“There will be moments when you feel behind or isolated, especially as a woman in this field. When that happens, return to the land. Let it anchor you in who you are and why you started.”
STRIB Flowers and Herbs Ancestral Farm — Bowie MD
What inspired you to pursue a career in agriculture, and what keeps you passionate about it today?
I was inspired to pursue a career in agriculture through both ancestry and necessity. Long before I had land or formal training, I had a deep pull toward plants, soil, and growing food—something I now understand as ancestral memory. As a child, I dreamed of gardening, baking, and having a farm. As a young mother navigating homelessness, trauma, and mental health challenges, the earth became my refuge. Working with soil quite literally saved my life. I began with flowers, then herbs, then vegetables and fruits—learning that growing food was not just about survival, but about healing, sovereignty, and restoration. Agriculture gave me a way to care for my family when systems failed us, and to reclaim Black farming traditions that were interrupted but never erased. What keeps me passionate today is watching that healing ripple outward. Seeing children grow food and gain confidence, families reconnect with cooking and wellness, and communities remember that we come from growers. Farming reminds me daily that regeneration—of land, people, and legacy—is always possible.
What is the biggest challenge you've faced as a woman in farming, and how did you overcome it?
My biggest challenge as a woman in farming has been getting here without a safety net. I did not come into agriculture with inherited land, startup capital, or family support. I came as a formerly homeless teenager, a teen single mother living in poverty, carrying unresolved childhood trauma while trying to survive adulthood. Before farming became my purpose, I worked corporate jobs that undervalued my labor, paid me inequitably, and placed constant pressure on me as a single parent. I was expected to perform at high levels while navigating childcare, exhaustion, and grief—often without grace or understanding. The stress eventually caught up to me, and my body and mind forced me to pause. Using FMLA was not weakness; it was survival. Therapy allowed me to confront trauma spanning from childhood to adulthood and gave me language for what I had been carrying alone for so long. During that healing, I returned to the soil. Farming gave me space to breathe, to rebuild trust with myself, and to reclaim my worth outside of productivity and profit. I overcame these challenges by choosing healing over hustle, purpose over pressure, and regeneration over burnout. Agriculture became not just my livelihood, but my liberation—proof that even from scarcity, something nourishing can grow.
Are you a first-generation farmer, or are you carrying on a family legacy?
I'm a 1st generation 5th Regenerational Baker and Farmer
What is one piece of advice you would give to the next generation of young women entering the agricultural field?
One piece of advice I would give to the next generation of young women entering agriculture is to follow your dreams, even when they don't make sense to anyone else—and learn to listen to the silent noise. Agriculture will ask you to slow down in a world that rewards constant motion. You will have to step away from societal norms that tell you success only looks like titles, income, or overworking yourself. When you remove yourself from that noise, you create space to hear your own intuition. Nature teaches grounding in a way no institution can. The soil will remind you to be patient. Seeds will teach you trust. Seasons will show you that rest is not failure—it's preparation. There will be moments when you feel behind or isolated, especially as a woman in this field. When that happens, return to the land. Let it anchor you in who you are and why you started. Your path does not need to be linear or validated by others to be worthy. If you stay rooted in purpose, honor your healing, and move in alignment with nature, you will grow something lasting—within yourself and for those who come after you.
What is the most rewarding part of your day-to-day life on the farm?
The most rewarding part of my day-to-day life on the farm is providing food sovereignty ancestrally for my family and my community. There is something deeply sacred about planting a seed, tending it with intention, and knowing that what we harvest will nourish the people I love—free from harm, shortcuts, or compromise. Every meal grown from our land is an act of protection, remembrance, and resistance. Farming allows me to honor those who came before me—ancestors who worked the land under conditions they did not choose, yet still carried knowledge, resilience, and reverence for the earth. Today, I farm by choice, by calling, and with purpose. I get to rewrite that story into one of autonomy, healing, and abundance. Watching my children eat food they've helped grow, seeing neighbors reconnect with fresh, culturally rooted nourishment, and knowing our community is less dependent on broken systems—that is the reward. Each day on the farm affirms that sovereignty is not just political or economic; it is spiritual. It is love made visible through soil, seed, and sustenance.
