Liberation and the healing power of breaking free
I sunk the saved fingers of turmeric root into the tub of soil back in Winter. I waited weeks—as always.
No growth.
After more weeks a light dusting of white mold ghosts spots on the soil surface above the hidden root—as sometimes happens.
No growth.
I imagine the mold signifies rotting turmeric root below. I waited more weeks—this seems longer than last year.
No growth.
The danger of frost is past, and farm and plants are beginning to grow in Diaspora Gardens up here on Madeline Island off of Lake Superior’s southern shore.
I could use these large containers for something else. I could rehabilitate the soil for garden plantings. The morning I’m about to add “reclaim soil” to my to-do list, there it is: a thin sliver of green.
For a few years I’ve played with growing turmeric and ginger. Each year they surprise and teach me with their timing of life rising after a long below-the-surface rest and internal unfolding.
I consider this teaching as I wrap my soul and thoughts around the Juneteenth holiday and story. It is the story of the last enslaved people of African descent to learn, on June 19, 1865, in Galveston, Texas, of their emancipation—two and a half years after U.S. President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed their freedom.
Today, 161 years later, a range of emotions surfaces around the delayed notification.
There is celebration—celebration that freedom was more lived into. This is perhaps a truer Independence Day, if one adheres to Dr. King’s notion that none of us are free until all of us are free.
There is the grief and anger over living enslaved when one could have been living free … and even over those who died in the delay not ever knowing or living their freedom.
There is the grief and loss of being declared free, but lacking the resources, power, safety or systems to actually exist in what is labelled “freedom.” And there is the gratitude that a national holiday acknowledges Juneteenth’s significance.
But back to the slender turmeric stem. How it rises from what has existed and lived for months without my awareness makes me consider how liberation was in theory existing before it was visible, “enforced,” risen. Existing even prior to the announcement from a human mortal president (or before that a human created constitution) and the Union general in Galveston, Texas, on June 19, 1865.
The drum story presentation I used to offer to school children begins with the heartbeat of freedom, wholeness, and life moving in the universe before life as we know it existed—becoming embedded in each of us. Maybe it is still so in this world of humans and earth trapped by warfare, greed, poverty, addiction and more.
Perhaps liberation, wholeness, life are still moving and maturing where we cannot yet know or see. Perhaps these rise—sometimes explosively, sometimes quietly—in so many small sprigs. These sprigs hint at what could yet rise in more fullness.
My growing and sharing of food and medicine is a constant Juneteenth freedom act. I honor and re-live the liberation resolve of those newly emancipated ones. How they created free lives for themselves with businesses and sustenance grown from their expertise with soil, seed and the natural surroundings.
And my soil life holds the practice of believing in what happens in the unseen hidden places. I also consider the turmeric rhizome/root teaching as I sow new seeds with this deepened dedication to cultivating aspiring growers of healthy food and healthy communities.
For 15 years at our micro-farm life, Diaspora Gardens, we have mentored volunteers, interns and apprentices. As many know, most plants grow stronger and healthier with companion plants and mycelial threads planted and growing around them.
So these seeds (and spores) being started are for a vibrant supportive community of companions to strengthen the roots and growth of Diaspora Gardens. They will be rooted in regenerative land cultivation, business skills, cultural and community connection, low-impact life ways, and a model of fair and ethical work life. We truly believe that when we cultivate, empower, and support healing of our next generations who grow our food and grow our communities, we are rooting the future.
When we do this—especially with those most impacted by racism, marginalization and historical wounds—we reclaim and redeem the soil and seeds for tomorrow’s resilience and flourishing.
Regina M. Laroche is founder of Diaspora Gardens, a Land-Art-Spirit practice rooted in regenerative relationships with land, community and heritage. She engages farming, arts, mentoring and spiritual connection to repair, celebrate, and grow a future of justice and abundance. As the daughter of an Afro-Caribbean refugee and an African American sharecropper, a mother, sibling, and spouse, she is devoted to healing wounds of inequity and strengthening bonds of land, community, and ancestry.
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