Vermont Beekeepers Association
If you are a fledgling beekeeper or perhaps someone who is simply passionate about protecting our beloved pollinators, then the Vermont Beekeepers Association (VBA) is the go-to resource. The Association, a 501(c)(3) nonprofi t established in 1886, represents more than 500 beekeepers. Their statistics tout the fact that, in total, members’ 12,000 hives produce an astounding 700,000 pounds of honey per year.
James Key is the first Black elected to VBA’s board of directors as “Director at Large.” He is also the first Black Vermont Certifi ed Beekeeper and serves on the advisory board of the VBA for certification and testing of future beekeepers as well.
A beekeeper since 2017, James received his certifi cation in 2019. He is labeled a “hobbyist” by commercial honey producer standards because he works with fewer than 25 hives. His primary inspiration is to help sustain healthy honeybee populations, especially after he began noticing their absence from his own garden. Prior to becoming a beekeeper, James was working full time in the UVM medical center lab, putting his degree in ethnobotany from Norwich University to work, mostly studying pathogens, which has come in handy in his new role heading the VBA.
When James got in to beekeeping, he immediately joined the VBA, which off ers a plethora of resources for members including nurturing beginning beekeepers, sharing information about problems and their solutions, newsletters, workshops, and much more. Its members are commercial honey producers, veterinarians, and people who are simply passionate about bees. Members have access to an archive of workshops and classes for beginners to expert-level bee enthusiasts. There’s even an interloan library for members who want to have smaller clubs and to share tips and tricks. The annual fees go toward producing the workshops and aid in the group’s wider outreach through Slow Food events, the Tunbridge World Fair, and the Farm Show at the Champlain Valley Fair, attracting more than 200 members and supporters each year.
James Key is the first Black Vermont Certified Beekeeper and serves on the advisory board of the VBA for certification and testing of future beekeepers.
(left) James Key, director-at-large of the Vermont Beekeepers Association, surrounded by some of his hives at his home in central Vermont. (right) James Key lifts out a frame loaded with luscious honey from a hive.
The VBA is working steadily to advocate for bees and to address ongoing challenges faced by the bees such as colony collapse disorder.
Building connections between beekeepers is one of the nonprofit’s benefits. James connected early on with fellow beekeeper Ross Conrad, who became James’ first mentor and inspiration in becoming a Vermont Certified Beekeeper. The two met four years ago at a NOFA-VT conference. Their conversation led to Ross becoming James’ instructor and certifying his written exam, which is the first half of a twopart test to achieve certification. The second half is a field exam. “Our conversation led to Ross dedicating his resources and time in helping me become the first Black person to become a Vermont Certified Beekeeper, the first in the history of the organization,” James notes.
The VBA is working steadily to advocate for bees and to address ongoing challenges faced by the bees such as colony collapse disorder, which is a sudden disappearance of the majority of the worker bee population in the hive. “The cause of this phenomenon is unclear,” James explains, “although many possible causes or contributing factors have been proposed, such as diseases in the hive, pathogens, pesticides, and changes in the habitat around them. There is, year after year, an enormous death rate in the population due to a variety of diseases and a parasite called the Varroa Destructor. This parasite feeds on the fat of the bee, causing deterioration in the overall immunity of the honeybee to fight diseases.”
There is hope for the bees though! Individuals can play a large role by reading about the importance of honeybees, reducing or eliminating pesticide use, volunteering with a local beekeeper, and getting local schools involved or even asking the local rotary club to sponsor a pollinator garden. “Bees are part of our community,” James says.
ROSS CONRAD BLAZES A TRAIL FOR ORGANIC BEEKEEPERS
(left) Ross Conrad in his element; PHOTO COURTESY ROSS CONRAD
How did an aspiring DJ from Manhattan come into beekeeping? Nature intervened in a most serendipitous way. It was during 1990 and ’91 when Ross was DJ-ing near a ski resort a few nights per week, when, like many young people, he began to do some soul searching. He started reading about Sun Bear, the native elder, and became intrigued about a practice the tribe has called a vision quest, which is a rite of passage that involves fasting, praying for four days and nights, and seeking guidance. After saving some money, Ross traveled out to Spokane, Washington where he had the opportunity to spend time with native tribes and participate in a vision quest of his own.
On the second day of his quest, he glanced down and noticed a honeybee on his big toe. He observed the bee flying around him for several minutes. The next day, in the same spot, a bee returned to him and began flying around his head “like an arrow,” as though the bee was trying to pass through him or communicate in some way. “This is before I spoke bee,” Ross quips. It was this moment when he realized what he needed to do: change course.
Upon his return to Vermont, Ross reconnected with Bill Mraz of Champlain Valley Apiaries, a third-generation beekeeping business. Ross had assisted him with a honey harvest a couple of years prior, and Bill asked if he would like to come and work full time with him and the bees. “There aren’t a lot of people jumping at the chance to work with thousands of stinging insects that could kill you,” Ross says. But he was all in. This is how he learned his beekeeping. It was in 1992, when mites started wiping out hives pretty badly, when Ross began to explore the concept of organic beekeeping and reducing reliance on antibiotics to sustain hives.
Ross worked with Champlain Valley Apiaries for six years, from 1992 to 1998, before branching out on his own. He started small but made sure to diversify his income sources by working at a country home product store and an organic soap company. Then, when his book, Natural Beekeeping: Organic Approaches to Modern Apiculture, came out in 2007 (with an update in 2013), he decided to focus exclusively on beekeeping. However, he felt it was important to not rely solely on his crop that, in his view, can necessitate pushing living organisms for profi t. So now, Ross, in addition to keeping bees and making products such as honey, salves, and candles, teaches classes and frequently writes for a variety of publications. In his most recent book The Land of Milk & Honey: A History of Beekeeping in Vermont, coauthored with Bill Mares, he “explores the relationship between the people of Vermont and the countryside they inhabit: a land and people that shift and change thought the centuries in ways that directly aff ect the health and well-being of bees and beekeepers.”
“When you take a path in life where you don’t know where it leads, anything is possible. People said, you can’t do organic beekeeping because it wasn’t a thing and no one was talking about it. Now a lot of new people are getting in to beekeeping, and they want to do things differently and more naturally,” Ross says.
Ross sees two primary threats to the livelihood of honeybees at the moment: climate change and pesticide use, both by farmers and individuals in their own home gardens. Under our typical climate conditions, there are three to four honey flows in Vermont. In spring, there is the dandelion, followed by clover and alfalfa, then fall brings the goldenrod and asters. But climate change means that flowers are blooming at abnormal times, which disrupts the routines of the bees.
Ross concludes, “Before having that experience on the native vision quest, I had grown up in Manhattan, with no nature around. I had also worked in a fishery in Alaska and saw the amount of death being inflicted, and I felt like I wanted to do more to bring healing to the earth and be part of the solution. I figured if I’m going to spend most of my waking hours earning a living, I want the work to contribute to biodiversity. For me, it’s a spiritual thing. Having a deep connection to the land and earth helps provide a sense of meaning in life.”
