BIPOC farmers in Conn. may be small in number, but they have plenty of stories to tell

One-third of Connecticut’s residents identify as people of color, but statistically, more than 98% of Connecticut’s farmers are white.

It’s a disparity rooted in generations of racism, unequal access to land and credit, and systemic discrimination.

But while their numbers are small, BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and people of color) farmers do exist in Connecticut.

All summer long, we are bringing you their stories through audio interviews and photographs, which will be posted here.

Listen to these farmers in their own words.

Xóchitl Garcia, 26

1 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

“Agriculture, for me, is reconnecting with our indigenous ancestors,” says Xóchitl Garcia, who farms land at the Ferry Street community garden in Fair Haven.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

2 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

In the weeds, Xóchitl Garcia clears her 4-by-8-foot plot of land in the Ferry Street community garden in Fair Haven, where there is a waitlist for 56 growing beds. “My parents themselves were farmworkers, but they just called it work,” says Garcia.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

3 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

Preparing to plant, Xóchitl Garcia breathes in the smell of epazote seeds. “Growing up,” she says, “my family made agriculture a taboo subject because it was a method of survival rather than a passion-seeking career.”

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

4 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

Hauling topsoil, Xóchitl Garcia moves through young plants at the Ferry Street community garden in Fair Haven, where there is a waitlist for 56 growing beds.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

5 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

Farm supervisor Billy Flynn and Xóchitl Garcia (left) share a laugh over tomato and pepper plants Flynn gifted Garcia for her plot in a Fair Haven community garden.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

6 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

Gently tapping the soil, Xóchitl Garcia nestles a tomato plant into a new bed at the Fair Haven community garden where she farms. “I actually feel very proud having dirt on me,” she said, “looking all sweaty and tired because this is all my passion and energy that's going into cultivating something."

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

7 of 7  — Xochitl Ahtziri Ferry Street Farm New Haven BIPOC

After planting her bed, Xóchitl Garcia hugs her friend Ruth Garcia, one of the founders of the Fair Haven community garden on Ferry Street.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

A woman explores how farming intersects with her Mexican identity while working at a community garden in New Haven. (Originally aired: 6/13/22)

Liz Guerra, 37 & Héctor Gerardo, 38

1 of 3  — BIPOC Farming

Héctor Gerardo backs his first tractor out of the garage, careful to avoid the family van.

Tyler Russell / Connecticut Public

2 of 3  — BIPOC Farming

Elizabeth Guerra and Héctor Gerardo look out over their homestead farm in Danbury.

Tyler Russell / Connecticut Public

3 of 3  — BIPOC Farming

Héctor Gerardo's garlic is coming in nicely now that squirrels have stopped eating it each night. The secret is a little cayenne pepper.

Tyler Russell / Connecticut Public

The co-owners of Seamarron Farmstead in Danbury want you to know that “Black farmers do exist and BIPOC farmers – in Connecticut.” They describe a farming journey that started on a New York City fire escape and led to their farm, where they grow everything from garlic to hemp in the backyard of their Connecticut homestead. (Originally aired: 6/6/22)

Sarah Rose Kareem, 29, & Azeem Zakir Kareem, 29

1 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 001

Azeem Zakir Kareem aligns irrigation pipes on land he farms with his wife Sarah Rose Kareem in Windsor Locks, Connecticut. Despite more one-third of Connecticut’s residents identifying as people of color, less than 2-percent are farmers.

Mark Mirko/Connecticut Public

2 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 002

Sarah Rose Kareem and Azeem Zakir Kareem harvest lettuce and clear footpaths on their Windsor Locks farm.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

3 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 003

Azeem Zakir Kareem hauls sprinkler heads from storage to a field he is preparing for planting. “In order to come back to where we have to be, not just as Black people, not just Native American people – but as a whole planet – we have to come back to agriculture,” said Kareem.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

4 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 004

Azeem Zakir Kareem brushes gently past his wife, Sarah Rose Kareem, while the two tend to lettuce rows at their Windsor Locks farm. “How I got started with agriculture,” said Kareem, “that was my wife.”

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

5 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 005

Water showers fresh-cut lettuce as Sarah Rose Kareem cleans the harvest on the Windsor Locks farm she manages with her husband, Azeem Zakir Kareem.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

6 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 006

Azeem Zakir Kareem sets up irrigation lines on the Windsor Locks land where he farms with wife Sarah Rose Kareem.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

7 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 007

Water showers fresh-cut lettuce as Sarah Rose Kareem cleans the harvest on the Windsor Locks farm she manages with her husband, Azeem Zakir Kareem.

Mark Mirko/Connecticut Public

8 of 8  — Sarah Rose Kareem & Azeem Zakir Kareem 008

Azeem Zakir Kareem jumps over a sprinkle pipe junction while preparing his fields for irrigation. “You start working in that soil, and there's things – there's biology inside the soil that sends a light signal through your nervous system that hits your brain, that has your brain release beautiful, joyous chemistry that makes you feel good,” said Kareem.

Mark Mirko / Connecticut Public

Speaking on a windy day outside their Windsor Locks farm, the married co-founders of Samad Gardens Initiative celebrate the freedom they’ve found farming, but they say customers at farmers markets treat them differently depending on who’s behind the stand.