Opinion: The battle over data centers -- what they take, where the profits go and how some states show a better path

Data center developers have zoned in on rural America as
the best place to build. (Photo by R. Starnes Sr., Unsplash)

It was sold to Americans as the "cloud." Fluffy, white -- and most importantly, floating harmlessly in the heavens -- never to touch or interfere with life on Earth. But for all its promise, some say it is a lie. 

Lurking behind the cloud are data storage and computation machines that will eat up an inexhaustible amount of energy and water wherever they are built, writes Lawrence Winnerman for Blue Amp Media.

Stepping back, as cloud and AI developments began to take off, data center developers ran into a problem: Where could they find the land and resources to build their mega-scale, profit-generating AI machines? It didn't take them long to find the answer. They pinpointed the rich land and water resources in rural America as the ideal location, writes Jim Branscome in his opinion on Substack. 

Rural Americans, particularly those in Appalachia, who think data center developers are targeting their wide, open land and deep aquifers for their profits, are right. "The Pew Research Center, drawing on Data Center Map figures in early 2026, found that for the first time most planned data centers in the country are being built in rural areas rather than metropolitan ones; the South alone counted some 754 planned facilities against 1,209 existing, a 62% increase," Branscome explains. So far, the coalfields of Northern Virginia have the most planned or in-progress data centers. 

Pew Research graph

From public reporting, Branscome provides a list of Appalachian data center developments: 

• In West Virginia, the Monarch campus in Mason County, the Fundamental Data complex in Tucker County, the TransGas project in Mingo County, a $4 billion campus in Berkeley County, and a multibillion-dollar Google campus in Putnam County 
• In Southwest Virginia, proposals in Wise, Wythe, Pulaski and Montgomery counties, and a Google project in Botetourt
• In Pennsylvania, the four-gigawatt Homer City complex rising on a dead coal plant’s bones in Indiana County

“Every extraction in this region’s history has followed it — timber, then coal, then the dam-and-power complex, and now the machine," Branscome explains. "Each arrived speaking of jobs and progress. Each was welcomed by men who held office. Each took something that could not be replaced and left a bill that the people are still paying. The data center is not a break from that history. It is the latest chapter of it. . ."

And while Appalachia is "being asked to supply the land, the electricity, the natural gas, the water, and the tax forgiveness," the profits will not belong to those communities, Branscome writes. Instead, those riches will "belong to corporations headquartered far from [the] mountains."

As some rural communities have pushed back against data center build-outs, they have sought the support and protective advocacy of their lawmakers. Branscome adds, "Lay the states side by side and the moral is unmistakable. Where lawmakers chose to protect their citizens, they could. Where they chose to protect the industry, that too was a choice."

West Virginia’s leaders, and to a "growing degree Kentucky’s, have decided that the way to compete is to promise the fewest protections and ask the fewest questions. . . . It is precisely the logic that governed the coalfields for a hundred years," Brascome writes. In the name of economic development, elected officials are "signing over the people’s signed objections. This is not a new story. It is the oldest story we have, told in silicon.“

How the battle ends is yet to be decided. Branscome writes, "Pennsylvania, Virginia and Ohio have shown, each in its imperfect way, that a state can make the industry pay its own way, protect the ratepayer, demand transparency, and leave the decision with the people who live there. The technology is not the enemy; the terms are.

"A data center built on a reclaimed mine, paying its full freight for power and water, bound by an enforceable agreement, leaving real money in the county, and sited only where the community has agreed to have it — that would be something genuinely new in the history of these mountains."

Texas lawmakers juggle angry voters, data center developers, Trump's AI push and a tech-first governor

65% of Americans don't want a data center built
in their community. (Photo by G. Moffet, Unsplash)

With its sprawling land and business-friendly politics, data center developers decided Texas was an ideal place to build AI infrastructure. They began having their proposals quietly approved, and construction started, with little input from communities near their builds.

Fast forward to today. As data center projects proliferate throughout the state, many Texas communities are pushing back on AI and calling on their political representatives to put up guardrails, reports Liz Carey for The Daily Yonder. But when it comes to putting limits on AI development, Texas lawmakers face competing interests.

"Data center construction is unpopular among locals, and a majority of the facilities are being proposed in red, rural counties," Carey explains. Republican state lawmakers now find themselves "caught between a zealous president, a governor bent on Texas becoming the next global data center hub, and outraged constituents."

According to a Texas Tribune analysis, at least "82 data centers, or nearly 60% of those that are either planned or under construction, are in state House districts that voted for President Donald Trump and elected a Republican state representative in 2024," Carey reports. "A March Quinnipiac poll found that 65% of Americans oppose the building of an AI data center in their community."

Texas House Speaker Dustin Burrows and Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, who leads the Texas Senate, have made data center development a priority. The Yonder reports, "Both directed their chambers to balance the economic development benefits of the facilities with their potential impact on Texas communities and their water and power infrastructure."

Meanwhile, Texas county officials, who have no power over where AI centers end up, spend their days trying to manage angry, frustrated residents. Republican county executive Matt Sebesta told Carey, "When folks look at me and say, ‘We don’t want this,’ I point them to our state reps and say, ‘Go talk to your state rep. Go talk to your senator,’ because they don’t trust us to make those decisions."

State legislators have even started to divide along rural-urban lines, with "rural lawmakers tending to raise more concerns about data centers while those from urban areas have generally been more supportive — or at least quieter," Carey adds.

In response, AI companies have begun running ad campaigns across the Lone Star State that "tout the benefits of the facilities," Carey explains. "Meanwhile, the tech industry is already lavishing donations across the capitol."

How a small farming community kept its town from 'fading'

Aledo's renovated Carnegie Library is now a 
co-working tech hub. (Landmark Illinois photo)

The Great Recession left little Aledo, Illinois, hollowed out, but that's not the end of its story. The farming town with roughly 3,600 residents has made a surprising comeback with help from returning residents, a historical designation, the pandemic and a community that wouldn't allow its town to "fade," reports Rhonda Brooks of Farm Journal.

W. J. Albertson grew up in Aledo, which he recalled as a charming town with a bustling downtown. When Albertson and his wife returned to Aledo to help their aging parents in 2016-2017, the changes in the town were dramatic. He told Brooks, "We saw Aledo in a state that, you know, it hurt."

Location of Aledo, Ill.
(Wikipedia map)

After seeing his hometown's downturn, Albertson decided he wanted to help reverse Aledo's fortunes. Sometimes leading and sometimes following, Albertson became part of "a methodical effort … backed by city hall, nonprofit organizations, various companies and other local individuals — to make this little town 30 minutes south of the Quad Cities a vibrant community once again," Brooks explains.

Aledo's luck began to change in 2016 when its downtown was added to the National Park Service’s list of historic districts. Brooks reports, "About 80 buildings fell under the new designation, opening the door to federal and state rehabilitation tax credits."

When the town's historic Carnegie Library came up for auction, "Albertson and his partners moved quickly to acquire the building and lined it up as a tax-credit project," Brooks writes. "The plan was to show, in one visible example, that historic status and incentives could finance a modern use."

The Aledo Opera House has become the town's
'cultural anchor.' (Aledo Opera House photo) 

Once the pandemic hit, the community had fiber access installed in the renovated library, which helped the site evolve into a "job center and co-working hub, while providing a new reason to be downtown," Brooks reports.

As time has gone on, the community has renovated historic and non-historic buildings into apartment housing, quasi-bed-and-breakfast rooms and meeting venues. The Aledo Opera House was also renovated and reopened. Brooks adds, "The facility featured space for a stage, movie showings, and other community activities."

Albertson encourages small-town Americans to get involved in their communities. "He sums up Aledo’s guiding philosophy in a short formula that blends civic pride and faith," Brooks reports. He told her, "We kind of like to say, metaphorically, with our faith, broken things plus love equals restoration."

Small towns use simple fix that starts with private funds to keep high schoolers out of dead-end jobs

rootED advisors help rural students navigate educational
and employment complexities. (rootED photo)

A new program launched by billionaire investment banker Byron Trott is helping students at small-town high schools develop and execute after-high-school plans that tap into their interests and keep them out of "dead-end jobs," reports Lauren Weber of The Wall Street Journal. 

Called rootEd Alliance, Trott's program "has placed advisers in schools across seven states to fill a gaping void: 17- and 18-year-olds are expected to navigate an astoundingly complex labor market, often with little or no explicit guidance," Weber explains. 

The majority of the 280 schools that rootEd partners with "already have guidance counselors," Weber writes. But many are "overstretched with basics like sorting students’ schedules and managing the life emergencies that hit students all too often."

The program partners with more than 1,500 national
and local businesses. (rootED photo) 

By planting an advisor dedicated to providing career guidance and opportunities, students and their post-high school plans get more attention. According to Weber, that kind of focused planning is particularly important for rural students who are traditionally exposed to fewer career options and role models. Root advisers also help employers connect with potential employees to fill skilled-labor shortages. 

Through its advisors, rootED also aims to help students avoid poverty by training for careers with solid pay and promotion possibilities. Weber reports, "Once a school is staffed with a rootEd adviser, students are 54% less likely to wind up in low-skill, low-paying jobs than before." 

At schools where a rootEd advisor is working, students are more likely to pursue higher education. Weber adds, But advisors are "agnostic on whether students choose college, military service, employment or trade school," Weber reports. "The goal is for each senior to have a Plan A and ideally a Plan B." To help students develop those plans, advisors take students to different trade schools and colleges and promote scholarships.

A small town in Wisconsin pushes out a planned data center project

Organizers participated in a day of action in Menomonie
 in December. (Photo by K. Gregerson via Next City)

Three thousand years ago, it was David the shepherd boy vs. Goliath the Philistine giant. A 21st-century version of the proverbial battle goes something like this: Menomonie, Wisconsin. pop. 16,843 vs. Balloonist, LLC and its undisclosed tech-giant backer. Spoiler: Menomonie wins.

When Menomonie residents discovered their city council had already entered into closed-door talks with Balloonist last July, they had to hustle to get organized. Marianne Dhenin of Next City reports, "It was only weeks before the city council voted to annex and rezone the land to move the project forward. Organizers were fighting an uphill battle."

In the course of their fight to keep the $1.6 billion data center from spreading across 320 acres of farmland near the edge of town, Menomonie residents tapped into "grassroots community organizing and support from a growing statewide coalition," Dhenin writes. As they learned how to push Balloonist out of their town, residents created a toolkit for other small towns facing unwanted hyperscale data center proposals.

Menomonie residents who opposed the project "took to social media and the streets to raise the alarm about the data center proposal and organize community members," Dhenin explains. "They met to share information, staged demonstrations, and began attending city council meetings in growing numbers. . . . By September 2025, there were over 10,000 Menomonie residents and allies in a Stop the Menomonie Data Center Facebook group."

The town's resistance was so intense that Mayor Randy Knaack "announced at a Sept. 22 city council meeting that he had notified Balloonist that the city would not be moving forward with a development agreement," Dhenin reports. In January, the Menomonie City Council "voted unanimously to place additional regulations on data center projects."

Commentary: Why one journalist traded covering national news for a small-town newspaper in Big Sky Country

After he left a national media career to become editor of the Glasgow Courier in Glasgow, Montana, this journalist began to see his writing and the news differently, writes Skylar Baker-Jordan, reflecting in The Daily Yonder on his journey to a new career in the "middle of nowhere."

"Within my first few hours of being in Valley County, I learned people are hungry for local news. A new face in Glasgow, a town of 3,202 people, folks immediately asked what brought me, a born and bred Appalachian, to the high plains of Montana," Baker-Jordan writes.

Once Glasgow residents learned Baker-Jordan was the Courier's new editor, he was inundated with town gossip, juicy conflicts and events the paper needed to investigate. He writes, "That thirst for local news is not unique to Glasgow, but it is increasingly difficult to quench. . . More than 130 local papers ceased publication in the past year alone."

As smaller newspapers close, fewer towns can rely on local reporting, which the "middle of nowhere" towns need more than most. Baker-Jordan adds, "Moving here was my chance to use my talents in the service of a community that needed an editor to help its local paper avoid this fate."

Baker-Jordan didn't decide to switch careers in an instant, but over time, while he was working as an editor at 100 Days in Appalachia, a nonprofit newsroom managed by and for Appalachians. He writes, "Suddenly, I was writing about and reporting on regional matters I’d long overlooked, and the response was overwhelming. In my entire career, the most gratitude I received from readers – the highest volume of responses – was to stories I wrote about local and regional matters."

He began to think about his past journalistic efforts differently. Baker-Jordan explains, "The sheer vitriol of the partisan press began to make my screeds feel less like a righteous contribution to public discourse and more like the very thing eroding trust in media and our civic institutions writ large."

Baker-Jordan doesn't see his new editing gig or his town as lesser than his career in the bigger national news arena. He writes, "Small towns deserve to see themselves reflected and taken seriously every bit as much as large urban areas or Congress and Wall Street. They deserve reporters and editors who are dedicated to telling their stories, to establishing a public record of their history and people."

Quick hits: USDA plans fertilizer production in U.S.; farmers' 'stops' that aren't seasonal; curiosity builds community

Brooke Rollins

The Department of Agriculture plans to use tariff dollars and trade renegotiation resources to help fertilizer production in the United States. Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins said the "USDA is focused on helping move fertilizer supplies more quickly, but cautioned it will take time for crop nutrient prices to begin falling," reports Kim Chipman of AgriPulse. "Rollins said she hosted a meeting with executives of four top fertilizer companies and Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick, U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer and National Economic Council Director Kevin Hassett." The Trump administration hopes to roll out its full plan to move fertilizer production back to the U.S. sometime this week.

The University of Maine's Fort Kent campus will provide dorms,
 a lounge and a cafeteria for recovering teens. (UofM photo)

Just like some adults, preteens and adolescents can end up with severe drug and alcohol addictions that can end in an overdose or many failed recovery attempts. Recovery advocates in the tiny town of Fort Kent, Maine, will "use new funding to try a novel solution to the problem: a public boarding school for high schoolers in recovery," writes Lanan Cohen for The Hechinger Report. The new approach will "focus on abstinence and mental health to help students overcome their substance abuse problems." Educators hope the boarding school structure will allow students time to solidify new choices and coping strategies while remaining in school.

Graphic by A. Dixon, Offrange

It's not a farmers market. It's a farmers "stop," and it's open all year long. Farming advocates hope the concept continues to catch on. "The Argus Farm Stop model is built on a consignment basis with a 70/30 split: Farmers set their own prices and keep 70% of every sale, while Argus retains 30% to cover operating costs," reports Heidi Roth for Offrange. "A café inside each location accounts for roughly a third of sales but about half the profit, effectively subsidizing higher farmer payouts while creating a community hub where farmers can gather, and customers can meet producers." Not all farmer stops have the same elements, but all aim to support local farmers while fostering community spirit.

Musical talent from far-flung places often took center stage at the Big Ears festival in Knoxville, Tennessee. "The festival is rich with rural tradition, pulling in rural musicians from across the states and every continent except Antarctica (as far as I know)," reports Phillip Norman of The Daily Yonder. "I caught an ambient country jam by Setting in the backroom of Boyd’s Jig and Reel Scottish Pub, and hit the Knoxville Art Museum to witness the electric saxophone wizardry of Sam Gendel. . . . Big Ears is a festival for music nerds who are interested not only in how a concert sounds, but also how it reflects the lived experiences of the people making the music."

Beth Howard (Illustration by N. Nichols)

As an activist and community organizer for Appalachia and the broader South, Beth Howard hopes her memoir, Song for a Hard-Hit People: A Memoir of Anti-Racist Solidarity From a Coal Miner’s Daughter, helps readers see Southern differences through a lens of curiosity that they can apply to their daily interactions with other people, writes Nhatt Nichols of Rural Assembly. Howard said, "I think one of the biggest lessons for me when I was learning to organize is the importance of listening and asking really good, open-ended questions." Nichols adds, "Howard advocates for getting out into your community and finding other people who are doing organizing work that resonates with you, and offering to lend a hand, to learn more about your community without centering your own ideas."

A small town in western Mass. may be the 'canary in the coal mine' for cash-strapped municipalities across the U.S.

Anti-override activists insisted South Hadley town officials need
to address inefficiencies instead of raising taxes. 

After weeks of intense debate and campaigning, residents of South Hadley, Massachusetts, shot down a proposed 50% property tax increase, reports Scott Calvert of The Wall Street Journal. “South Hadley is a warning sign for financially strained municipalities across the U.S."

By 65% to 34% vote, residents from this small community rejected a "measure to allow the western Massachusetts college town to raise $11 million in new property taxes through what is called an override," Calvert explains. "A $9 million proposal also failed."

Override proponents said the town needed the cash infusion to address its current $3 million deficit, fund school operations and address rising costs. Calvert writes, "Override foes said a hefty property tax jump would overburden residents, particularly seniors."

Rudy Ternbach, who led the anti-override group Alliance for Fair Taxes, told the Journal, “Voters do not want to try and fix the government by increasing taxes on those least able to pay. They want more efficiencies in government and less taxes.”

South Hadley’s financial squeeze, partially due to a 42% increase in healthcare costs and declining state aid, may be part of a national trend, Calvert reports. Many municipalities are draining the last of their pandemic aid even as costs continue to rise.

Ternbach wants the town to "extract more money from Mount Holyoke College. . . which is largely tax-exempt," Calvert writes. "Both sides in the override debate want the college to do more."

Without additional taxes, local officials say, "there will be deep cuts: no school sports or extracurriculars and slashed Advanced Placement offerings, along with hits to police and public-works staffing," Calvert adds.

Chris Morrill, an expert in public finance, told Calvert, "It’s really a preview of what communities across the country are going to face. I think South Hadley’s perhaps the canary in the coal mine.” 

Open land, big skies, lots of grass — no data center. Some residents of rural New York area oppose big development.

Alabama's website contains has a link to STAMP information, but the page contains
surprisingly little information.  

Rural New Yorkers are voicing opposition to a proposed data center in Alabama, New York, a mostly agricultural community in Genesee County with roughly 1,600 residents, reports Mark Sommer of The New York Times. Area residents "fear the sprawling center’s droning supercomputers will disturb Indigenous communities and animal life, strain the power grid and raise utility rates."

The $19.4 billion complex -- dubbed the Science, Technology and Advanced Manufacturing Park — or STAMP — would cover 2.2 million square feet, and "be constructed roughly a mile from the territorial home of the Tonawanda Seneca Nation," Sommer writes. The massive data campus would also sit near the Iroquois National Wildlife Refuge and several smaller wildlife sanctuaries. 

Location of Genesee County in New
York (Wikipedia map)

As the Genesee County Economic Development Center moves the project forward, more residents are raising objections. Sommer reports, "The center’s opponents are also considering a lawsuit, which could delay it or stop it entirely."

Arthur Barnes, a resident of Shelby, a town just north of Alabama, told the Times, "I can’t think of one good reason for it. . . . Of all the places to put something like this, did they have to put it right next to a sovereign nation and a national wildlife refuge?"

If STAMP is built, area residents worry that their electricity rates will soar. Sommer explains, "The three states with the nation’s highest concentration of such data centers — Illinois, Virginia and Ohio — saw their electricity bills increase twice as much or more than the national average in August 2025 as compared with the ​​​​same month in 2024."

Area residents who support STAMP say the fees and taxes it will pay will make the inconveniences it causes worth it. The Genesee County Economic Development Center can "expect $145 million in fees," Sommer reports. "Genesee County, Alabama and the local school district would also receive a combined $285 million over the course of STAMP’s 30-year contract."

Rural towns provide land, workforce and a unique energy supply to support a new type of nuclear power plant

The Natrium facility divides nuclear and nonnuclear sections of the plant, which leads to more
reliable energy output at lower cost. (TerraPower design graphic)

TerraPower plans to build smaller nuclear power plants in declining coal towns across the U.S., and it needs land, a reliable workforce, and a uniquely enriched uranium to get the job done. Rural towns more than 1,500 miles apart will provide all three for the first reactor.

Kemmerer, Wyoming, is providing the site, many of the workers, and infrastructure supports for TerraPower's first power plant, called Natrium, which recently became "the first new commercial reactor to receive federal approval in nearly a decade," reports Brad Plumer for The New York Times.

The federal permit allows the company to begin construction on Natrium's nuclear components. "The company had already broken ground on the site in 2024 and had begun building the non-nuclear parts of the plant," Plumer explains. Natrium is slated to go online in 2031, just a couple of years before the town's coal plant is expected to be retired.

The plant's designs are novel and will allow smaller, less expensive reactors to be built; however, when the company broke ground on its Kemmerer plant, it didn't have an American supplier for the reactor's unique enriched Uranium known as HALEU.

At the time, only Russia was making HALEU. As TerraPower searched for a solution, a uranium enrichment facility in the rural town of Piketon, Ohio, said it could step up to produce HALEU before the reactor went online.

TerraPower is now "partnering through a memorandum of understanding with Centrus, a company in Ohio, that will likely be the first in the U.S. to make the fuel on a commercial scale," reports of Caitlin Tan of Wyoming Public Radio. 

Brown tap water and an ongoing boil order highlights water systems under stress in rural towns

Brown water from a Tallulah residential tap.
(Photo by Donald Wood via WWNO)

In Tallulah, Louisiana and Cotton Plant, Arkansas, there's plenty of drinking water, but it runs brown from residential faucets and leaves stains on most things it touches.

Both small towns have sunk into debt paying for repairs to their aging water infrastructure. Despite those efforts, most Tallulah and Cotton Plant residents still face brown water in their taps, report Elise Plunk, Lucas Dufalla and Phillip Powell for New Orleans Public Radio, WWNO.

The water problems in both towns aren't isolated issues. Of the more than 45,000 community water systems that serve 10,000 people or less, "more than a third fell out of compliance with federal water standards sometime in the 12-month period that ended last September," WWNO reports. "For many of the 66 million Americans who live in rural places, [those systems] are the main source of water."

Tallulah used to be a vibrant town, but over time, its population dwindled, shrinking municipal tax revenue needed to repair aging water systems. Tallulah owned its water system and used its income to cover the rest of the town's needs, rather than investing in water system upgrades and repairs.

Some Tallulah residents purchased expensive filtering equipment, but even that hasn't been a full solution because the poor water quality breaks the filters.

Cotton Plant, Arkansas, residents have been dealing with "a boil order since last year, with little hope of securing the funds needed to fix an aging water system that is drowning in debt," Plunk writes. "The town’s water struggles started in 2023 and worsened in 2025, after a break in one of the main water lines sent discolored water rushing through residents’ taps."

Cotton Plant was a bustling agricultural town with 1,800 residents at its peak in 1950. According to WWNO, the town's water system is now too large and too expensive to be maintained by Cotton Plant's ever-shrinking population, which hovers at 530 people. Without tax revenue to address water system needs, the town borrowed money from the Arkansas Department of Agriculture and the USDA. Cotton Plant's water is still undrinkable.

This story was produced by the Mississippi River Basin Ag & Water Desk, an independent reporting network based at the University of Missouri, in partnership with Report for America.

In search of a quieter and more affordable place to live, many Americans move to largely rural states

The South Dakota website "Dakota Roots" claims the state is "paradise for anyone who loves the outdoors." (Dakota Roots photo)

Several rural states are seeing population growth as Americans leave cities in search of a different lifestyle that includes lower living costs.

"Nearly 15 million Americans moved across the country in 2025, with many opting for quieter and more affordable places to live, according to data company Stora's U.S. Census analysis, reports Kelly McGreal of Fox News. 

 

Saving money and living closer to nature are big factors for many movers. McGreal writes, "About 88% of movers say they're relocating to save money, while 76% are seeking better access to outdoor lifestyles often found in rural areas."

South Dakota, a state with no income tax, had the largest population gains. "The state recorded the largest net migration increase, with nearly 11,000 more people moving in than leaving," McGreal adds. "Other largely rural states also ranked highly, including Vermont, Nebraska, Mississippi and Alaska."

Home prices are also a driving factor. "Home prices in South Dakota average around $310,000, below the national average," McGreal reports. 

 

Gavin Shields, CEO of Stora, told McGreal, "It's no longer just about the house, but about having financial freedom, the ability to buy your own property that comes at a more affordable price, and a lower cost of living."

A rural Minnesota town works to manage effects of ICE raids on local community

A group of concerned Willmar residents gather to discuss
recent ICE activity. (Photo by B. Froiland, The Yonder)

What would you do if U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement descended on your small town? Residents of Willmar, Minnesota, are working on an answer.

The town might have only 21,000 people, but as ICE has fanned out in Minnesota's bigger cities, such as Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minn., it has also taken to raiding in smaller towns like Willmar, which has a racially diverse population, including many Somali and Latino residents.

A group of Willmar residents, who have been working together to prevent community ICE arrests, recently met at a local Mexican restaurant to discuss ICE actions and possible ways to help threatened neighbors, reports Betsy Froiland of The Daily Yonder. "The residents around the table were high school students and business owners, children and parents, white neighbors witnessing the terror in their community and neighbors of color living it."

One Willmar resident told the group, “You see things in the news and you think, ‘that’s never going to happen here,’ Froiland reports. “And then you’re witnessing it firsthand.”

The ongoing ICE presence is also having a chilling effect on the town's economy. Froiland explains, "With people too afraid to leave their homes to work or shop, many local businesses are taking a financial hit."

Location of Willmar within 
Kandiyohi County, Minn.

Right now, many Willmar residents are doing their best to look out for one another and provide for residents in hiding. Froiland reports, "They are picking up the pieces after ICE arrests a neighbor, contacting their family, returning their belongings, and arranging care for children and pets left behind."

Other residents have seen their relationships with neighbors fracture. Froiland writes, "While some cross-party relationships remain intact, others have devolved, particularly online, into political sparring about ICE."

The group at the table is trying to figure out how to handle present-day life in Willmar." Julie Vossen-Henslin, another resident in the room, wondered aloud about how the community might recover from an experience like this, Froiland adds. "Then, looking at her neighbors sitting around their big, makeshift table, she answered her own question, 'it starts like this.'"

Small-town governments can intentionally build 'local patriotism' to combat voter and citizen apathy

Graph by Sean Richey, The Conversation

Despite the direct impact local governments have on public safety, taxes and schools, only a fraction of voters cast ballots in local elections, and many residents don't know their elected officials' names.

"Turnout in local elections regularly falls below 20%, often leaving critical decisions in the hands of small, unrepresentative groups, creating an electorate that’s disproportionately white, elderly and affluent," writes Sean Richey for The Conversation.

Richey's more recent research explored what factors influence why some voters become more engaged in their communities, and others don't. He notes, "An overlooked factor explains why some people engage with their communities while others tune out: local patriotism, or how they feel about their town."

Residents who "love their town" were far more likely to participate in activities that impact it. Richey explains, "Even after accounting for factors such as age, education, income and general interest in politics, loving one’s town strongly predicted participation in local politics. . . . Local patriotism also correlated strongly with trust in local government."

For smaller governments, encouraging local patriotism can open up dialogues with potential voters and volunteers who have different needs and hopes for their town. When citizens care, they are more likely to chime in and participate. On a broader scale, when Americans love their towns, their social and political activities support democracy.

Farmers markets can help residents build a sense of hometown 
pride. (Photo by Thomas Barwick, Getty via Conversation CC)

"Local patriotism appears to address a fundamental puzzle in political science: why anyone participates in local politics at all," Richey explains. "The time and effort required almost always exceed any tangible benefit an individual would receive."

Richey's study shows that whether starting a local farmers market, celebrating a new school building or encouraging nature walks that highlight a town's most celebrated wildlife or landscapes, local patriotism can be intentionally fostered. His complete list of suggestions is here.

Somalis found refuge in a small Minnesota town, but now they're afraid to leave their homes

A Somali grocery store sign in Willmar, Minn.
(Photo via Federal Reserve Bank of Minnesota)

Over the past 30 years, the small farming town of Willmar, Minnesota, has become home to Somali families fleeing civil war and famine. The community of roughly 20,000 residents has welcomed so many Somalis that "a lively stretch downtown is called 'Little Mogadishu' because Somalis run more than a dozen storefront businesses," reports Joe Barrrett of The Wall Street Journal.

Despite their dedication to family and entrepreneurial contribution, many Willmar Somalis are afraid to leave their homes after "President Donald Trump lashed out against immigrants from Somalia, calling them 'garbage' and saying he doesn’t want them in the U.S.," Barrett writes. U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents have reportedly intensified raids in Minnesota after Trump's comments. 

Somalis across Minnesota have already been "shaken by a sprawling fraud scandal that has put the state’s Somali community in the national spotlight and drawn Trump’s ire," Barrett explains. Federal prosecutors say dozens of people -- almost all of whom are from the Somali community -- used fake businesses to steal millions from the Federal Child Nutrition Program, beginning in April 2020.

Location of Willmar within Kandiyohi 
County (Wikipedia maps) 

Willmar leaders don't see the scandal as a fair representation of the Somali population living in the U.S. Willmar's mayor, Doug Reese, told Barrett, “I can honestly say I haven’t encountered any bad Somalis. I mean, there’s probably some, but by and large, they’re good people.”

If Willmar's Somalis were forced to leave, it would deeply wound the town's economy. Rollie Nissen, a 79-year-old Willmar Republican leader, told Barrett, "I don’t think [Trump] should be painting with a broad brush. We should get rid of the people who are here illegally, not ship everybody back to Somalia or Mexico or Venezuela.”

A small university town in southern Illinois 'leads the nation in out-of-state abortion patients'

Adobe Stock photo

Surrounded by farmland and the vast wooded expanses of the Shawnee National Forest, Carbondale, Illinois, has become a central hub for abortion access. 

The small-sized town, which is home to Southern Illinois University Carbondale, is within “driving distance of 10 states with abortion bans,” reports Elizabeth Williamson of The New York Times. “Last year, there were nearly 11,000 abortions in this city of 21,000.”

After the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, 14 states have banned the procedure. Those bans made “geography an all-important factor in access to the procedure,” Williamson explains. “And placed Carbondale, a liberal enclave in a deeply conservative region, in a complicated position.”

Unlike many of its neighboring states, abortion remains legal in Illinois. Carbondale's location near the southern tip of Illinois makes travel from states such as Missouri, Indiana, Kentucky, Mississippi and even Louisiana possible for women seeking the procedure. Williamson writes, “Illinois now leads the nation in out-of-state abortion patients.”

Although many Carbondale residents support “its status as a safe harbor. . . the sheer number of abortions has also created some unease and worry about a backlash,” Williamson explains. 

One community member told Williamson she was concerned about the negative attention the high number of abortions could bring to the otherwise “quiet community.”

Carbondale has three women’s clinics that perform abortions, but two of the three provide other women’s health services. “Alamo Women’s Clinic only does abortions, both procedural and medication, all on-site,” Williamson reports. “Fewer than five percent of Alamo patients are from Illinois.”

Forever chemicals in drinking water are a national problem, but smaller communities face the biggest challenge

Minnesota lawmakers learn about technology to remove PFAS.
(Photo by Tad Johnson, Dakota Tribune)

The costs of removing forever chemicals, or PFAS, from municipal water could leave smaller communities behind. Most rural utilities don't have a PFAS contaminant filtration system, nor can they afford one, a 2025 study found. "Small, rural communities are the least likely to have the advanced systems in place," reports Brian Bienkowski for The New Lede.

The technology to remove the long-lasting, human-made "forever chemicals" found in many commercial and industrial products that have been linked to a range of health risks, including several types of cancer, fertility issues and developmental delays in children, can cost millions of dollars to purchase and install.

Even smaller cities are struggling to cover the costs to remove forever chemicals. In Apple Valley, Minnesota, some of the expenses utilities are paying to bring PFAS levels in their drinking water into compliance with Environmental Protection Agency rules will "likely hike water rates [customers pay] to fund a $100 million project to rid its wells of PFAS," reports Eva Herscowitz of the Minnesota Star Tribune.

To help buffer the costs, Apply Valley is asking its legislature to "include $40 million in the 2026 bonding bill for the project that would add membrane filter technology, which would increase the treatment plant’s capacity from 18 million gallons per day to 20 MGD," reports Tad Johnson of Thisweek Dakota County Tribune.

Like many rural areas with higher levels of PFAS contaminants, Apple Valley can't trace the source of its forever chemicals, which has allowed some communities to tap lawsuit dollars from companies such as 3M that were found responsible for tainting regional wells.

The Environmental Study Group found that "just 8% of U.S. water systems are equipped with filters that can remove PFAS. And 98% of systems that have PFAS detections do not have treatment targeting the chemicals."

Dan Hartnett, the chief policy officer at the Association of Metropolitan Water Agencies, cited a report that "estimated annual household cost to pay for the advanced treatment methods would average an additional $230 per household per year," Bienkowski writes. Hartnett added, “The numbers were significantly higher for the smallest water systems."

Federal funding cuts, decreased use and a sluggish U.S. economy will cost some rural towns their libraries

The Tieton Library will close later this month, leaving the town's 
1,610 residents without a library for the first time since 1946.

Libraries in rural towns provide residents with a safe community hub that offers educational materials, meeting space, and sometimes even a place to escape inclement weather. But federal budget cuts, a slowing economy and demographic changes are forcing some small-town libraries to close.

Earlier this year, President Donald Trump issued an executive order "dismantling the Institute of Museum and Library Services, which has provided around $270 million a year to public and academic libraries," reports Anna Griffin of The New York Times. Without those federal dollars, some libraries in smaller communities won't have enough funding to remain open.

While Trump's executive order faces a court challenge, some smaller libraries are already scaling back. "Some rural libraries in Florida and Mississippi, for example, have frozen inter-library loan programs, sharply reducing the range of materials available to residents in more remote areas," Griffin writes. "State libraries in Maine, Indiana, Connecticut and Washington have laid off staff members or warned that layoffs were coming."

While most U.S. library systems rely on federal and state funding and already operate within tight budgets, smaller libraries with a more limited tax base have a harder time raising funds to cover shortfalls. 

The Yakima library district in Washington state, which serves rural farming towns, is an example of a system that had to make changes to remain solvent. District leaders have already announced an increase in fees to maintain services. The fee changes, along with looming state and federal funding cuts, have already pushed a Yakima library in Tieton to schedule its closure for later this month.

Kate Laughlin, executive director of the Association for Rural & Small Libraries, told Griffin, "We had a financial model that wasn’t all that sustainable even before this administration. What you are seeing in a place like Yakima County is the start, not the end."

A 'hyperscale' data center proposal divides a small town, but few details are known about the project

Residents pack a November meeting of the Bessemer City Council.
(Photo by Lee Hedgepeth, Inside Climate News)

A sprawling data center plan in Bessemer, Alabama, has divided the small town of 25,000 people, who know very few details about the project. 

Despite the lack of public knowledge about the build, the Bessemer City Council approved "rezoning hundreds of acres of forested land at the city’s edge to make way for a 4.5 million square foot data center," reports Lee Hedgepeth of Inside Climate News. Council members, some of whom signed nondisclosure agreements, voted 5-2 to allow the $14.5 billion project to move forward.

Two Bessemer City Council members, Cleo King and Donna Thigpen, "voted against the proposal, called 'Project Marvel,' which has been nearly universally opposed by the residents who live near the site," Hedgepeth writes.

King told Hedgepeth that he didn't think the Bessemer City residents stand to benefit anything from having "a data center [that will] include 18 buildings the size of Walmart Supercenters and consume a massive amount of water and electricity" move into their community.

Bessemer residents, both for and against the project, have attended city council meetings, with those opposing the build complaining that they receive only vague responses to their questions. Residents supporting the project say opponents are "anti-growth."

King said "even as a council member, he has not seen any additional planning documents answering the questions raised by residents and environmental groups," Hedgepeth writes.

"Several representatives of the local school system have testified in favor of the data center proposal," Hedgepeth reports. The developer behind the project reassured council members that Project Marvel will be a "financial boon for Bessemer and will cause no negative impacts for either residents or the environment."

It's hard for Bessemer residents on both sides to get the full measure of the proposal. Ryan Anderson, a staff attorney for the Southern Environmental Law Center, an environmental nonprofit, said that "she was shocked by how little is still publicly known about the project after months of public hearings," Hedgepeth reports. She told him, "You can’t answer the most basic questions about what company is building a data center here."

Immigration and Customs Enforcement restaurant raid splits a small town in Trump country

Mt. Vernon townspeople remain divided over
the ICE raid at Pancho's Tacos.

After ICE raided a favorite Mexican food spot in Mount Vernon, Ohio, and hauled off several of its employees, a heated town debate erupted over the incident. The small community of 17,400 people in "deep-red Trump country" is still grappling with the fallout, report Cameron McWhirter and Ruth Simon of The Wall Street Journal.

While the raid at Pancho's Tacos was over in roughly 30 minutes, arguments over the justification or lack thereof for raiding a small-town restaurant and arresting five of its allegedly illegal workers have raged on.

Some Mt. Vernon residents "fully support how the operation took place," McWhirter writes. But other residents voiced concern that ICE tactics aren't the way immigration enforcement ought to work -- especially not in small-town America.

Once word of the raid spread through rumor and social media, online comments on all sides of the incident began pouring in. One commentator wrote, "'I used to remember how people loved one another and accepted one another despite their differences,'" the Journal reports. "But another wrote: 'This is EXACLTY (sic) what we voted for. Send all illegals home.'"

Beyond the spiraling debate, the raid was especially worrisome for area dairy farmers, who rely on an immigrant workforce to do the hard labor required in dairy farming. Noel Alden, a Mount Vernon lawyer, told the Journal, "Neighbors, friends, people who serve them are being whisked away. . . .They haven’t even started on farms yet.”