choice program” is an expansion of the Educational Savings Account pilot program that passed in 2018. Both initiatives take tax dollars from public schools and give them to parents to help pay for private school. 

“School choice is a scam,” she says. “It defunds our already underfunded schools.”

Tennessee ranks 43rd in funding per student and 40th in teacher in salaries.

School choice spells disaster for everyone, but especially for low income families like Phillips’. Scholarships don’t cover the full cost of tuition. The average private school tuition in Tennessee is $11,341. The proposed scholarships are $7,075.

“That’s just tuition,” says Phillips. “That doesn’t include sports, field trips or even lunch.”

First grade Adalie is part of the 46-percent of pupils eligible to receive free or reduced lunch in Tennessee.

“She’s picky,” says Phillips as she pulls out a CapriSuns. “Sometimes I pack her lunch, but she eats school lunch about 3 days a week. It definitely makes a difference in our monthly budget.”

There’s no such thing as free lunch at private schools. They aren’t eligible to receive the federal funds that support the program.

It isn’t just Adalie she worries about. Phillips frets for her friends' children too.

Joney Denny recently relocated back to Tennessee from Kentucky. She and Phillips are thick as thieves — they have been since the fourth grade. The 29-year old and her husband have two children. Both are enrolled in public school. Both have disabilities.

10-year-old Asher has ADHD. He is on what is known as a 504 plan which provides students with extra assistance in the classroom — like tailored instruction and assignments.

8-year-old Jaycee’s disability is more severe. She suffers from cerebral palsy and has an Individual Education Plan (IEP). Unlike a 504 plan which provides general education assistance, IEPs are for students who require special education services such as transportation, and an extended school year, in addition to tailored instruction and assignments.

“Education is everything to me,” says Denny, who is in her third year of special education studies. “I started volunteering with special needs students when I was in 5th grade.”

Share

Denny argues school choice isn’t just a bad choice, but a dangerous one for disabled students. Parents relinquish many rights under the Individual with Disabilities Act (IDEA) when they send their student to private schools — including the right to dispute a disciplinary action at a hearing.

“That’s a big one,” says Denny.

A 2018 study conducted by the State of Tennessee  concluded students with disabilities were three times more likely to be disciplined than their peers. It gets worse. The study showed students with disabilities received corporal punishment at a higher rate than non-disabled students. A law has since been passed preventing disabled students from receiving corporal punishment. However, disabled students are still expelled at twice as often as their non-disabled peers and recieve exclusionary displine — such as time out, no recess and silent lunch — more frequently.

Scholarships also don’t guarantee admittance. Private schools still have the discretion to accept or not accept a student.

“It’s not pass GO, collect your $7,000 coupon and go to whatever school you want,” says Denny, who is also an aid at local Clarksville school. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s still up to the school on whether or not they want to accept a student. You don’t get to go somewhere just because you want to.”

Share

Denny doubts private schools would jump to accept Jaycee or Asher.

“Do you think admissions look through the stack of applications and say we want a disabled kid whose parents don’t have a dollar to donate?” 

Phillips echoes her close friend’s concerns. First grader, Adalie is autistic. She like Jaycee, has an IEP.

“Adalie would not do well in a private school,” she says. “She needs the attention, the resources and the rights of a public school.”

Even if there were a private school Phillips felt was a fit for Adalie — she would struggle to transport her there. She and her husband share a car. 

“Private schools don’t offer transportation,” says Phillips. “I watch 4 kids here at the house. That’s how I make money. They get dropped off early. There’s no way with one car Bryan and I could get her to a private school.”

Lynch’s car quit working a little over a year ago. They can’t afford to pay $4,000 to have it fixed. His vehicle is a vegetable. It sits in the driveway next to an engine he bought to replace the defunct one.

“He still doesn’t have all the parts he needs,” says Phillips. “We can’t afford those yet. It’s going to be awhile before this thing is up and running again.”

Denny is in the same boat. She and her husband also share a vehicle.

“With me in school, another car is out of the question,” says Williams. “We’re just getting by.”

Gun Control: Red flag laws

Talks of education triggered a conversation on gun control. Phillips is appalled by the legislature’s refusal to pass red flag laws. She calls it “criminal.”

“They have blood on their hands,” says Phillips. “These tragedies are preventable. They choose the second amendment over the lives of our children.”

Her husband, who grew up hunting and still enjoys an occasional trip to the “range”, is also in favor of red flag laws.

“It’s just common sense,” says Lynch. “Most gun owners agree. They’ve done studies showing that.”

According to a recent referendum, 84-percent of Tennesseans support the measure that would temporarily take handguns away from those a judge deems mentally unstable.

Phillips goes further. “You should have to take a safety class and show that you own a safe.”

She continues, adding the Covenant Shooting is an example of how, “...issues have to hit home for most people to care.” She cites Governor Lee’s call for a special session.

“If his wife’s friend had not been killed, I don’t think he would have called for the session,” she says. “It hit home for him. It hit home for most Tennesseans. It hit home for everyone except the Republicans in the legislature receiving NRA money.”

Healthcare: Expand Medicaid and cap insulin

That’s not the only crime against constituents. Phillips says the legislature's failure to expand medicaid is downright despicable. 

She and Adalie are on Medicaid. Bryan is not. He doesn’t qualify, so he goes without health insurance.

“My options are: Make less money, hurt our family and qualify or pay $300+ a  month for a high deductible plan,” he says frustrated. “If they expanded the program, I’d qualify.”

Very few working men meet the razor thin requirements. Tennesseans typically have to make less than $2,000 month to qualify. Disabled individuals and women with children and/or who are pregnant are usually the only ones who get the golden ticket.

The General Assembly has voted against expansion every single year since its inception. Also known as the Medicaid Match, the program provides coverage to people who make too much money for traditional Medicaid, but too little to pay for their own insurance. It is estimated that 150,000 Tennesseeans would qualify for insurance with expansion.

Share

Denny interjects. She calls TennCare a nightmare.

“When we moved here, we immediately applied for TennCare,” explains Williams. “I’m talking Day 1.”

She says she and her husband’s applications were approved about a month after. Asher’s application wasn’t. His is still pending. 

In addition to ADHD, fourth grade Asher has anxiety. He typically takes medication for both conditions.  He hasn’t had any in three months.

“I’ve called. I’ve emailed. I’ve tried going to their office,” she says. “No one can give me an answer. They tell me just to wait.”

Williams wasn’t going to wait. Her child needs medication now. After thirty days of “pending” and pyrrhic responses from TennCare, she took matters into her own hands. 

“I called to make an appointment with his old doctor in Kentucky,” says Williams. “The office told me we would have to pay for the visit and prescriptions out of pocket. We weren’t Kentucky residents. We didn’t have KCHIP (Kentucky’s Medicaid program) anymore.”

Without insurance, his prescriptions cost a pretty penny. According to Williams, the total for the two medications would be over $400.

“That’s for one month,” she says. “That also doesn’t include the doctor's visit.”

Phillips campaign manager Megan Lange isn’t on Medicaid. The 32-year-old has health insurance through her husband. Even with insurance, she shells out over $2,500 a month managing her Type 1 diabetes. She says she spends nearly everything she earns on medical expenses.

Share

“One of my medications is over $800 a month,” says Lange, a marketing and campaign consultant. “I’m not the only one hurting. We (Tennessee) have one of the highest rates of diabetes in the country.”

Tennessee is tied with Kentucky with the sixth highest rate of diabetes in the country. Roughly 730,000 residents, 13.6% of the state’s population have been diagnosed as diabetic.

25 states and the District of Columbia have capped insulin copayments. Tennessee isn’t one of them. Phillips wants to change that.

“There’s no excuse,” says Phillips. “We should have done something at the state level by now.”

She continues,“...they say health is wealth. The reality is, if you live in Tennessee, you need wealth to have health. It shouldn’t be that way. It doesn’t have to be.”

Fundraising the new way: An online influencer

Phillips’ financial situation bleeds over into all aspects of her life. Like many low income individuals, her finances make many decisions for her. She almost didn’t run for office.

“My opponent is largely self funded,” says Phillips. “Bryan and I can barely afford to make ends meet.”

Phillips and her husband live paycheck to paycheck. Combined the two took home $50,000 last year. That money has to house and feed their family of three. 

“Regular people aren’t represented in the legislature because regular people can’t afford to run,” she says. “Our representatives don’t understand the issues of everyday people because their bank accounts don’t look like those of everyday people.”

Phillips keeps four kids at her home each day. Bryan delivers appliances. Their income is inconsistent.

“If a kid is sick, they stay home. I don’t make money. If I’m sick or Adalie is sick, I can't keep the kids. I don’t make money. If I go to the capitol or do anything for my campaign, I can’t keep kids. I don’t make money,” says Phillips candidly.

“I’m 1099’d,” says Lynch. “I get paid $200 each day I deliver, but I don’t deliver everyday. Some weeks I work 6 or 7 days. Other weeks I might work two days.”

“I’m going to need to raise at least $250,000 to run for a $28,000 a year job,” says Phillips. “It’s insanity, but it's reality.”

Share

Phillips' friend State House Rep. Aftyn Behn reiterates her assertion.

“The cost of running a campaign creates a big barrier for many would-be passionate public servants," says Behn. “The establishment views a credible candidate as someone who can raise $50,000 from friends and family in one week.”

She understands the uphill battle Phillips faces. She had one herself. But, Behn also knows it's possible to overcome. Her grassroots campaign resulted in an impressive primary upset against the establishment.

“When I won, I promised myself and those who elected me I would work to break down barriers for other non-traditional candidates,” she says.“We need more women and more working class people in the legislature. We need people like Allie.”

So how is Phillips fundraising? She’s taken an unconventional approach. She’s turned to TikTok. Lange estimates 70% of Phillips’ $90,000 in campaign donations have originated through her account.

The millennial mom is an influencer. More than 340,000 people follow Phillips.

She created her first video during COVID. Two months into using the app, one of her time lapse coloring videos went viral. She shot up to 70,000 followers almost overnight.

“People always assume it was my abortion story that made me go viral,” says Phillips. “It wasn’t.”

Old school politicos have criticized the candidate — calling her online activity  unprofessional and unpolished.

Behn disagrees. She calls it, “entrepreneurial”. 

“Non-traditional candidates aren’t going to raise money the traditional way,” says Behn “I think what she is doing is innovative. It also creates a diverse donor base. She is reaching people other Democrats haven’t.”

Her opponent, Republican Jeff Burkhart won the recently redrawn Clarksville district with 55-percent of the vote. He loaned his campaign $110,000 — which he still hasn’t paid back — to do so.

Beating Burkhart would be big. It would be historic.

It would be a win for Democrats.

• It would weaken the Republican supermajority’s stronghold. Democrats only account for 24 of the 99 seats in the Tennessee State House of Representatives.

It would be a win for women.

• At age 28, Phillips would be the youngest woman ever elected to the Tennessee General Assembly. London Lamar was the youngest at age 32.

• She would be the first woman to represent District 75.

• Phillips would provide much needed female representation to the Tennessee House of Representatives. Today, women comprise just 12% of the Tennessee House of Representatives. The only state house with less female representation is West Virginia (11%). Of the 12 women in the Tennessee House only three are Democrats: Rep. Aftyn Behn (D-Nashville), Rep. Gloria Johnson (D-Knoxville), and Rep. Karen Camper (D-Memphis).

It would be a win for Tennessee. Phillips would focus on the kitchen table issues that affect everyone.

Phillips knows the odds are against her. She doesn’t have a political pedigree. She doesn’t have money, and she isn’t a man. But she isn't to be underestimated. She is ready to roar.

“When I first declared my candidacy, someone told me I was walking into a lion's den,” says Phillips. “I told them…I am the lion.”

Share

Gray Skinner and Morgan Miller won multiple track and field state championships during their tenure at Montgomery Bell Academy.

20 years later, the Class of 2002 alumni are teaming up again. This time the childhood friends aren’t running relay races. They're building unicorns. No, not the kind with shiny horns and multi-colored manes — but tech companies with billion dollar valuations. Skinner’s software development company, MasterBorn has already engineered three — ClickFunnels, Outside and Medable. 

With Miller by his side, he expects MasterBorn to make even more magic.

Share

“We have a history of winning together,” says Skinner, who recently relocated back to Nashville from Europe. “I’m confident that with Morgan as VP of Growth at MasterBorn, we will win again.”

The two reconnected over a game of ultimate frisbee on the football field of their alma mater in August.

“It’s poetic,” says Miller. “We started this new chapter at our school — the place where our story began.”

Skinner’s five-year-old firm has built software for 75+ startups across the globe and is on track to achieve nearly eight figures in revenue this year. The two will open a Nashville office in 2024 and add 30 to its 120 person team. Skinner says MasterBorn will maintain its two original offices in Poland.

Share

“Our friendship has certainly gone the distance, but we have so much farther to go,” says Skinner.

Different tracks

After high school, the two took different tracks. Skinner traveled to the Triangle and studied communications at the University of North Carolina. 

“The overachiever finished in 3 years,” says Miller, who earned an athletic scholarship to Ole Miss, where he majored in Finance.

Despite the distance, Miller and Skinner stayed in touch.

“Gray called me more than my mom did,” laughs Miller. “He kept up with all my races. It’s really impressive when you realize cell phones and social media weren't mainstream.”

Skinner returned to the Tri-Star state where he attended law school at the University of Tennessee. The newly minted attorney had no trouble finding a job after graduation.

Bazaarvoice hired the Volunteer straight out of school. In 2010, Skinner joined the company as in-house counsel. The Texas tech startup was a pioneer in e-commerce intelligence. Its platform enabled companies like P&G and Walmart to capture valuable customer insights online. Two years after he arrived, the Austin-based business IPOd. During his tenure he also adopted the title of Chief of Staff.

Share

“It gave me the opportunity to learn how to build teams,” says Skinner. 

In 2015, Skinner left the Lone Star state. Droplr, an Oregon software startup, recruited the 30-year-old to serve as its CEO. The company set out to reinvent remote work with its show and tell style screen recording app.

“We saw the need for more streamlined collaboration and communication before Covid,” says Skinner.

It was a tall order, but Droplr delivered.

Shortly after Skinner started, enterprise companies like AirBnB, Nike, Pixar and Squarespace adopted its app.

Droplr, like Loom, allows users to record their screen and camera simultaneously to create short informative tutorials and messages. Easy-to-use video editing tools allow people to annotate and explain what’s on the screen.

In 2019, Skinner steered Droplr through its seven figure sale to Triangle Digital Ventures.

Meanwhile, Miller was making a name for himself back in Music City. In 2018, the government contracting guru co-founded Ichor Sciences.The medical device company has developed a new way to treat wounds on the battlefield.

Share

MasterBorn is born

After the exit, Skinner left Bend behind. He packed his bags and headed for Poland. He set out to start a software development company.

The idea for the firm came from his friends. They often asked him for advice on how to turn their ideas into actual tech.

Skinner had a knack for assembling teams, specifically Polish tech teams. He developed the skill while at Droplr.  

“In 2015 we were searching for tech talent overseas,” explains Skinner. “American tech talent was and still is monopolized by the tech giants in Silicon valley. The starting salaries are unrealistic. Small to mid-size companies can’t compete.”

Droplr assessed the usual suspects — southeast Asia and India — but the data pushed them to Poland.

“Statistics showed it was consistently one of the top three markets for tech talent,” says Skinner. “The talent and the people were unparalleled. They integrated with our American team culturally and technically. They became a part of our team.”

Share

Skinner made his first overseas hire in 2016 — Radek Paklikowski. Three years later, the Polish employee became his co-founder.

Share

“MasterBorn wouldn’t be what it is today without Radek,” says Skinner. “We make a good team. Our backgrounds and our skill sets are dramatically different, but we share the same vision and values.”

A lesson to be learned 

“Running a business is a lot like running a relay race,” says Skinner. “It takes endurance, determination and teammates you trust to pass the baton to. Find the right teammates and you’ll cross the finish line.”

Four years ago, Laurel Orley felt like a shell of herself. The Nashville mom of three was unenchanted by her remote marketing role. She was hungry for something more. She wanted to start a business.

Fast forward to today, the 43 year-old founder is feeling full. She left her longtime  job with Unilever and launched Daily Crunch — an all natural line of extra-crunchy almonds. 

From haute health food stores like LA’s Erewhon to popular supermarkets like Publix, more than 5,000 retailers across 50 states sell her sprouted snacks. 

Share

People are nuts for the Nashville noshes— people like Cindy Crawford. The A-list actress shared a photo of her Nashville Hot Almonds on a September Instagram story.

Major media outlets are obsessed too. The health food brand has been featured in Forbes, hailed in Good Housekeeping and even made its way onto Good Morning America — twice.

The success has been sweet, but Orley says, cracking into the natural food industry has been hard.

Dreaming up Daily Crunch

“I wanted to build something from the ground up” she says. “I wanted to build something with our own mission, with our own story.”

The aspiring entrepreneur had a handful of ideas, but in December, she arrived at almonds.

“Most families have a special snack they make during the holidays — fudge, cookies or some sort of chex mix,” says Orley. “In our family, it’s Diane’s sprouted nuts.”

Orley devoured her Aunt Diane’s almonds. She couldn’t help but think they were lighter and crunchier than other almonds. It wasn’t in her mind. 

Diane’s signature sprout and dehydrate process — which laid the foundation for Daily Crunch’s 4-day patent pending process — produces a pin size hole inside the almond. The airy center creates a superior crunch. It also makes the nuts more nutrient dense.

According to Orley, nut’s contain a substance called phytic acid. The acid impairs the body’s ability to absorb all of the nut’s nutrients. Soaking the nuts breaks down the barrier and allows for greater absorption. 

“Rather than roasting nuts, my Aunt Diane dehydrates hers,” she says. “Roasting nuts destroys a lot of the nutrients and are typically processed with refined oils.”

She wanted to make the almonds mainstream. With her aunt’s blessing, Orley was off to the races — well…almost.

A seasoned co-founder

 She knew success would be far more likely with someone seasoned by their side — someone with experience, someone like Dan Stephenson. 

The former financial analyst turned entrepreneur founded Dan’s Gourmet, an all natural line of artisanal mac n cheese, in 2010 while working at Ingram Barge. By the end of 2019, his premade pasta was in the frozen food section of 3,000 stores.

“Dan is unique,” says Orley. “He understands both the business side and the niches of the  food industry. I am so grateful that he agreed to come on as our COO and a co-founder back in 2020.”

Sprouting the business

Daily Crunch was born at the most inopportune time — March 2020.

“It was a really difficult year for us to get traction in retail,” Orley says. “I had a large retailer tell me if we weren’t milk or toilet paper to not even bother reaching out since we weren’t a pandemic brand.“

Discouraged but not deterred, she shifted her sales strategy. Rather than focusing on physical retailers, she spent most of her energy on e-commerce. She didn’t completely abandon her in-store aspirations. Orley continued to pitch her product to local markets.

Her persistence paid off. Produce Place, Nashville’s oldest all natural health foods store, bought into Orley. The Murphy Road retailer purchased 5 cases of Daily Crunch.

“Produce Place will always hold a special place in my heart,” Orley says emotionally. “They were the first to believe in us. It was extra special because it was a place where I regularly shopped.”

Organically, word spread and soon other local specialty stores like TurnipTruck, E+Rose and Juice Bar picked up the protein-packed snack. 

The first time founder continued to forge her own opportunities. Expo East was no exception. Hosted in Philadelphia, the three-day trade show attracts more than 1,000 vendors and 16,000 attendees each year. It’s the superbowl of the natural foods industry.

Like virtually every event in 2020, the industry expo was hosted online. 

“Everyone was waiting for buyers and distributors to reach out to them,” the entrepreneur exclaims. “I wasn’t going to wait. What’s the worst that could happen? They don’t respond or say no.”

She stayed up into the wee hours of the morning dm’ing distributors, buyers and editors. 

“It wasn’t a copy and paste paragraph,” laughs Orley. “I tailored each message to the recipient.”

Her pull no punches approach was effective. 

She struck a deal with CVS. The drugstore picked her product up in 300 of its stores, and after a year of healthy sales, they asked to expand the relationship and carry Daily Crunch in all 3,000 of its locations.

Another message caught the eye of Good Housekeeping’s nutrition editor. She solicited a sample. Needless to say, it passed the taste test. Daily Crunch made the magazine’s Best Healthy Snacks list that year and every year since.

“We’re calling sprouted nuts are the next big thing.”-Good Housekeeping

“You are your best advocate,” Orley says. “No one will hustle harder or sell your story like you.”

The new year brought new business and new flavors.

In March 2021, Daily Crunch made a deal with Meijer. Landing the midwestern supermarket was a big deal. It was the company’s first big box grocery store. The Michigan based-brand has 130 locations spread across six states. Daily Crunch is in all of them.

“It was a pinch me moment,” says the CEO. 

In June, M'Kenzie  Steel joined the team as Daily Crunch’s Director of Marketing. The Vanderbilt MBA student was no stranger to the company. She had interned for Daily Crunch  the 12 months leading up to the offer.

“She turned down an offer to go work for Mattel,” says Orley gratefully. “I am so humbled that she chose to come on board as our Marketing Director and has since been promoted to our Head of Marketing.”

The Nashville nut company more than quadrupled its sales that year —  selling 180,000 bags of its satiating snacks. It also added Cacao Seal Salt and Turmeric Sea Salt varieties to its trio of founding flavors — original, Cherry Berry and Coconut Coffee.

Things only continued to heat up. In 2022, Daily Crunch tripled its sales and introduced its Nashville Hot almonds. The bite sized bombs of flavor became a bestseller. 

But this year got a little sour. Daily Crunch added a Dill Pickle flavor. With their tangy seasoning and audible snap, the almonds are an honest substitute for the old timely potato chip. It’s no wonder why Wegmans, The Giant Company and Fresh Thyme joined the Daily Crunch family and add the savory snacks to its aisles.

“We’re on track to sell a million bags of Daily Crunch  by the end of 2023,” says Orley,” We expect to launch in 1,000 new locations in Q1.” 

Not all sweet

The journey hasn’t been entirely sweet. Orley experienced rejection regularly — sometimes from the same buyer. But “no” only motivated the mompreneur.  

Thrive, an organic, online grocery store, rejected Daily Crunch not once, not twice, but three times before adding the almonds to its digital aisles. In early 2022, Orley offered the e-commerce company a 60-day exclusive on a new flavor — Nashville Hot. Thrive’s buyer bit.

“Nashville and hot chicken are synonymous,” she says. “Thrive pride themselves on investing in interesting products with a story.”

The spicy snacks were a hit with the company’s health conscious consumers. Today, Thrive sells all 10 types of Daily Crunch.

Erewhon also passed on the almonds — initially. Orley approached the upscale outfit four times before she broke in.

“If you have a natural foods product you need to be in Erewhon — it opens doors,” she says. “Buyers, distributors, celebrities all shop there. Products are given instant credibility.”

Daily Crunch Instagram

Growing the business

Orley isn’t just after Emerald or Planters or Blue Diamond. She’s wants to take a crack at the chip industry. She believes Daily Crunch can satisfy the crunchy craving of chip lovers. It isn't as far-fetched as it sounds.

Studies show texture influences snack choice as much taste. People are either chewers, crunchers or smooshers. While the lion's share of consumers are chewers (43%) — preferring the prolonged chew of say a cookie, the number of crunchers (33%) — those who favor the sound and force of a bite —  is increasing at a much faster rate. Food psychologists say crunching is a coping mechanism — a way to address anxiety.

“How you feel and what you eat go hand and hand,” says Orley. 

Daily Crunch donates a percentage of profits of its original almonds to The Support Network, a non-profit started by her Aunt Diane, who lost her 20-year old son to suicide in 2013. The organization partners with universities to provide mental health resources on campuses.

Share

“Being able to support a cause so near and dear to our hearts has been one of the most rewarding parts of this business,” says Orley. “That and seeing how my family and friends have embraced me and my co-founders on this journey.”

Her kids have taken an interest in the so-called CPG industry. To them, trade show maps are Toys-R-Us Christmas catalogs. Before each expo, they research registered vendors and write “wish lists”.

Share

“They know more than most adults,” she says.

Her children weren’t always enthused. In the beginning, her son wouldn’t wear anything with Daily Crunch’s logo. That all changed when his mom met Jason Momoa. The Aquaman actor was at one of the trade shows Orley attended.

“He’s (her son) a huge fan,” she laughs. “I asked Jason if he would sign one of our ball caps for him. He wore it every day for a long time.”

Expanding the crunchy kingdom

Daily Crunch is eager to expand its crunchy kingdom and break into new retailers. According to Orley, Target has already approached them with for 2024 consideration. However, hitting the bullseye isn’t as simple as just saying yes.

“We can’t execute that order or other national orders without funding,” explains Orley. “It’s really expensive. You have to pay for promos, displays, samples, the product itself and often a shelving cost upwards to sometimes $150,000 per flavor. “

Daily Crunch is raising a Series A round to support its scaling efforts. Orley expects to close the $4 million fundraise sometime in March.

Share

An east Nashville office is in need of a waiting room. Switchyards, an Atlanta-based co-working brand, is scrambling to find space after “accidentally overselling” memberships for its Nashville location that opened last month.

The flex office space, which is housed inside an 8,000 square-foot century old church in east Nashville on Chapel Avenue, announced it would offer 500 founding memberships at $100/month in mid-July.

But a month after launching an aggressive Instagram ad campaign, Switchyards slashed the price of its monthly membership for what was supposed to be 250 spots.

It was a first for the office space operator. Switchyards didn’t discount memberships when it opened its nine other locations.

Were they struggling to sell memberships in a new market? CEO Michael Tavani claims that wasn’t the case.

“We wanted to create a buzz,” he tells Tennbeat. “It's our first location outside of Atlanta and our 10th total. We wanted it to be special.”

The bargain basement price created a buzz — and a problem. According to an email sent to waitlisters, the company sold 758 memberships — 508 more than they intended — at the $50 promotional price. 

Share

“We had 250 Memberships, but by the time we were able to pause sales in our stem, 758 had been purchased,” the company wrote in the email. “We planned for a number of scenarios, but not one where this many memberships would sell in a matter of seconds.”

Tavani dismisses the idea that there was any sort of software problem. Was it a marketing ploy, a sort of bait and wait? He insists that wasn’t it either. However, he doesn’t offer much explanation for how the “overselling” occurred.

Switchyards will honor the $50 promotion price for waitlisters when it opens its second Nashville location. But when is “when”? Tavani couldn’t offer an exact answer — only that his team is actively looking for the right lease.

“Our real estate team is laser focused on finding space,” he says. “We’re not just going to open one more, but two more in Nashville.”

The peachtree company already had plans to expand in Nashville prior to the membership mishap. It simply “expedited the timeline.” 

Tavani says they will stay in east Nashville for their second location. However, they’ll likely head over to Wedgewood-Houston or West Nashville for their third.

“Now, when people go on our site to sign up for our Nashville waitlist, we’re asking them what area they want us to be in,” he tells Tennbeat. “We are going to use that data to help determine our third. We’ve received a lot of interest in those areas.”

Switchyards has just over a 1,000 people on its Nashville waitlist — including the 508 from the August offer.

The two slated spaces, Tavani mentioned, will be quite a bit smaller than the re-adapted chapel he dubs the “Nashville flagship”.

“Nashville is our largest location,” exclaims Tavani. “Most of our other locations are between 2,000 to 4,000 square feet. ”

Share

He declined to disclose how many memberships the company will sell or if they'll offer fewer at each location — since the spaces will be smaller.

What’s the allure?

Why are Nashvillians clamoring to be a part of this co-working club? 

There’s no shortage of alternative workspaces in Nashville. People can pick whatever panache they prefer — whether that’s women-only, targeted towards tech workers, or caters to creatives, there’s ample alternate workspace options to choose from, but they aren’t all 100% occupied. They don’t have four-figure long waitlists.

Could it be the cost? Sure, the $50/month promo price is certainly a rate to write down. There isn’t a cheaper flex office option in town. 

$100/month — Switchyard’s standard rate — sounds like a steal, but in reality, the rate isn’t revolutionary. There are several comparable co-working options — offering 24/7 access and free coffee. $100 at the Nashville Entrepreneur Center gets you that plus a PO box.

Perhaps, it's the anthropologie-esque aesthetic? It's a stark contrast to the cold, often clinical design donned by most satellite spaces.

All of these attributes add to the overall allure, but they aren’t what sell Switchyards. The club’s unorthodox appeal is rooted in convenience.

Share

Convenience

Most mainstream flex office operators set up shop in central business districts — where commutes are often 20 to 30 minutes one-way. According to a 2021 Costar report, WeWork members commute an average of 26 minutes one way.

Meanwhile, Switchyards selects sites in neighborhoods adjacent to urban cores — where potential members live and commutes are often under 15 minutes, if not walkable or bikeable. 

“It’s convenient,” says Patrick Cason, a tech founder and Nashville Switchyards member. 

John Stamps agrees. The location allows the 31-year-old entrepreneur and east Nashville resident to toggle between work and home.

“It’s close, he says. “I can roll out of bed and be there in a couple minutes. I don’t think twice about running home for lunch.”

Short commutes aren't the only convenience driving demand. Unlike WeWork where parking is a pain or not offered (50% of locations don’t offer on site parking) parking at Switchyards is simple thanks to on-site, surface lots with unassigned spots.

“It’s easy to get in and out of,” says 34-year old Kelley Griggs, a tech founder and busy mom of two. “You don’t have to worry about finding a spot or remembering to validate a ticket.”

Share

The Investment Math: 

Switchyards raised a $3.4 million seed round in March and has opened five  new locations this year, including Nashville.

Some investors may be scratching their head wondering why anyone would put capital into a coworking company. After all, WeWork didn’t work out too well. 

But the math works out, if a few variables are switched. 

Variable 1: Location

Like Wework, Switchyards leases most of its locations. The Atlanta outlet only owns one of its buildings. But unlike Wework who pays a premium in rent, Switchyards pays a pittance.

Whereas WeWork hunts for high rises in downtown areas, where rent is notoriously expensive, Switchyard’s searches for avante-garde space — like the old chapel — in areas where rent is reasonable.

But rent isn’t the most salient variable Switchyard’s model swaps. Amenities — or rather its lack thereof — are what really solves the profit problem WeWork encountered.

Variable 2: Amenities

Wework has more amenities than a Hilton hotel. Each location has a full-kitchen and a myriad of meeting rooms — most have gyms, many have pools and some even have high-end golf simulators.

Amenities require maintenance. Maintenance means money. Kitchens need to be cleaned. Pools and hot tubs have to be treated. Gym equipment— bound to break — has to be serviced and often replaced.

Switchyards saves money by ixnaying expensive amenities altogether, and only offering one membership. There are no gyms, no pools, no kitchens, not even a microwave — just coffee. No amenities, no pricey problems. 

The absence of amenities makes it easy and less expensive to manage. It’s not necessary to have a warm body in the building 24/7 like it is at WeWork. A single employee or as Switchyard calls them “community managers” can run several sites in a single city.

The outfit doesn’t offer designated desks, private offices or tech packages. There’s no customizable menu of memberships. It’s a simple, one-size fits all offer — $100 month-to-month, cancel anytime. 

With a single tier, tours are short and decisions don’t take long. Designated leasing agents aren’t needed to explain or upsell options. In the event someone cancels a membership, there’s a warm waitlist of entrepreneurs all eager for the same offer.

She’s been called loud— cue the clip of her calling for Glenn Casada to resign — a “limousine liberal” — pull the private school pictures — and a drama queen — press play on one of her many parodies of former Tennessee state house finance chair Rep. Diane Black.

But now, Aftyn Behn deserves a new nickname: “The AOC of Tennessee.” Tomorrow, the outspoken activist will be sworn into the Tennessee State House of Representatives. 

The anti establishment upstart cinched the District 51 seat in September, earning 81-percent of the vote in the deep blue district which includes parts of East Nashville, Madison, Downtown and Donelson.

Share

Like the New York congresswoman, Behn, a progressive community organizer, ran a grassroots campaign to pull off an impressive and unexpected primary upset in August, before trouncing Republican David Hooven in the general election. She represents a new vision of the Democratic party and threatens the status quo.

 “I knew that it was long odds, and I knew that it was uphill, but I always knew it was possible,” says Behn, who will be the first woman to hold the district’s seat in more than 50 years.

“Aftyn inspires me and gives me hope for what is possible in our state. Her energy and expertise is desperately needed in the legislature as we face relentless attacks on our civil liberties and democratic values,” says Anna Walton, a fellow staff member at the Tennessee Justice Center, where Behn worked as a community organizer from 2017 to 2018. 

Once sworn in, 33-year-old Behn will be the youngest sitting female member of the Tennessee State House of Representatives and the only woman representing Nashville. 

“This was a win for women,” says Francie Hunt, Executive Director of Tennessee advocates for Planned Parenthood. “Tennessee has one of the most restrictive abortion bans in the country. It’s one of the many consequences of inadequate female representation.”

Women comprise just 12% of the Tennessee House of Representatives. The only state house with less female representation is West Virginia (11%). Of the 11 women in the Tennessee House only two are democrats: Rep. Gloria Johnson (D-Knoxville) and Rep. Karen Camper (D-Memphis).

Share

The progressive pledges to work tirelessly to overturn the draconian laws and expand access to reproductive healthcare.

“Aftyn’s core team was all women,” says campaign director, Kate Briefs. “She’s someone who practices what she preaches. She knows representation matters.”

Upsetting the establishment: The Democratic primary election

Despite the historic primary upset she pulled off weeks ago, Behn’s race received little attention up until election day. She says, keenly self aware, “People didn’t take me seriously.”

Her opponent, Anthony Davis had the clear upper hand. The East Nashville Beer Works owner, was appointed to by the Metro Council to serve as the interim representative for District 51, after the sudden passing of Rep. Bill Beck (D-Nashville) in June. Davis served as Beck’s finance chair for several years and up until his death. Before that, he held the District 7 — which encompasses much of the District 51 state house district — Metro Council seat for eight years (2011-2019).

The 43-year-old received support from many Democratic power players, as well as key groups such as RPAC, Tennessee Highway Contractors, Tennessee Professional Firefighters and Tennessee Radiologists.

Even after the 5’3 firecracker defeated Davis, Democrats didn’t rush to rally support for her. The caucus waited until Tuesday, September 12th, two days before the general election to endorse Behn.

Behn says, in the beginning, some Democrats saw her contest as “disrespectful”. 

Though she didn’t officially announce her campaign until June 15th, news leaked of her plans amongst political circles in mid-May. The optics were “awkward.” A week before word spread of her contest, Behn met with Beck at his office. She says she scheduled the meeting to discuss the recent legislative session and the looming special session.

“Nashville has evolved and is younger and more diverse,” says Behn. “But its leadership hasn’t for a very long time. Leadership should reflect its constituents. Rep. Beck was a warm and accessible Representative. He did a lot for the district’s neighborhoods during his tenure, but I didn’t feel like he represented the district’s current progressive profile.”

However, she did not express these feelings to the late legislator that day or before sharing them with others.

“I regret not being more direct and transparent about my interest in running,” says Behn. “I’ll admit when I’m wrong. I should have handled that differently.”

A defiantly different campaign

Her campaign was defiantly different from Davis’s. He campaigned for the classes. She canvassed for the masses.

“He called a list of heavy hitters,” says Behn. “We knocked nearly 8,000 doors and sent over 30,000 texts that first week and asked voters what they cared about.”

Davis raised just over $77,047 from party powerhouses including former Mayor Megan Barry, real estate titans Bill Freeman and Mark Deutschmann, attorney Charles Bone and Micaela Reed, wife of Titans’ lobbyists Sam Reed.

Though she did not receive backing from the establishment, Behn managed to raise $50,156. Most of her donations came from individuals across Tennessee from her grassroots organizing network. Her average donation was $256 — a fourth of the size of Davis’s.

Behn is complimentary of Davis, who called and conceded to his junior opponent on election night when defeat became evident.

“There is no ill will between Anthony and I,” says Behn. “I respect him and his service to our community. In the end, we were just two different candidates with two different visions.”

To any Democrats still doubting her ability to succeed within the Republican supermajority, she says, “Why do you want a young, progressive woman to fail? Maybe your time is better spent supporting me and the movement I’ve built instead of trying to primary me next year.”

Tennessee politics are Hotel California

It’s hard to believe that nine months ago, Behn says she considered washing her hands of her involvement in the legislature.

“Tennessee politics is like Hotel California,” laughs Behn. “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

On March 27 tragedy struck. Three nine-year-old children and three adults at Covenant Christian — a private Presbyterian grade school in Nashville’s affluent Green Hills area — were gunned down by a 28-year-old transgender man.

Behn has been a fierce advocate for the LGBTQIA community for years. Her long-term partner has a trans-teen son. 

“The shooting happened on a Monday and Trans Day of Visibility was on Friday,” says Behn. “We had rallies and parades planned, but none of that could happen. Members of the trans community were being bombarded with death threats and blasted by trolls on social media.”

That was Monday. The following Thursday Republicans proposed a resolution to expel three democrats, now dubbed “The Tennessee Three” — Rep. Justin Jones (D-Nashville), Justin Pearson (D-Memphis), and Rep. Gloria Johnson (D-Knoxville) after they joined protesters demanding stricter gun laws. The Republican ruled House voted on the resolution and Rep. Jones and Pearson were expelled.

With democracy under attack, the seasoned organizer sprung into action. She helped orchestrate the historic, week-long protest at the legislature. 

Community Organizing

The Knoxville native got her first taste of politics in Texas. During her senior year at the University of Texas she interned at the Arc of Texas, a nonprofit dedicated to improving the lives of persons with disabilities. The psychology major developed talking points on disability policies for the state legislature. She graduated in May 2008. 

That summer she “knocked her first door” as a part-time, paid canvasser, making a whopping $10 an hour, for United States Representative Lloyd Doggett. 

“I hated it,” laughs Behn. “But you know…if you can canvass in the Texas summer heat, you can do just about anything.”

Behn would go on to work several clinical psychology roles, before heading back to the University of Texas to pursue a Masters in Social Work. Juggling multiple low-wage jobs, the two-year program would take her three years to complete.

In August 2014, 18-year-old Mike Brown was shot and killed by a police officer in Ferguson, Missouri. Protests and riots rung out across the country.

The grad student was rocked by the event. Chris, a 20-year-old, black, male receiving assistance from the transitional housing unit, where Behn worked was too. He told her he didn’t expect to live to see 21. A week later, he was shot and killed.

Behn turned her outrage into activism. She immersed herself in Austin’s Black Lives Matter movement.

Share

Two years and 6,000 miles later, she found herself in the midst of another historic humanitarian event  — the Mediterranean Refugee Crisis. In 2016, more than 33,000 asylum seekers and over 73,000 refugees from war-torn countries such as Libya, Iran and Syria fled to Europe. Her final semester, she was selected for a 6-month internship in Geneva, Switzerland with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. She was tasked with developing specialized materials and policies for LGBTQIA refugees. At the end of her internship, she was hired as a consultant by the same department.

While in Switzerland, Behn cast her vote for Hillary Clinton.

“I remember going to the Post Office and mailing off my absentee ballot for Hillary,” says Behn. “I really felt like my vote mattered.”

Like many, Behn was stunned when she woke on Nov 5, 2016. 

Return to the Volunteer State

Hillary’s defeat devastated the Texas alum. It also inspired her. After 8 years away, in November 2016, Behn headed home. She planned to get involved in politics.

“I thought if I wanted to effect real change, Tennessee was the place,” Behn says. “I still believe that.”

She laughs, as she recalls “breaking the news” of this new professional pursuit to her parents. Upset, the two recounted the sacrifices they made for her education and travel opportunities — only for her to return to East Tennessee. 

Eager to get involved, Behn reached out to Rep. Gloria Johnson. The Democratic incumbent had just lost her reelection bid. Johnson, who would run again and win in 2018, would become a mentor, close friend and the only caucus member to endorse Behn in the Democratic primary. The female legislator suggested she apply for an open community organizing position at the Tennessee Justice Center. Behn interviewed and got the job. 

Tennessee politics

In February 2017, she reported to work. Her first task: Assisting Marvin Berry, a paraplegic and Tennessee Justice Center client, to Trump’s first Nashville event as president.

“He wanted to go, check it out and advocate for Medicaid, and I thought this would be an experience I’d remember forever,” exclaims Behn. “...and it was.”

The disgraced former president would occupy much of Behn’s time at the TJC. She was responsible for drawing attention to the sweeping cuts he made to the Affordable Care Act and Medicaid.

“Rural residents didn’t realize the Republicans in power — on the national and on the state level — were the ones responsible,” says Behn. “They didn’t know about the Trump tax cuts or our state legislature’s decision to veto additional Medicaid funding.”

Share

Draw attention Behn did. She trekked across Tennessee in her Toyota Yaris with a 7-foot-coffin hanging out the hatchback. Outfitted in grim reaper garb, Behn stood behind the wooden casket at rural rallies. The spectacle, she says, symbolized the lives lost due to Tennessee’s decision not to expand Medicaid. 

The coffin wasn’t her only theatrical display on the issue. Behn once pulled a group of frustrated farmers in the back of a flatbed trailer through downtown Nashville. The passengers were protesting Republicans’ rejection of the Medicaid match program. It’s the only record of Behn supporting transpotainment.

But if Behn were nominated for an Oscar, it wouldn’t be for her role in Tennessee’s  Medicaid madness, but likely for her attacks on former House Finance Chair, Rep. Diane. Black. The Sumner County Republican — who resides in an $11.5 million, 20,000+ square-foot mansion on Old Hickory Lake and has a networth north of $140 million — proposed billions of dollars in budget cuts to Medicare and Medicaid, food stamps, pension plans, as well as education programs.

Elite and out of touch, the parallels between Black, and Marie Antoinnette — the French monarch who famously replied, “Let them eat cake”, when she was told her subjects were starving during the Bread Famine — were uncanny, according to Behn. She spelled out the similarities in a series of Letters to the Editor, aptly titled: “Let them eat cake.” Rural residents across the state submitted the ghost written op-eds to local newspapers on Behn’s behalf. 

The newspapers were child’s play, compared to the costume to come. Black announced her gubernatorial bid in late 2017, and Behn committed to the “Dianatonnete” character she created. Wherever Black went, Behn went — dressed as “Diantoinette”, wearing a two foot-tall, white wig and a pale pink, period dress. She adopted a heavy French accent and ridiculed the Republican candidate at campaign stops across the state. It was important, she says, voters know how removed the representative was from reality. Black finished third in the 2018 Republican primary. Behn attributes her activism to Diane’s departure from politics.

As for the Marie Antoinette outfit, it’s currently catching dust in her closet. She’s patiently waiting for the perfect moment to resurrect it and all its glory.

“Maybe I’ll organize a drag show to raise money for trans kids on Broadway,” she winks, “It's now in the heart of my district.”

In 2018, Behn was recruited by Indivisible — a national political organization that arose out of the Trump election — to campaign across the state for former Democratic governor and then-senate candidate Phil Bredesen. That same year, the then 27-year-old, began organizing with one of the famed members of the Tennessee Three, Rep. Justin Jones, through the Moral Movement.

“2018 was a hell of a year,” says Behn, who also led efforts for Enough is Enough  — a sub-group of the national PAC which aims to remove politicians who have sexually assaulted women — here in Tennessee. The group was out to oust Rep. David Byrd (R-Waynesboro). Three of the high school basketball coach’s former players accused him of sexual assault. 

That year she would also work on Rep. Gloria Johnson’s campaign and deep canvass for Tennessee Immigrant Refugee Rights Coalition, better known as TIRCC and Planned Parenthood.

The years following would be just as action packed for Behn thanks to now indicted, former state house Rep. Glenn Casada (D-Franklin), the overturning of Roe vs. Wade and Tennessee’s trigger ban, a sleepover at the capitol and an arrest.

“Just when you think Tennessee politics can’t get worse it does,” says Behn. “That’s what I learned over the years. But I’m more hopeful now than ever.”

Raised to resist

The Knoxville native credits her ideology to her upbringing. On paper her parents wouldn’t appear to be progressive. Her dad, now an administrator at the University of Tennessee, was an accounting professor and her mom, a homemaker. 

“My mother is a recovering Jehovah’s witness who is still working on unlearning the anti-woman beliefs of the religion” says Behn. “She has always encouraged my brother and I to speak up and speak out.”

Share

She laughs, “Although, being a grassroots organizer, I’m glad door knocking is in my DNA.”

As for her father, Behn says, he’s a true academic, who valued education and encouraged her to challenge the status quo.

Behn also attributes her progressive politics to Dr. Mark Banker, her high school history teacher. He introduced Behn to the ugly, exploitative politics that have plagued Southern Appalachia for decades.

Her senior year, Banker took Behn’s class on a field trip to the Clear Fork Valley, an old coal mining town located an hour north of Knoxville. Students saw firsthand the impact of predatory corporations and the corrupt politicians who kowtow to them. 

The rural community was left crippled, after coal companies abandoned the area without reclaiming the land. Waterways, filled with fish fifty years ago, are barely even creeks. Methane gas from abandoned mines wreak havoc on residents’ health. Heart disease, cancer and a range of respiratory illnesses run rampant.

It was also Baker who first exposed Behn to rural organizing.

“He planted the seed,” says Behn, who also attributes her success to Tequila Johson, Senator Charlane Oliver, former SEIU political director Jason Freeman, Planned Parenthood’s Francie Hunt. “I think the best organizers come from Tennessee, and I’ve been blessed to have so many mentors and friends in this movement.”

Bipartisan record

Challenging the status quo won her the nickname of “woke” among Republican naysayers. But Behn insists, she will work across the aisle to pass bipartisan legislation. 

She points to her work with Southern Connected Communities Project, an organization that seeks to expand broadband access in the Clear Fork Valley. Behn has served on the steering committee of the group for six years.

Just last year, RuralOrganizing.org — the organization Behn currently works for — helped pass a major piece of federal legislation called RECOMPETE that provides block grants to distressed rural communities. Staunch Republican Joni Ernst from Iowa was a cosponsor.

The pugnacious politician also plans to lead the vanguard on abolishing Tennessee’s grocery tax. 

“Cheap internet and groceries are kitchen table issues,” she exclaims.” I’m sure there are some Republicans who believe in making life more affordable for their constituents.”

Playing the long game

She knows none of this will happen overnight. That’s why she says she intends to be in  the legislature for “at least 10 years”.

“I want to be around long enough to witness the impact,” says Behn, who is laser focused on turning Tennessee’s red tide blue.

Setting out to sever the supermajority 

She plans to partner with progressive groups like the SEIU and the Nashville Justice League — a local PAC formed in 2019 by the Central Labor Council of Middle Tennessee, TIRCC Votes, and the Equity Alliance Fund — to push polls, host town halls and ultimately place progressive candidates in positions of power.

She argues these organizations and their efforts have already proven effective. Last month in a runoff election, four females — three endorsed by SEIU and NJL — swept the at-large metro council seats. 

“You see, we’ve been spending years bringing our vision of a better Tennessee to life--- it’s not sexy work, but what we’re doing will eventually be a playbook for turning red states around. ”

The far-left phenom is also excited to work alongside Charles Uffleman. Behn says she and the newly hired Democratic Caucus Director will coordinate a statewide campaign to flip seats and sever the Republican supermajority.

 “Chas and I go way back organizing in the Hollers,” she tells tennbeat. “You couldn’t have two more seasoned professionals at the helm ahead of 2024.”

Share

Behind Behn’s aggressive exterior is an 11 year old girl, inspired by the stories of strong women who came before her. She pulls out a photo. It’s her — standing proudly beside a poster at her 5th grade social studies fair. The subject? Tennessee’s role in the suffrage movement.

“They won the right to vote, and I won the fair,” smiles Behn. “But we still have a ways to go.”

What would she tell her younger self? She quotes AOC, “They'll tell you you're too loud - that you need to wait your turn; and ask the right people for permission. Do it anyway.”

Share

To most, hummus is a snack that pairs well with pita chips, but to Java Hemmat, the protein rich puree is much more. It’s the American Dream.

The 43-year-old UAE immigrant has spent the last 11 years building her brand — Hummus Chick. Today, her hard work lines the refrigerated shelves of Whole Foods, Kroger and 300 other grocery stores and eateries.

Hemmat’s journey has been far from smooth. Like many immigrant entrepreneurs, she struggled to make ends meet, juggled multiple jobs and slept seldom in the early days of her endeavor.

Share

Coming to America

20-year-old Java left the UAE and made her way to Murfreesboro in 1998 to attend Middle Tennessee State University. Two months into her school year, Hemmat says, she began to feel fatigued. 

“I felt like my energy was zapped,” says Hemmat. “I experienced brain fog for the first time in my life.”

The freshman realized it was the food. She was consuming cafeteria food full of fat, oil and enough sodium to shrink a snail. 

“I didn’t have any other choice,” says Hemmat. “My dorm didn’t have a kitchen and I didn’t have a car to go get groceries. Fresh foods weren’t accessible like they are now.”

In May, Hemmat headed home for summer break. She took the time to learn how to cook. The soon-to-be-sophomore would be living in an apartment off campus in the fall and planned on making most of her meals at home. 

Hemmat became her mother’s sous chef, assisting and watching closely over her shoulder as she prepared food for the family.

Share

The hobby is born

Hemmat returned to MTSU. She put what she learned into practice. During the week, the business major was a regular Rachel Ray and was whipping up “quick, nutritious” 30 minute meals. But on the weekends, she experimented with new recipes. Her roommates were the guinea pigs.

“This was way before TikTok, Instagram or even online recipes,” says Hemmat.

She relied on old-fashioned, physical cookbooks and handwritten recipes faxed from her mom, who often mailed her hard-to-find spices like tamarind, saffron and mint to make middle-eastern dishes. 

“Cooking became a hobby and entertaining became an escape,” says Hemmat. “Through food, I forged friendships and made memories that will last lifetime.”

In the fall of 2001, Java made hummus for one of her feasts. The traditional middle-eastern appetizer, a concoction of chickpeas, spices and oil, was foreign to her friends. Only one had ever even heard of hummus.

“Hummus didn’t become mainstream until about 2015,” says Hemmat. 

She served the savory starter with homemade pita bread. The response was overwhelming. Her guests requested that hummus become a regular in the dinner rotation.

Hemmat graduated in 2002 and took a job with Enterprise Rent A Car. She quickly climbed the company ladder and became the Manager of the Charlotte Pike location.

The financial crisis brought Hemmat’s career to a screeching halt. The 31-year-old was laid off in February 2009.

Rocked by the recession layoff, Java says she sought out a more stable profession: medicine. That meant going to grad school. She began pursuing a Masters in Chemistry at MTSU. The program would prepare her for the MCAT.

Share

Soul search

Two years into her studies, Hemmat went through a mid-masters crisis. She questioned if a career in medicine was really going to make her happy. In the summer of 2011, the 33-year-old grad student packed her suitcase and set out on a soul search in Laguna, California.

Sitting on a surfboard, she thought about how to blend her business background and the memories she made cooking for her friends at MTSU. It hit her: Hummus Chick. 

Hemmat hurried back to the hotel and put her ideas on paper. On a yellow legal pad, she scribbled down three things:

1.  Hummus Chick- The name of her company

2.  Flavors- Roasted Garlic & Cilantro, Original, Smokey Chipotle

3.  Stores- Whole Foods and Kroger 

Hemmat didn’t waste any time. The morning after she touched down in Tennessee, she drove to the county clerk’s office to purchase a business license.

“I had exactly $40 in my checking account,” she says. “A business license was $35.”

The sunburnt, aspiring entrepreneur, headed to her shift Starbucks. She proudly paraded the piece of paper around to her fellow baristas, who became her first customers, ordering 6 containers of hummus on the spot.

Share

Creating a commercial product

But it would be almost a year before Hemmat sold another container. If she wanted to sell her creamy concoction in farmers markets, festivals or grocery stores she would have to create a proper commercial product.

“There are strict food preparation rules and specific labeling and packaging standards,” says Hemmat.

Commercializing a consumer packaged product is costly and time consuming. It’s even more costly and time consuming when you’re an immigrant. 

On average, people spend $33,547 to create a consumer packaged product. This includes commercial kitchen fees, packaging, machinery and ingredients.

Juggling two full time jobs, Hemmat had little time, and with $350/hour immigration attorney fees even less money. She was still trying to become a citizen.

“Nannying paid for me to live and Starbucks essentially paid my attorney,” Java says. “I remember I only made $15,000 that year.”

But Hemmat hustled, and made it happen.

First farmers market

In May 2012, she set up shop at her first outdoor market: the Richland Farmers Market. She was selling the 8 oz containers for $6. 

Many at the market had never heard of hummus, and, “...if they had…it was a family member who had gone to Israel”. Hemmat offered samples of her spread with carrots and crackers. Customers clamored and cleaned her out of the 30 containers she brought within the first hour of the three hour market. 

The following Saturday she doubled the amount of dip. She thought 60 containers would surely suffice. She was wrong. Her coolers were empty within an hour-and-a-half.

Hemmat nannied until 6:00 p.m. each day. From the family’s home, Hemmat headed to Mesa Kemal — a commercial kitchen for immigrant entrepreneurs — to make her hummus for the weekend markets. 

“Hummus Chick wouldn’t have been possible without Mesa Kemal,” says Hemmat, “At the time most commercial kitchens were charging $25/hour, I was spending 8-9 hours, 3 days a week making hummus. That would have been $2,400 a month. I couldn’t afford that. Mesa was a flat fee of $350 a month.”

She worked into the wee morning hours. Often leaving at 2 or 3 a.m. Most days she says may have slept 3 or 4 hours, before heading to her babysitting job.

By the end of 2013, Hemmat was hawking her hummus at 5 Nashville farmers markets: Richland, Donelson, 12th South, and two on West End.

2014 was a pivotal year for Hemmat. She traded her daytime babysitting gig for an overnight one. This allowed her to spend more time on her business during daylight hours. 

“It was important that I could call and meet with potential clients — grocery stores, coffee shops, juice bars, etc when they were open,” says Hemmat.

She also called Starbucks quits. No more making macchiatos. She became the manager of Mesa Kemal’s kitchen. After all, when she wasn’t making sales calls, she was making hummus. A lot of hummus. Each week, Hemmat says, she would prepare anywhere from 100 - 200 pounds of hummus.

Whole Foods

Word spread and soon everyone had heard about the “hummus chick” including the local liaison for Whole Foods local program. The representative approached Hemmat at the 12th South Farmers Market and asked if she would be interested in learning about the program.

“I wasn’t going to wait for a meeting,” says Hemmat. 

She showed up at the Hillsboro Whole Foods the very next day. She agreed on the spot to a deal, but like any good thing, it took time and “a lot of paperwork”.

Hemmat had to edit her containers to adhere to the Amazon-owned store’s specific standards. A year after that initial meeting, in December 2015,  her middle eastern mash made it on the refrigerated shelves at the location in Hill Center. It was opportune timing. Hummus was taking the snack scene by storm. Sabra, which is owned by Pepsi, made the protein-rich puree mainstream. Peppers, pretzels, pita chips…people started to dip everything in the cool, creamy condiment. 

By 2016, she had placed her product on the shelves of more than 50 different retailers  and in the coolers of 100 cafes.

Share

Hauling hummus in the Honda

Hemmat had another big break. Her hummus was selling so well that Whole Foods asked to carry it in its Atlanta locations. 

There was only one problem. She didn’t have distribution. 

But Hemmat was hungry to succeed, and would do whatever it took, including delivering it herself. Every Wednesday, she would wake at 2:00 a.m. and haul her hummus to Atlanta. She crammed coolers into the back of her Honda civic and made the 3.5 hour trek. 

Hemmat hung up her delivery hat in the fall of 2020. She finally had distribution. She needed it now more than ever. Whole Foods wanted her hummus in California, Kansas and Texas locations.

A new obstacle arose during this time: Covid. Costs increased across the board in almost every industry. Hemmat’s hummus was not immune. She says her costs increased 34-percent in 2021. Hemmat had no other choice but to increase the price of her hummus. But the price hikes didn't deter anyone. In fact, Hemmat’s sales soared 145%.

Hemmat’s success has continued and expanded beyond hummus. Hummus Chick now has a line of Mediterranean spices and offers an assortment of tahini dressings. These products haven’t made it into Whole Foods — “yet” says Java — but are available at select specialty retailers — including Turnip Truck (West, East and Gulch locations), Produce Place and Hendersonville Produce — and online.

Like her hummus, she says success is better when it's shared with others. She credits what she humbly and cleverly calls “pea-sized” achievement to those who have supported her along the way.

In the world of residential real estate, Grove Park is Hermes, and its lots are Birkin bags. Olympians, A-list actresses and C-Suite executives have all purchased parcels from the Brentwood-based developer. The lots are rare and expensive  — even more rare and expensive than the high-end handbags. Hermes constructs 12,000 Birkin bags, which start at $10,000, each year while Grove Park prepares less than 30 parcels in the same time. All are at least a million.

Share

Brandon Jenkins, the founder and CEO of Grove Park, shared the details of his latest collection of lots, a 28-acre gated community he calls ANNA, with tennbeat.

Tucked away behind a canopy of trees at Concord and Franklin Road, the cobblestone entrance to ANNA looks more like a Shakespearan village than the entrance to a southern, suburban neighborhood. 

Behind the 10-foot tall iron gates, is a secluded, oasis and seventeen, .75-acre lots, with price tags ranging from $2 to $3 million. 11 of the 17 have been spoken for.

Design Requirements

For the average person, an entrance to their driveway is an afterthought — if ever a thought at all, but in the extravagance that is ANNA every resident will be required to have a 8-foot-tall, 20-foot-wide cobblestone entrance with a Vanderbilt top cast. The glassy finish will highlight the unique hues and textures of each natural rock.

Driveways

Even the driveways will go the extra mile. Accented with Belgian Pave Inlays, the tar and chip paths are to look more like romantic runways than a place to park a car. 

“The Belanger inlays add to the English countryside ambiance” says Jenkins, referring to the rectangular cobblestones.

Every home will be at least 5,500 square feet with 5 bedrooms and 5 bathrooms — a four-car garage is a given.

Share

Roofs

Asphalt shingles are out of the question. The machine manufactured rectangles are eyesores, according to Jenkins.  Roofs are to be outfitted with metal, slate or cedar shingles. The materials alone will run residents anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000.

Doors and windows will be aluminum clad or steel. Wooden windows simply won’t do. And…to build a pool or to not? That’s not a question, design requirements dictate that every residence have one.

Interiors

Neither the eccentricity nor the expense will stop those steel doors. From floating staircases to five-figure lavish light fixtures, the interiors will ooze all that is over the top.

The kitchens will take cues from nature with wood and natural stone woven throughout. Each will have custom floor to ceiling cabinets, islands that could rival the Caribbean and Italian marble that would make Michaelango weep.

Share

Part pantry, part prep kitchen, part storage, all will have scullery kitchens in addition to a main kitchen. The hidden rooms, which will range anywhere from 170 to 200 square feet, will be larger than most common folk kitchens.

Internet-enabled, voice-activated “smart” devices will be embedded in many of the plans, making it possible for people to adjust their bedroom temperature, turn on the oven or order a pizza merely by speaking a command. Such state of the art features can cost up to $20,000 per room.

All of this comes at a price. The building costs for each of the mega mansions will easily exceed $6 million and some will top $10 million.

Approved Architect and Builders

Just as Hermes entrusts few artisans — 180 to be exact — to hand make its iconic bags, Grove Park has only approved a handful of architects and builders to design and erect the dwellings that will sit atop ANNA.

Of the 20 approved architects, eight have offices in Nashville, according to Jenkins.

All designs will be rigorously reviewed by an eight-person architectural committee, led by well-known Nashville architect Pferrer Torode, who is behind the blueprints of many Belle Meade residences and Audrey, a high-end Nashville restaurant led by chef Sean Brock.

6 construction firms — including Grove Park — are on the approved builders list. Jenkins declined to share the names of the approved architects or the other builders. He says Grove Park will likely build five of the seventeen homes.

Pre-development work on the exclusive enclave began last month and is expected to be completed by Christmas.

Four designs are currently under committee review. Jenkins predicts they will be approved before the new year and construction will begin on them sometime in February.

It’s often difficult for successful CEOs to see how far they’ve come. But for Rod McDaniel, it's easy. He just has to look out the window. 

Across the street from S3 Recycling’s 150,000 square-foot facility are the Robertson County Projects. The site reminds McDaniel of his childhood home, Tony Sudekem Apartments or as most in Nashville know it as “the southside projects”. His old stomping grounds are a stark contrast to his business’s balance sheet. S3, McDaniel proudly tells Tennbeat, is on track to reach eight figures in revenue this year.

The CEO credits his company’s success to hard work, a little bit of luck and his mentor, Darrell Freeman, the self-made millionaire who founded and sold Zycron — one of the  largest minority-owned IT companies in Tennessee. Freeman began mentoring McDaniel in 2016. That same year, the black business icon invested in S3 and became Chairman of the Board. Since then, the company has made the Inc 5000 list three years in a row and grown to employ 40+ people — including one of Freeman’s sons, Nathan.

McDaniel was one of many individuals Freeman mentored. When the serial entrepreneur passed away unexpectedly last June, he and others wondered who would carry on the late leader’s legacy. 

Today, they have their answer. Holly Rachel will be responsible for amplifying Freeman’s impact on minority entrepreneurs.

Share

Fisk University’s Jens Frederiksen, selected the 35-year-old entrepreneur and non-profit president to serve as the founding Executive Director of the Darrell S. Freeman Center — a nonprofit innovation center and incubator that seeks to increase the number of minority-owned STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) businesses in Middle Tennessee.

Prior to his passing, Freeman was working closely alongside Mayor John Cooper to establish the incubator for underrepresented entrepreneurs in north Nashville. In January, it was announced the center would be named in his honor. 

“Holly was a key member of the team that developed the vision for the Center and is the ideal candidate to lead this charge,” says Frederiksen, who serves as executive vice president of the university.

Share

Rachel will work from the Roland Parrish Career Center, until the $10 million renovation of Fisk University’s Burrus Hall — which will house the Freeman Center — is complete. The century-old brick building that sits on the corner of 16th Ave N and Meharry Blvd was designed and built by, McKissak and McKissak, oldest black-owned architectural firm in the country. Preliminary construction has already begun. The building is expected to be completed early next fall.

A familiar face

Rachel is a familiar face in the entrepreneurial and tech ecosystems. The Vanderbilt alum arrived on the scene two years ago, when she and Fisk University Fellow Lena Winfree chartered the local chapter of Blacks in Technology — a global organization which aims to increase the number of African Americans in tech by expanding education opportunities.

She has made major strides in a short amount of time. As president, Rachel has grown the membership of the local chapter to 750 individuals — making it the fourth largest chapter in the U.S. She and Winfree secured seven figures of funding which they have used to host a total of 34 virtual events and 15 in-person events — ranging from workshops to 100+ person hackathons to job fairs. 

Share

BIT Nashville has launched seven education programs serving underrepresented Tennesseans ranging from elementary-age to executive level. Local Tek Thrive and the Healthcare Analytics Training are the most shining examples of BIT and Rachel’s impact:

• Local Tek Thrive: BIT collaborated with Tennessee State University, to create and fund a year-long technology course for all 150 juniors at Republic High School — a north Nashville charter school whose student body is 91% non-white. Students who successfully complete the course will receive 6 credit hours of college credit from TSU — 3 hours for coding languages and 3 hours for app development — and have the opportunity to earn a Google Certification thanks to Nashville State.

• Healthcare Data Training: BIT collaborated with Nashville Software School, HCA, Dell and Next Generation Health Analytics to provide a 12-week healthcare analytics course for employees at 15 Tennessee nonprofit hospitals.

“I’ve seen firsthand how hard Holly works and the impact she is capable of making,” says Winfree. “She is the ideal leader for the Freeman Center.”

Rachel says she will not be stepping away from her position with BIT.

“There is a lot of synergy between the two,” she says. 

Bigger than black owned

Rachel is quick to point out that the Freeman Center goes beyond black-owned businesses. The incubator will break down barriers and expand opportunities for all underrepresented groups in the area — including all non-white ethnicities, women, veterans and LGBTQ+ individuals.

“Yes, we are housed at an HBCU, but this isn’t just for African Americans,” explains Rachel. “This is about all underrepresented groups.”

She says she will be reaching out to the all 11  minority chambers of commerce in Davidson County like the hispanic chamber and LGBTQ to better understand the unique needs of each of their communities. 

Share

A dearth of data

She plans to combine those conversations with data to design and develop the incubator’s programs, events and advocacy plan. However, she’ll have to gather that data first. 

While nationally, the disparities in STEM owned businesses are well documented, there is a dearth of local data, according to Rachel. She requested data from the Nashville Chamber back in January, but learned the data does not exist.

“We’re going to develop an in-depth, annual, report on minorities in STEM,” Rachel says. “This report will be comprehensive and include everything from how many and what type of stem businesses there are to what type and how much funding minority founders are receiving in Middle Tennessee.”

Increasing access to capital

Despite an influx in interest in investing in minority groups, in 2020 after the tragic killing of George Floyd, funding remains a major obstacle for minority entrepreneurs.

In 2020, the year George Floyd was murdered, Black founders got a record 16% of angel investments, up from 0.5% in 2019. However, in 2021 that figure fell to just 2%, according to research from the Angel Capital Association, which represents individuals and groups of investors. 

Share

“We have to work collectively to ensure historically marginalized people have early access to entrepreneurship pathways and funding,” says Em Wilder, the program manager for Nashville Entrepreneur Center’s Twende Program — a 9-month business accelerator for black and hispanic business owners with less than $75,000 in revenue.

“Yes, starting a business requires hard work, education and mentorship but it also requires money,” says Rachel, who intends to cultivate an investor network that will, as she plainly puts it, “write the checks.”

In the past, many minorities turned to Freeman for funding.

“Darrell put his money where his mouth was,” says McDaniel.

“He was one of the only African Americans who not only had the money to invest but would invest ,” adds Derek “Mo” Moore, a co-founder of Slim and Husky’s Beeria, a popular Nashville pizza joint.

Freeman co-invested in the purchase of the fast-casual restaurant’s first building back in 2017. The serial entrepreneur went on to invest in three other commercial buildings with the eatery’s founding trio.

Setting out to scale

Freeman was also a mentor to Moore. Up until his death, the pair spoke two-to-three times a week. Many of those conversations, Moore says, were centered around scaling Slim and Husky’s, which has grown to an impressive 11 locations spread across Nashville, Memphis, Atlanta and Sacramento. 

With Freeman out of the picture, Moore doesn’t have a clear point person or a program to help him navigate scaling.

Share

“There are a lot of great organizations and programs in town that help minorities with 101,” says Moore. “...but there isn’t  — at least that I know of — a program specifically for minority entrepreneurs trying to scale.”

Marcus Buggs seconds Moore’s sentiment. The former Buffalo Bills tight end and Vanderbilt alum runs two successful east Nashville businesses — Plane Jane, a craft cocktail bar, and Coneheads, a chicken and waffle concept. He hopes Rachel and the Freeman Center will consider creating a course for diverse founders, “trying to take their businesses to the next level.”

Both Buggs and Moore took advantage of entry-level entrepreneurial education programs when they first embarked on their journeys. Buggs participated in Corner to Corner’s 12-week course and Moore, Nashville Entrepreneurs Project In-Flight Program.

Shoes to fill

There might only be one person who can relate to Rachel: Brian Moyer. The AI Venture Studio founder understands what it means to run a large, tech non-profit and follow in Freeman’s footsteps. Moyer served as the CEO of the Greater Nashville Technology Council for six years and in December, he took Freeman’s seat on S3’s board.

Share

His advice to Rachel?

“Carry on,” says Moyer. “All your experience has brought you to this moment, and it's clear that you are the ideal candidate for this position. You have a wonderful opportunity to follow in Darrell's footsteps and make a lasting, transformative impact on Nashville's minority startup community. As you step into this new role, remember to lead with the passion we have all seen. Your leadership will inspire others to follow.”

It’s been hard for software startups to raise money. Spooked by the stock market and the highest inflation rate in 40 years, investors are tightening their purse strings. VC and angel investment have plummeted 43% year over year according to Pitchbook Data.

Despite the economic turbulence, some startups are still managing to land major investments. Foresight is one of them. 

The founders of the Nashville-based sales software told TennBeat they have closed $1.2 million of what they foresee will be a $1.5 seed round. Two Charlotte-based entities — veteran angel investor and fintech entrepreneur Don Rainey and CreativeCo, a fund with a reputation for investing in early stage subscription software companies — are leading the round.

“Foresight is a uniquely compelling and purpose-built solution for a problem that’s always existed,” says Rainey.

Share

Other investors have skin in the game including Joe Maxwell, a well-known Nashville serial entrepreneur and investor. Maxwell led the startup’s pre seed round in 2021. 

“It’s been awesome to see what Foresight has accomplished in the past two years and I’m excited to be an angel investor,” says Maxwell. “They’ve got a huge opportunity as companies everywhere are having to figure out how to grow more efficiently in this new economic climate.”

The recent raise comes six months after the startup’s CEO Sagar Shukla headed to his hometown of Charlotte to open a second office. His co-founder, Nigel Hammond remains in Nashville and will continue to grow Foresight’s original office.

Share

“We want to dominate the southeast, and now, Foresight has two founders in two of the fastest growing tech markets,” says Shukla. “It’s the perfect storm.”

Charlotte, which ranked fifth on the Wall Street Journal’s list of top tech markets, is a major finance hub and is ripe with talent from the nearby Triangle Area — Duke, NC State, UNC Chapel Hill. 

Shukla and Hammond will put the newly injected capital to work by tripling the size of their four person team, maturing their software and revving up their marketing.

The former DealCloud employees, turned entrepreneurs credit much of the success of their raise to the repositioning of their product.

Launched in 2021, the subscription based software captures and interprets insights about prospective clients. This data provides reps with “foresight” needed to tailor their meetings and pitches to each client.

Ahead of an initial meeting, sales reps create and send value assessments — digital surveys designed to identify “what he or she values.” According to Shukla, 68-percent of assessments sent to prospects are completed.

As soon as the assessment is completed, Foresight auto generates a report visualizing the pain points and opportunities in easy to read charts. Reps then configure those insights into an actionable plans.

“Assessments equal more effective meetings,” says Hammond. “In most meetings, people spend the first 15-20 minutes trying to figure out what matters to the prospect or client.  Foresight eliminates that initial dance and empowers sales teams to spend more time talking about what’s relevant to the prospect and answering questions.”

Over the last four quarters, nearly every sector has struggled to close new accounts. According to Forbes, businesses purchased half the amount of new services and products last quarter than they did a year prior. With prospects more hesitant to pull the trigger, enterprise sales teams — businesses with at least $10 million in revenue and 100 employees — have heightened their focus on retaining and upselling existing business.

Share

“Expanding a customer relationship is much more cost effective and typically easier than acquiring a new one,” says Shukla. 

According to Forbes, the cost of acquiring a new customer is five to seven times higher than retaining an existing one. Moreover, the success rate of closing a new deal is 5-20%, while upselling an existing account is anywhere from 60-70%.

“To retain and identify untapped opportunities, you’ve got to engage” says Hammond. “Here’s the problem: Historically, there hasn’t been a great vehicle to do that. It’s not practical for people to have meetings all the time. Plus, notes from zoom or in-person meetings aren’t measurable feedback. “

Hammond and Shukla realized Foresight’s value assessment was the answer.

“Companies can engage existing customers efficiently and effectively with Foresight,” says Shukla.

Instead of asking for an hour of a client's time each month for a “temperature check”, he or she can provide feedback by answering a 3-5 minute value assessment. Color-coated graphs make it easy for account managers to interpret individual client responses and for teams to track trends across all accounts. 

“90% of assessments sent to existing customers are completed,” says Hammond.

Shukla proudly tells TennBeat they’ve seen the strategy work at scale.

“In less than 2 months, we helped a publicly traded company protect $4.5 million in recurring revenue, generate $75,000 in upsells, and prevent $50,000 in churn,” says Shukla.” He declined to disclose the name of the company.

“It’s fantastic to see they’ve generated strong outcomes for clients in the short time they’ve been around,” says Rainey.

“Almost every industry is using data to make decisions,” says Hammond. “With Foresight we are empowering salespeople to harness the power of data to understand their buyer and existing customers.”

Like many of her peers, 17-year-old Maya Eckles had no plans past high school. College wasn’t something she had ever considered. The youngest of eight, no one in her family has a degree.

Pursue a career in technology? Fat chance. “The only people who I knew that were into coding were weird, white boys who play Minecraft all the time.”

But now, the normally shy student is noticeably giddy, as she talks about what university she wants to attend. She plans to major in Computer Science. 

“I was thinking about TSU, but Mrs. Winfree took us on a field trip to Vanderbilt, and now, I think I might go there instead,” exclaims Eckles with a smile a mile wide plastered across her face.

Share

No matter where she decides to attend, the high school student will have a head start. Eckles earned six hours of college credit from Tennessee State University — a Nashville HBCU — and a Google IT Certification this year. 

Maya ‘s story is one of 150 unique stories that came out of LocalTek Thrive initiative, a three year pilot program that provides technology curriculum, college credit — 3 credit hours for App Development and 3 credit hours for Coding Languages — and an industry certification to all juniors at Republic High School, a charter school located in north Nashville.

The program was developed by Blacks in Technology Nashville — a nonprofit that aims to expand tech education to minorities in the greater Nashville area. According to BIT President Holly Rachel, 91-percent of the students at Republic High School are non-white and nearly 50-percent are financially disadvantaged.

“Most of the technology curriculum on the market are focused on coding languages, but we want students to understand that there are many opportunities in the industry,” Rachel says.

Share

LocalTek and TSU collaborated on the curriculum which Rachel says was designed to be a survey of technology and included modules on coding languages, healthcare analytics, data science, website and app development and machine learning. The course was mandatory.

“If we had given students the option, very few would have enrolled,” says Lena Winfree, vice president of BIT. “We wanted to make them aware of all the opportunities out there. Many of them realized tech was a lot more than they thought.”

BIT conducted a survey with all 150 juniors at the beginning and end of the school year. In the initial survey, less than 25-percent of students were “interested in pursuing a career in technology”. Fast-forward 9 months, and more than 50-percent of the students surveyed said they were interested in pursuing a career in technology and 90-percent said they were more aware of technology careers than before.

“There isn’t a career tech doesn’t touch”

Not all students caught the coding bug, but that wasn’t the intent.

“The goal was not for every kid to say they wanted to major in Data Science or Computer Engineering,” says Winfree. “The goal was to expose students to different careers in technology and give them skills that are applicable across a wide variety of industries. There isn’t a career tech doesn’t touch.”

17-year-old Carmen Martinez who watches the hit show Selling Sunset on Netflix “all-the time” has no desire to pursue a career in technology. She aspires to be the next Heather El Moussa or as she puts it “the number one real estate agent in Nashville.” However, she will use many of the skills she learned this year in the LocalTek program to pursue her passion.

The outgoing Latina student logs into her Canva account, “I can make flyers and social media graphics for all my open houses,” she says as she shows off several of her work samples. “Plus, I’m going to need to build a website, and I’m not going to pay someone a bunch of money to make it. I can build it myself.”

Excited and not going to be outdone, Eckles interrupts and proudly pulls up the website she built for her brother’s dog breeding business. It’s impressive and easily better than 90-percent of the websites you see made by local businesses.

“My brother paid me $500 to build him a website,” she says confidently. “I’m going to be building some for some of his friends this summer too.”

“This is what it's all about," says Dr. Charles Apigian, the executive director of the Belmont Data Collaborative, a center dedicated to increasing data literacy across Belmont’s campus and solving real-world problems with data. “These students recognize that their skills can be used in a variety of careers.”

Apigian, who is also a BIT board member, organized a hackathon for all of the students in the LocalTek program. During the September hackathon the students analyzed real, historic data from AirBNB to determine what makes a Superhost. Students used the conclusions they drew from the data to advise other hosts on how to increase their rating and earn more revenue.

“Access does not always mean equitable”

It wasn’t easy to pull off this program. Rachel and Winfree struggled in the beginning to find partners willing to donate and fund the first year.

“People told us $50,000 was too much,” says Rachel. “But that money covers the curricula, dual enrollment costs, certifications, equipment and field trips for all 150 students.”

Ultimately, Dell, TSU, and Nashville State Community College stepped up to the plate and helped fund the program.

Then, there was the issue of computers. BIT was told they didn’t need to purchase computers for the students because RHS received Chromebooks for remote learning during the pandemic.

But the Chromebooks, or as Rachel refers to them “internet-enabled paperweights” weren’t cutting it. 

Share

The Chromebooks were outdated and could not handle operating multiple open source platforms concurrently — like Python and TensorFlow — which are needed to teach coding languages.

“Lena and I learned a very valuable lesson: Access does not always mean equitable.” says Rachel. “ Yes, RHS had laptops but they weren’t the same type of laptops students in Williamson County or students were given. Yes, RHS has the internet, but it was slow.”

“You can’t expect the same outcomes if access is not equitable,” adds Winfree.

The BIT executives reached out to Dell and Belmont Data Collaborative to help them remedy the situation. The two generously provided desktops for a computer lab at RHS.

BIT has secured some of the funding needed to kick off year two in August, but is looking for partners to scale the program and expand it to other local north Nashville schools like Pearl Cohen and Whites Creek — whose student populations are more than 50-percent non-white.

Share

How to get involved with BIT

• Volunteer: Sign-up to receive emails on upcoming volunteer opportunities.

• Host a field trip: If you are a Middle Tennessee tech company and would like to host RHS students for a field trip, please email Lena Winfree vp@bitnash.org or Holly Rachel pres@bitnash.org. 

• Donate: Support the LocalTek Thrive program.

From email accounts, to cell phones to search engines, Google is embedded into many of our everyday lives. It's hard to believe the multi-billion dollar, publicly-traded tech giant was once referred to as a startup. But as with most businesses, it had humble beginnings. In fact, its story features some of the tech industry’s favorite hallmarks — a garage and Stanford student founders.  

In early 2001, the students hired Eric Schmidt to help them scale. Needless to say, Schmidt was successful. Three years after the Silicon Valley vet took helm, Google IPO’d.

“We've been looking for our Eric,” Darvis co-founder and COO Jan Schlueter tells Tennbeat in an exclusive interview. “And we found him.”

Share

The Nashville-based AI and computer vision company has hired former Deutsche Bank executive Michael Dietz to serve as co-CEO alongside founding CEO Jan-Phillip Mohr. 

“Darvis has certainly sparkled, but with Michael we can truly shine,” says Mohr. “He brings an amazingly powerful network and an in-depth understanding of the compliance and regulatory frameworks we must navigate in order to scale.”

Dietz’s onboarding also included an investment in the cutting-edge company. The executives declined to disclose the exact dollar amount. However, they did reveal Darvis, which has already raised $11.7 million, will be closing on a separate seven figureround sometime in Q4.

“Michael and his investor network has already been an instrumental asset as we finalize this investment round,” says Mohr.

Dietz will call the company’s Hamburg office home base, but his new role will have him traveling to its Nashville HQ and three other offices — located in London, Pakistan and Poznan — “frequently.”

Share

Dr. Michael Dietz

The financier spent 31-years — his entire career — at the world renowned bank before parting ways in January.

“I never intended to be there as long as I was,” Dietz says. “I’m actually an engineer. I took a job there after graduation as a credit account manager and expected to stay one or two years, but the banking industry has a strong hold on people.”

Dietz holds two engineering degrees — an Industrial and Mechanical — from Technical University of Darmstadt, a prestigious engineering institution known for its application-oriented approach. Schlueter likens it to, “the MIT of Germany.”

During his tenure at Deutsche, Dietz held a total of six titles, four of those titles were executive titles — Global Head of Trade Finance Flow, Head of Corporate Banking for Switzerland, Head of Corporate Banking for Western Germany and Head of Corporate Banking for Auto Group and Industrials America.

“We know that if we want more USPSs, more Airbus’s, more Bosch’s, more University of Miami’s compliance is key,” explains Schlueter. “There is no one better to help us navigat that than Michael.”

“I’m excited to bring my corporate expertise to such a profound and exciting entrepreneurial endeavor,” Dietz says. “The J’s (referring to Jan and Jan) have done an incredible job growing the company thus far.”

Share

Darvis

Darvis which stands for Data Analytics Real-world Intelligence System”  is a productivity as a platform (PaaS) company. Its main software, OmniRoom, combines computer vision and AI to locate and analyze objects to provide real-time insights.

For example, in hospitals, OmniRoom is used to track equipment (e.g. hospital beds and surgical equipment) and determine its state. Where is the surgical equipment? Has it been sanitized? 

Rather than a nurse or doctor, wasting 15-20 min, running around the hospital searching for the surgical set they need — only to find out that it hasn’t been sterilized — Darvis’s technology can instantly identify the location of the equipment and whether or not it has been sterilized. 

Healthcare providers also use OmniRoom to detect and prevent patient falls, explains Schlueter. 

“When nurses aren’t in the room, fragile patients will try and get up out of bed — whether that’s to go for a walk,  the bathroom, or any number of activities,” he says. “Unfortunately, this often ends in the patient taking a tumble and suffering from severe injuries.”

“OmniRoom can detect when a patient is trying to get up out of bed and alert the closest staff member who can then rush to the room before the patient falls,” adds Mohr.

Each year U.S. hospitals spend $34 million in direct costs  related to patient falls. If OmniRoom prevents just one fall in a hospital, it saves the facility $40,000.

Logistics companies like USPS leverage Darvis’s technology to track packages, monitor traffic (what times are the post offices the busiest), detect the capacity of containers (is the mail bin almost full). 

“Darvis empowers these companies to make data-driven decisions as opposed to just decisions with their guts,” says Dietz.

Like Google in 2001, Darvis is hoping its strategic high-powered hire will help them scale and attract more big name clients like Airbus, Bosch, USPS and the University of Miami.

Schlueter adds that Darvis is ready to retire the term “startup.”

“There comes a time when that term hinders a company from working with larger corporations,” he says. “It implies you do not have the safeguards or experience to work with international organizations.”

Darvis has already scaled significantly over the last 12 months. The company has added 30 to its seventy person team and doubled its revenue year-over-year.

“Michael will amplify and expand upon our momentum,” says Mohr, who hopes to add at least three Fortune 500 clients by the end of Q4 and 25 to the company’s headcount.

“I’m confident that we will turn Darvis into one of the world’s leading AI companies,” says Dietz.