Black Women Farmers Reclaim Land and Ancestral Roots

When African women were forced onto slave ships, they braided seeds of okra, rice, and black-eyed peas into their hair, determined that their food traditions would survive.

Today, their descendants are returning to the land on their own terms. Soul Fire Farm in upstate New York welcomes about two dozen people each week to learn ancestral farming practices, especially for Black, Indigenous, and people of color.

"A lot of folks don't realize that Black women grow the majority of the world's food, when you look at smallholder farms especially in Africa, Latin America and the Caribbean," says Leah Penniman, co-founder of Soul Fire Farm. The United Nations confirms women produce half the world's food, and up to 80 percent in developing countries.

Tour guide Hillary Gaeta walks participants through rows of mint, lemon balm, and oregano. She talks about grandmothers who look decades younger thanks to herbal remedies passed down through generations. "It's a way to pass down that knowledge," she laughs.

The farm sits on several acres of former Mohican land. Participants spend a few hours daily planting and harvesting, then dedicate the rest of their time to learning how their ancestors connected with soil and seed.

This relationship should never have been broken. After slavery ended in 1865, freed Black families were promised 40 acres and a mule. Within months, President Andrew Johnson returned that land to former enslavers.

Those who managed to acquire property later faced violence and legal manipulation that stripped away their holdings. "The land was the scene of the crime," fellow farmer Chris Bolden Newsome once told Penniman. Her response: "But the land was never the criminal."

The Ripple Effect

Soul Fire Farm charges participants between zero and $1,200 for a week of lodging, meals, and programming. The sliding scale ensures access for everyone, regardless of financial means.

The impact extends beyond individual healing. Women have long been stewards of land in pre-colonial West Africa, where groups like Ghana's Akan people and Mali's Tuareg passed property through maternal lines. By reconnecting with these traditions, participants carry forward wisdom that fed entire civilizations.

Paris Alston, a journalist who participated in the program, comes from a long line of sharecroppers, tenant farmers, herbalists, and healers. Her grandmother Cornelia Rodgers provided her earliest education in land stewardship through a simple garden.

As the U.S. marks its 250th birthday and another Juneteenth celebration, farms like Soul Fire are doing more than growing vegetables. They're cultivating healing, reclaiming heritage, and proving that the bond between Black women and the earth remains unbreakable.