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By Canary Media
CHICAGO — On a beautiful fall Saturday morning on the South Side of Chicago, the Life Center Church of God in Christ thrummed with excitement. The pews were packed with over a thousand people dressed in their best — including more than a hundred in black graduation caps and gowns.
Before praying, Pastor Torrey L. Barrett invited the crowd to “turn it up,” so people cheered, danced, and waved hats in the air.
Though the sun streaming in the stained-glass windows was bright, the scene was not what might typically come to mind when one thinks about a solar industry gathering.
Instead of discussions of policy and technology, this was all celebration, music, and joy. And the people in the church were overwhelmingly African American, whereas the solar industry workforce is predominantly white.
But solar was the reason for the celebration. The 548 Foundation was commemorating the fact that its solar industry training program has now served more people than the number in its name, and is on track to reach 700 graduates by the end of the year. Participants are largely from the South and West sides of Chicago, disproportionately lower-income and African American communities whose residents have largely been left out of the clean energy economy.
The foundation was the brainchild of A.J. Patton, who grew up in a public-housing unit numbered 548 in Terre Haute, Indiana. Patton said his commitment to community empowerment and energy justice was sparked by the year — 1999 — that his family spent boiling water on an electric stove for baths, since his mother couldn’t afford a $400 gas bill.
I first met Patton in 2019, soon after he cofounded the startup 548 Capital LLC with his childhood friend from that same housing development, Erica Johnson, who was by then working in construction risk management for New York City’s housing authority. Their goal was to leverage renewable and energy-efficiency incentives to create affordable housing in marginalized Chicago neighborhoods, without contributing to the gentrification and displacement that often coincides with outside investment.
I was struck by Patton’s bold confidence and the large scale of their plans. He had quit a promising career in investment banking to focus on 548, entering a Chicago affordable-housing scene notorious for bureaucracy, cronyism, and challenges like the dilapidated state of buildings in low-income communities.
At the graduation, Patton described his path after launching the startup.
Their company acquired and renovated a six-flat apartment building, and soon more properties followed. They were “cutting folks’ bills,” Patton explained, but the people “swinging the hammers” on the building upgrades and solar panel installations did not reflect the local residents. When he pressed contractors to hire a more diverse workforce, he said he heard things like, “You know your people, they ain’t on time, they ain’t safe.”
That, Patton said, was the genesis of the 548 Foundation, a nonprofit that has now hosted 51 three-month training sessions in solar installation and related electrical and carpentry work, as well as basic life and job skills.
In 2021 Illinois passed a law focused on driving equity in the clean energy workforce as well as in the deployment of solar arrays. It provided funding for workforce training programs and incentives for solar developers to hire employees meeting equity criteria, including those from low-income neighborhoods and people with histories in foster care or the criminal justice system.
The 548 Foundation began offering trainings through the state workforce-development program in 2023, said Patton, and now the foundation holds multiple sessions each year in Chicago and the suburbs of Aurora, Elgin, and Waukegan, home to large Latino immigrant and African American populations. Another Chicago session will begin this month.
Under the state program, students get a stipend along with support to help them overcome barriers like child care and car trouble. The programs feature not only technical instruction but basic skills from math to resume-writing. Wraparound services help trainees with mental health, housing, and other needs. Across Illinois, these offerings have been crucial to helping people not only acquire skills and certifications but get and keep jobs, according to Patton and other workforce-development leaders.
In August 2024, I attended a job fair that 548 put on for their graduates. There, multiple solar employers did interviews that they said would promptly result in job offers, and instructors revealed some of the secrets to their success. They noted that the supportive services continue after graduation — trainees can keep coming back to 548 staff and affiliates for aid and advice. And the instructors work hard to prepare their charges for all the nuances of the job. For example, they role-play conflict mediation and start hands-on classes at 6 a.m., when work in the field often begins — so the participants can build routines around early-morning child care and other family responsibilities.
At the graduation, Patton touted the program’s results, and how it has dispelled stereotypes about Chicago’s Black communities.
“They said we didn’t want to work. Somehow, we have a 500-person waiting list to get in this program. Then they said we weren’t smart enough to learn this stuff. We have a 70% graduation rate, 700 graduates. Then they said the market wasn’t ready for us. Meanwhile, we have a 68% placement rate. Our students get jobs within 33 days of graduation. They’re averaging $68,000 a year. So while others are talking, we work. That’s what we do.”
He warned graduates to stay focused on their goals and careers despite such prejudice, as well as potential “distractions,” like friends who just want to party or long-lost relatives who suddenly appear to borrow money.
The cautionary notes soon dissolved into applause and music, as it was time for the diplomas. Instructors from different cohorts came to the pulpit to read the names of their trainees. Each graduate shook hands in a long receiving line including Patton and various elected officials, while people cheered loudly from the pews.
“I’m super proud of her!” enthused Natane Brown after dashing into the aisle to embrace her sister, Asia Bell.
After the ceremony the crowd spilled onto the sidewalk, where graduates were showered with flowers and balloons and posed for photos with family and friends.
Graduate Anthony Legorreta hoisted his young nephew in his arms as his relatives crowded. “This was most definitely a life-changing experience,” he said.
Fellow graduate Kelvin Davis said he loved the hands-on installation training, but sees himself “doing something toward desk work” in the solar industry – “not so much the physicality.”
“They were very open to whoever wants to learn. It’s an open door for the community,” said Davis of the program.
Graduate Mikah Allen doesn’t necessarily see himself working in solar at all. He prefers iron work and construction, and the links with trade union apprenticeships embedded in the training should help with that too. The state recently revamped the clean energy curriculum to prepare workers for a wider range of careers, given the current volatility of some clean energy industries.
At the graduation, Pastor Barrett described 548’s classes as part of the quest to build generational wealth in disenfranchised Black communities. He shared how his grandfather came to Chicago from the cotton fields of Mississippi with a third-grade education, and through a labor union job was able to buy a home and raise a family, including Barrett’s father, a renowned gospel singer, pastor, and civil rights activist.
“We come from neighborhoods that people write off,” Barrett said. “But you all have changed the trajectory not only of yourselves but of the community.” He predicted that “the next generation of contractors, the next generation of developers, the next generation of millionaires is sitting right in this room.”
At a time when discussion of the American solar industry often revolves around slashed federal incentives, troubled supply chains, and projects blocked by community opposition, the scene in the church that morning provided an inspiring and refreshing antidote. It was a reminder that even in the face of great challenges, clean energy can help improve not only the climate but individuals’ lives.
“You have people here who have just come home from prison, who have been left off to the side in society,” Patton told me outside the church, between congratulating graduates with caps and diplomas in hand. “Now they’re crossing the threshold. What you saw today was hope. That gets you a long way.”
Kari Lydersen is a contributing reporter at Canary Media who covers Illinois, Indiana, and Wisconsin.
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