A Nonprofit Walks Into the Chamber of Commerce and Gets Immediately Escorted Out

The Mountains of Western North Carolina

Well bless their hearts, the Rutherford County Chamber of Commerce finally emerged from their two-month sabbatical of silence to inform me—graciously, concisely, and with all the warmth of a parking ticket—that neither Indivisible Rutherford nor The Coven of Leaves is fit to join their shiny little clubhouse.

Two sets of applications.

Two months.

Two Board meetings.

And one letter.

Chamber Membership Review Outcome – Mortellus.pdf

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Because nothing screams fair evaluation quite like stuffing two entirely different organizations into one denial envelope as if they were a matched set. They don't even name the organizations in this communication.

So, let me get this straight, a federally recognized 501(c)(3) that feeds families, distributes disaster supplies, partners with relief organizations, and has operated in this county for more than 15 years—and a civic group focused on democracy and community resilience—were apparently so interchangeable in the Chamber’s eyes that they got dismissed in a buy-one-get-one rejection special.

Now, if they’d been evaluated on their actual merits, they'd have received separate discussions, separate outcomes, and separate letters. But they didn’t—and that tells you everything. Because this wasn’t a review of organizational merit, it was a review of Mortellus.

Trans non-binary Pagan clergy Mortellus. Conveniently cropped out of community photos Mortellus. Left off the guest list when it comes time to recognize non-profit work Mortellus. Activist and protest-organizer Mortellus. Travels-the-world-giving keynotes-on-Occultism-activism-and death-care Mortellus.

Which means, dear reader, that the Chamber is granting or denying membership based on the Board's personal feelings regarding an organizations staff, volunteers, or affiliates rather than measurable community benefit.

A Tale of Two Boards

Now, I’m sure it’s pure coincidence that Doug Grondahl sits on both the Chamber’s Board of Directors and on the Board of Directors for Thomas Jefferson Classical Academy.

Pure coincidence that the same handful of people keep showing up whenever power is being exercised quietly, neatly, and without public input.

Surely.

And while we're counting coincidences, here’s another: Grondahl is directly affiliated with quite a few organizations that already enjoy Chamber membership—a whole little kingdom of influence tucked neatly under one man’s belt.

So when he—I mean they—sat there deciding whether The Coven of Leaves or Indivisible Rutherford "belong" inside their velvet-rope version of “community”—he isn’t acting as a neutral evaluator so much as he is guarding a network he already holds a sizable slice of.

And surely it's just a coincidence that the Chamber’s vision of “community” so closely resembles TJCA’s vision of “appropriate families.” Surely.

And we absolutely can’t ignore the elephant in the room: Thomas Jefferson Classical Academy was involved in what happened to my twins, a PR wound they’ve been attempting—sour-facedly, desperately—to cauterize for over a year now.

And who has been perched front-and-center with the tourniquet?

Doug, of course.

But I’m certain—certain!—all of this was irrelevant to their decision.

The Bait, The Hook, The Big Gulp

Let’s be honest: this was bait. Premium, line-caught, artisanal bait.

I didn’t apply expecting the Chamber to welcome us with iced tea and a ribbon-cutting. When I applied for both The Coven of Leaves and Indivisible Rutherford I fully anticipated the rejection.

This was a test—a probe—a little social experiment to see whether the Chamber would behave like a community institution, or like a private club policing who gets to breathe the same air. And bless their hearts, they didn’t just take the bait—they deep-throated the fishing pole.

The Chamber loves to pose as the beating heart of the county’s business and organizational community—but they'd sooner swallow gravel than welcome in groups who serve marginalized folks, queer folks, poor folks, or anyone who doesn’t show up to ribbon-cuttings dressed like a Republican campaign ad.

Tell Me Again About “Community”

It's genuinely impressive—almost artful—that The Coven of Leaves, a federally recognized 501(c)(3) with a fifteen-year track record of feeding families, clothing neighbors, showing up during disasters, and working alongside relief organizations here in Rutherford county somehow fails to meet the Chamber’s holy standard of “collaboration.”

Yet similar organizations sail right on in.

Like, the Green River Baptist Association (which Mortellus and The Coven of Leaves collaborated with in the aftermath of Hurricane Helene, along with Gilkey and Gilboa United Methodist Churches, and another Chamber member, Habitat for Humanity), as well as Element Church and its affiliates like Hope House Coffee.

And when it comes to approved Chamber members how could we forget...businesses not even located in Rutherford county! Corporations with absolutely no stake in local community life! And, of course, at least two former slave plantations.

I know that when I look at Asheville Regional Airport in Buncombe County, Mission Hospital in McDowell County, a maid service HeyMaid) up in Hendersonville County, or Burger King and literal Amazon, the first phrase that comes to mind is absolutely:

“Hometown Rutherford County.”

If irony had calories, the whole county would be diabetic.

A Chamber of Carefully Curated Commerce

And here’s what we wanted the community to understand with this little exercise: the Chamber does not operate like an open membership organization. It operates like a fraternity that somehow got its hands on a county directory.

Sure—you can apply. You can pay. You can have legal nonprofit status, a proven track record of civic service, and documented community impact. But only in Rutherford County could a nonprofit that actually improves human lives be deemed too “misaligned” with a Chamber whose greatest service is cutting ribbons and posing for Facebook photos like a flock of over-caffeinated show chickens.

So, when the Chamber smiles thinly and tells me that The Coven of Leaves and Indivisible Rutherford “do not align with their vision,” I take them at their word. Because their vision isn’t community, it’s conformity. So maybe it’s time the Chamber updated their branding to reflect how they actually operate, something a little more honest. Something a little more… Rutherford County. May I suggest:

“Connection. Collaboration. Community. (For the Right Kind of People.)”

Because at the end of the day, that’s what this entire saga reveals. A county institution looked at charity, civic engagement, disaster relief, community service, and democratic participation and said:

“No, thank you. Not our kind.”

And honey, that just says everything.