Growing up in Springfield while her father was incarcerated in Colorado and living on and off with a mother who, according to her, was involved in criminal activities and also spent time in prison, Tyiesha Enoch didn’t have the easiest childhood.
As a young girl at school, she often would spend lunchtime with counselors, who learned she had a love of animals – especially horses and livestock – and thought she would be a great candidate for
On-The-Rise. A nonprofit farm-based program, located on a roughly seven-acre property outside the city in Pike Township, On-The-Rise is designed to teach life skills and more to “underserved” youth ages 10 to 18.
Unfortunately, Tyiesha was only 8 or 9 at the time, as the now 25-year-old recalls, but On-The-Rise Director Debbie McCullough was made aware of her interest and promised she’d be in touch down the line.
“She called me on the day of my 10th birthday and asked me if I was still interested in being in the program,” Enoch recalls during a recent phone interview, her answer being an emphatic yes.
“When McCullough did the interview, she was telling me about how I’d be working on a farm and how there were goats and chickens and all sorts of stuff there,” she continues. “I was all for it.”
Billed as a “uniquely structured farm program,” On-The-Rise provides real-life, experimental learning opportunities year-round to instill responsibility, work ethic, social growth, sustainable living, respect, teamwork, and accountability. They have participants work together on a variety of tasks related to raising farm animals and growing produce.
Participants complete farm work at On-The-Rise.On-The-Rise sells products such as goat and chicken meat and brown eggs at the Springfield Farmers Market. Everything that’s grown in the relatively small garden is used to feed the kids at the farm or sent home with them, McCullough says.
Their mission is “to help students develop into a well-rounded citizen by teaching life skills, social skills and employable skills” and to facilitate them in recognizing “the resilience within themselves and that they are capable of anything they put their mind to.” Additionally, they collaborate with local schools to enhance academic performance.
It also, according to its website, embraces diversity, including individuals from all cultures, racial identities, gender identities, and socioeconomic backgrounds. Statistics provided by On-The-Rise appear to back that up, with roughly half the participants being non-white and the split of boys and girls nearly even. Enoch’s background is not unusual for the program, with six of 27 recent participants having members of their immediate families incarcerated. Another two have family members who were deported.
***
Nearly a quarter century ago, McCullough founded the program with the late Catherine Faye Tofstad, whom she met when both worked in real estate. The pair found they shared a passion for helping children, McCullough says, and worked for a couple of years in school systems while they formulated their plan for a program in a rural setting.
McCullough’s “city boy” husband, Ed, agreed they would buy the farmhouse property, which included an apartment in the rear where the program could be run. On-The-Rise was “bare-bones” in those early days, and McCullough and Tofstad learned what worked as it grew.
“There was always a vision to make these children feel loved,” McCullough says, “and to teach them a different way.”
The grounds at On-The-RiseTo accomplish this, On-The-Rise transports the kids to the farm, where, during the school year, they arrive after school and during the summer, they shift to a morning window to avoid the afternoon heat. The boys visit two days a week, and the girls visit on another two days.
Phones are not allowed while they’re there, nor are outside foods and drinks. McCullough has what she describes as healthy snacks waiting for them, and they talk about their day.
“Then we write down our goals for the afternoon,” she explains. “They could be cleaning up the henhouse today, collecting eggs, or if we have a special project or guest speaker that’s coming in.”
It’s baked in that the children get along as they collaborate on tasks.
“We’re not always going to love everybody that we’re with on a job, but we have to learn to cooperate and work together," she adds.
Inside On-The-RiseEven the arrival of guests is a teaching moment thanks to a protocol McCullough, staffers, and volunteers establish with each group.
“If someone comes to the farm, [the kids] stop what they’re doing and they go and greet those people, and make them feel welcome at the farm. They shake their hands and say their names,” McCullough says. “It’s kind of a simplistic way of changing behaviors, but we do it.”
As youths exit the program, she regularly asks for a “takeaway” or something they’ve learned from their time there.
“If you don’t have a takeaway, I’m flunking my job,” McCullough says. “I want to give them one thing that they can walk away with, they didn’t walk in the door with.”
On-The-Rise participants complete an activity while out to eat.In addition to the hands-on farm work, On-The-Rise also hosts a teen program, which takes place around the community. Participants learn about potential employment opportunities and subjects such as pregnancy prevention and the dangers of drug and alcohol abuse.
Running a program like this does not come without challenges. McCullough points to examples such as a temporary drop in funding from a governmental agency.
“We had to scrounge food from our cabinets to feed the kids because we didn’t want them to know there was a problem," she says. They also experienced a fire that caused the death of numerous animals.
“Thank goodness the kids had just left when it broke out,” McCullough says.
But the challenges also come with a silver lining sometimes. In this situation, it was that many of the program’s past participants visited after the fire to show support.
“They were adults then, but they were crying because this was their farm and those animals were their animals,” McCullough says. On-The-Rise hosts a family night every October, and much like their return after the fire, seeing alumni return to the farm is bittersweet.
***
By McCullough’s estimation, the best-case scenario is that a participant will benefit so much that he or she no longer needs the program and perhaps will take part in an after-school activity that demands that time.
“Our hope is that they’re going to phase out of here because we don’t have a whole lot of space,” McCullough says. “We carry a waiting list all the time for kids to come in.”
Participants spend time with goats at On-The-Rise
She admits the program doesn’t have a perfect batting average, noting that one former participant is in prison.
“You can’t help everybody, but, you know, you can try to do the best with what you have,” she says.
Enoch returned to On-The-Rise about five years ago as an employee and says she sees her former self in a lot of the kids.
More recently, she has taken over the teen program and spends much of her time scheduling all of those potentially beneficial visits to community organizations and places of business.
“By all rights, she should not have been a success,” McCullough says of Enoch. “She is a success. The whole story of our program is right there in this girl. She is unreal.”
The feeling is mutual. Enoch says McCullough is “absolutely amazing” and a mother-like figure to the kids, who will be there for them in any way she can.
To McCullough, her program is more than a job.
“It’s 23 years later, and I can’t even see it as my job,” she says. “It’s really my life.”