
Photo credits: Ariel Reyes Antuan and Jess Reyes Barton
Our collective response to COVID-19 has given us an opportunity to withdraw from the hectic pace of modern life and turn our attention inward to the self. This season of inward reflection has allowed many to rekindle creative connections. During this time, I have reflected upon how our culture’s predominant patriarchal and colonial structures and ways of thinking have created a distraction that disconnects us from ourselves, from others, from community, from the land.
As I contemplated the effects of such distraction and disconnection, I felt an internal fire—what the ancient Chinese called chi—flowing through my whole body, igniting me to do something simple to support our community: gardening. Learning about land stewardship and how to reconnect to the land showed me that my relationship with plants was not very well-nurtured. My partner, Jess, and I recognized that gardening was a way to heal our souls, and out of this recognition the Palenke Greens initiative was born.
Palenke Greens uses the African method of plotting burlap sacks to create vertical gardens. The idea to do this on Vancouver Island came out of conversations with Marie-Pierre Bilodeau, who leads REFARMERS, a nonprofit organization focused on permaculture projects in East Africa.
Through this process, we came to see more clearly the inequities in our current society, and more importantly in our food systems—how eating well is a privilege, and how many newcomers like me do not understand the art of gardening and management of this land. Jess and I felt so humbled and driven to raise consciousness around eating nutritious food; we felt a deep desire to equip others with tools for their own liberation journeys, specifically in households facing food insecurity, those who have been disproportionately impacted by the pandemic, and anyone who has an interest in growing food.

To accomplish our goal, we require engagement strategies at local, provincial, and federal levels through a myriad of vital avenues for change, including: direct action; direct service; pressure on elected officials for policy change; midwifing sovereignty from systems of harm; healing and transformative justice; education; media making; and collaborating with the earth to cultivate resilience.
Over summer and into fall, we drove more than three hundred kilometres around the Capital Regional District and provided accessible installation in thirty-five households. We prioritized the stories and voices of Black, local Indigenous, and other marginalized groups to centre them as key actors in vertical growing methods. We also realized the importance of involving younger generations, and we were able to give them the tools for food sovereignty while raising awareness around nutritious foods, land-based practices, and the cultural significance of Afro-Indigenous regenerative agriculture.
We’re so grateful for those who answered our call to inspire people in our community to do better and eat better. Together, we’re planting seeds of communal abundance while preparing the next generation for a more inclusive and sustainable future. Learn more and connect with us on Instagram: @iye.herstories


This article was originally published in print in January 2021.