04/28/2026
“Wherever we land, something good can still grow”
Seeds have always been more than food. They’re memory. They’re skill. They’re inheritance.
There are stories of West African women who braided rice into their hair before being forced across the Atlantic, carrying with them not just something to plant, but the knowledge of how to grow it. Agriculture in the Americas did not materialize by accident. It traveled in the minds, muscle memory, and lived experience of people who understood tides, floodplains, seasons, and soil long before they ever saw this land.
That part matters.
When we save seeds today, when we fold paper envelopes closed, label jars on basement shelves, or pass down a tomato variety that tastes like someone’s grandmother’s kitchen, we are participating in something ancient. We are choosing continuity in a world that often forgets where its food comes from.
Seeds have crossed oceans in braids and pockets. They’ve survived wars, displacement, greed, and industrialization. They have outlived empires. And still, they do what they’ve always done. Given the smallest chance — they grow.
That’s something seasoned gardeners understand. We hold a shovel in one hand and a palm full of hope in the other. We press tiny, unremarkable things into the soil and trust that something good will rise.
Every time we plant, we’re making the same quiet declaration those women once made.. Wherever we land, something good can still grow.
~ Paul Avellino
Paul Avellino
Art: Joséphine Klerks
josephineklerks.com
