Oral History Archive

Interviews

as part of Free the Land! Free the People!

a study of the abolitionist pod

Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod (September 21, 2024 - February 15, 2025), Installation view at Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Inglewood, CA. Courtesy of Crenshaw Dairy Mart. Photographed by Elon Schoenholz and Angel Xotlanihua.

Wow Flower project

Interview with Waunette Cullors

June 2023 | Antelope Valley, CA

|

WOW Flower Project

Oral History Archive Transcript

June 2023 at the WOW Flower Project

Makayla Howard (MH): In what year was the WOW Flower Project founded?

Waunette Cullors (WC): It was founded in 2016, and it was a combination of things that I like. I worked for Girl Scouts as a program director, and I also have been a pageant director. A 4-H leader, you know, a 4-H leader. I had a 4-H club here. I was the only African-American 4-H leader here. I had about 30 kids in my 4-H club. So I would combine 4-H scouting and pageantry. And that's what the Wow [Flower Project] is. And the Wow [Flower Project] is health and wellness through agriculture. It started out primarily with females, teaching them how to grow, how to cook, because it's like farm to table, and then, you know, 4-H, it's marksmanship, it's archery, it's table setting. Then pageantry. I had Miss Black Antelope Valley. I had Miss Latina A.V. and then I had Miss Gifted, which are special needs girls. So this is a space.  The WOW [Flower Project] is for everybody to flourish, but to learn how to be self-contained. You know, like grow your own foods, cook your own foods, things like that. That's kind of how it started. It's kind of a combination of things that I liked combined together.

ali reza (ar): Under what conditions and circumstances was the WOW Flower Project founded?

WC: Actually, I was working a full-time job and kind of came out of teaching in the classroom, wasn't really like what I wanted. I mean, I wanted to teach, but I didn't like how teaching is and - that just was a whole other story. But basically I was like, I want to do things fun. I want to do things with purpose. I want to do things that I enjoy. I want to, like, at the end of the day be tired because I did something that I enjoyed. I would say I want to create wow moments. I want to create memories. Even if it's a short memory, even if like just yesterday was just one day. I think that there's so many children that haven’t had wow moments in their lives. Here in the Antelope Valley, we have 70% of foster youth in L.A. County reside here. I think about those children and how I always want to create wild moments and how they probably don't have those moments. I actually look for those types of children to do programming for. How it was inspired is wanting to create an environment that I thought was great. I wanted to do these things for my children and then I found other children that didn't have those opportunities. So, that's how I kind of gathered from the 4-H and the Girl Scouts and the pageantry where Black girls, Latino girls weren't winning. It's like coaching them, giving them the skills to win. It's important to feel and to see people that look like you and represent you, and to feel that you're a winner - that you're perfectly made. That's kind of why I was inspired, is that I didn't see that happening in my community. I didn't see where children were feeling special and feeling like they could be anything that they wanted to be. I wanted to teach kids how to make biscuits from scratch, make their own preserve and sop it up - even though those are things people would think, you know, “Who wants to do that?” Everyone wants to eat, you know, and it's very rewarding to grow strawberries, make preserves, make a biscuit, make your butter and make the whole thing because in Girl Scouting we would make butter and would make things outdoors. It's like mixing of those things and being inspired. And it's kind of neat because people think it's brand new and it's not brand new. This has been going on, but I think it's brand new in the sense of them seeing it commercialized with children. I always would say this is what our ancestors did. It just makes me feel like I'm connecting with them. When I'm in the garden, that's how I feel, I'm connecting with my grandmother - she would be planning her garden. She would be pulling these okra’s off to cook for dinner. So it's really inspiring to grow, and I think it's making a different narrative of what people think growers are, or laborers, or people that grow. I do this because I want to do this. I do this because it tastes different when you grow with love, cook with love, prepare with love. I think that's how the whole pod is. It's like each aspect of it is with love and its intentions are to bring love. That was - I love being a part of the project and being like the oldest person, you know, I felt like a purpose. It also rekindled how I felt because, with technology, and all of this - people my age are not really tech people per se, unless that's their niche, but I felt there was a purpose for me there. Everyone's much younger, but I know how to grow. I mean I can grow anything, and they appreciated my suggestions and I brought something to it. Sometimes you can have all these smart people, you know, but you're sitting there like, “Do I fit in?” But I did fit in. And I felt like it was really much a family. And we were bringing something beautiful to the community.

MH: What are some contemporary spaces or organizations doing similar work?

WC: It's kind of funny. In community, I've seen people starting to do wellness and - it was previous to Covid - I remember you couldn’t buy seeds. I'm a seed keeper for this area as a master gardener, so I have thousands of seeds in the house. I was out there just planting - my whole tunnel was full of vegetables. I had corn, I had beans that were like ten and 12 feet [high]. All the way to the ceiling I had beans growing. During Covid it was kind of scary,because you could go to stores and there wasn’t food. There wasn’t produce. And that's when I was just like, “I'm gonna be over here.” I've got bagged up vegetables. I was growing vegetables. I grew over 300 pounds of potatoes. I felt I really have a purpose here, because people can't find produce, and guess who has, like, tons of produce here. My husband and I planted every single seed. There were no plants put in there. There were only seeds. I would say I'm a seed planter, because I like to plant those seeds with intention and purpose and abundance. You know, I want you guys to grow. It's like having conversation when you're doing it, and just kind of - you're laying hands with each seed when you're doing it. I was doing it before Covid. So when Covid hit, I was harvesting so much food. I was like, “What am I going to do with this?” It was great. It kind of just came out of what I wanted to do and having a purpose. I really feel like when I garden, I connect with my ancestors. I think about my grandparents that were in Mississippi and Tennessee. My grandmother is 98 years old. [She’ll] say, “I came over here. You got to get up and go and pick cotton.” “I'm not picking no cotton today!” She actually picked cotton. Not forced to. That was your side job. “I want to get some money, let me go pick cotton today.” She's like, “I would pick 200 pounds.” I'm like, “What?” So when I'm there and I'm growing, I think about three of my grandparents that I knew actually picked cotton. All of them had gardens. It's just - I feel like it's a connection, and it has a purpose and you get to control what goes into your food, which is really important now. Everyone now wants to be healthy, wants to be vegan, wants to have organic, want to have all these things. It's popular. Something that I've been doing. I guess this is my time.

ar: Are there other farmers you collaborate with in Antelope Valley?

WC: I would say there are few, but spread out. It's really hard to grow here. This actually used to be a vegetable place, but because of water - water is an issue. It's very expensive. [As a] USDA farmer, we [African-American farmers] are less than 1% of the nation, as a Black farmer. Here in the Antelope Valley, I think there's two others. [I’ve] just seen them at the Black Farmers Convention, maybe two months ago, but not really in regards to working together, because farmers are busy. [There’s] not really a lot of time as a farmer to just mingle. You know, they're growing. And they're [working with] hydroponic. People are going more [toward] the hydroponic farming. I'm old school - I'm hitting the soil, I'm not [using] raised beds. I'm just going like how my ancestor did. It feels it feels natural for me that way.

MH: Can you speak about what a Master Gardener is and how you became one? 

WC: So actually I would say [when] I grew up as a kid, my grandfather always had a garden. Always. It wasn't big, but it produced. My husband is the youngest of nine. He said they always had a garden. That was the only place they got vegetables from. He would laugh because I would always grow flowers because I like fresh flowers. He's like, “We only grew food,” you know? With my kids - and I had daycares - I always would teach kids how to grow. I thought it was really important for them to know that they could grow food. I mean, it sounds simple, but in teaching and teaching at schools, you ask kids, “Show me a peach, where does this come from?” They're [saying], “a can.” They don't even understand the concept of it being on a tree. They've never seen that. I was growing and I can grow. And I actually wanted to teach school gardening. I looked for a curriculum that I could use, [but] couldn't find what I was kind of looking for. So I wrote a curriculum, got it approved [with] the state of California, and it was voted into a school. I was excited. I started at my kids’ school. [They’re] all graduated and did the growing there. And since the district purchased it, it went to multiple schools. But I only have these two hands, so I had to hire additional master gardeners - so I hired master gardeners to go to all of these schools and to teach school gardening. Then I was like, “I need to be a master gardener,” because I'm just doing this off instinct. [There] was no education in reference to being a gardener. [The] Master Gardeners [Program] is through UC Davis cooperative through the State of California. In California, there is probably only about 400 Master Gardeners, [and] as African American it was like 40 currently in California. So it's about a six-month course. You go 8 hours a week and you learn all aspects of growing. Master gardeners are not like, “We know everything.”  The thing is, is we know how to find the answer. That's the key, because you could be growing in your backyard. I could be growing in my backyard, next door, it could be a whole different environment. It could be soil, it could be animals, could be snails. It could be too wet, it could be all these different things. It’s being able to find what works for that person. Master gardeners are like volunteers per se. They volunteer at farmer's markets and libraries - they used to be the people at the fair [that] grew the orchids and they had those on display. So, they are to be educators in community, as a master gardener. Usually, master gardeners are not paid. That's kind of how it is, and we're required to do so many volunteer hours a year. You can be paid. But, I'm saying that doesn't count towards being a master gardener’s hours. For me, the master gardener, I would say, is like a fluff. People want to hear Master Gardener, they want to see your credentials and all of those things. The USDA farmer part for me is more because it's like, “I'm a farmer.” I'm not just the master gardener. So as a USDA farmer, like two years ago - I guess whatever year was before Covid - I actually got the regional farmer for the USDA, which is a big deal because that's all the way up from Washington coming down Oregon, California and Hawaii. So I was the volunteer farmer -  it actually ended up [for] three years because COVID, they didn't have another one. So that was great. Then this last year at the Black Convention, I spoke as a Black farmer at the convention. Which for me was a highlight, being an African American woman farmer, and being Black, and being a different farmer, you know, there's different people that grow different things in different ways. For me, it's educating and informing children and community how they can empower others by food and in food deserts. I also use vegetables where there are people that get those boxes of food. I show them how to use garbanzo beans, use these different things and make healthy options at newly-housed communities. So, that's kind of a little bit about master gardening and farming, why I was inspired. And you sometimes need different credentials to do different things, different places.

ar: Can you speak about what it is like being a Black USDA farmer?

WC: Actually in the convention they talked about that. Because still Black farmers haven't got the assets - They haven't been able to get funding from the USDA. That's a known fact. It still is a problem. It's racism. You know, that's what it is. I happened to [stumble] upon a guy that was from Tennessee, a white guy, and at a convention. I asked, I said, are you from Tennessee? And he said, how did you know that? I said, I can kind of tell from the accent. I spent all my summers there. So I actually met him and I told him - I've come into the USDA office several times. I've been trying to get help and assistance. I want to get my tracking number, because you get [an] actual a farm. They come out, they track your land, how much space, how much is farmed? I turn in a tracking of what I grow, how much I make. It's like a whole census on your farming. And I couldn't get any feedback. I couldn't get anybody to come out. I couldn't get anybody to come for two, three years. I stumbled upon him and he was like super nice.

I was like, this is odd. I was like, he's a little nice, like a different nice, that was odd. And I was like, are you into Black girls? He's like, “Yeah, how’d you know?” That's how. I really believe that, because the Black people that are there, at the Black Convention, they have [200], 300 acres. They got generations [of farmers]. Most of them are from Fresno - generations of farmers. The USDA, they're still not doing right by Black people. I happen to kind of scoot in by kind of different ways. I met that guy that was a director of the USDA. I would be out in the community talking about the [WOW Flower Project]. And I said, I'll take your brochures with [me], because other people I had a hard time. Now that I'm in, I want to help others. So I started passing out USDA stuff when I was doing my things and I was bringing more people to them. So, I’m actually kind of like their poster child. They do videos here. That high tunnel was a grant. I got a grant for there. I also got a grant where I'm doing 100 trees that are coming in. I'm doing a wind block. They're paying for that. I just got a grant for irrigation. Once you get in - I kind of was pushy in a way, but a sweet way - I was like, we're really underserved.

My ancestors did this. There's no one here - and I love rural, but I flip from rural to urban, going back and forth with the grant and seeking it. There's different people. But it's very difficult to navigate. It's very difficult to get funding. I even got some Covid relief grant.

They just contacted me, “How are you doing?” I'm like, “It's kind of difficult, because I don't have water. I can't get help.” And they're like, “Oh, okay, fill this paper out.” I was like, sure, you know? I was shocked that I actually got some funding. But I'm telling you, three years that I spent - and some people say three years is not a lot - but three years constantly trying to advocate, to get funding, to get a tracking number, to be a farmer. It was really hard.

But, now that I'm in, it's kind of - you work with them. They're like, not in their defense, but the staff, it’s not a lot of people want to work in farming. Most of the people that work here for the USDA are like from Louisiana, Texas, Tennessee.They're from the South, because they come here because it's more money. They asked me, “Do you know anybody that would want to work?” Because, they're looking for Black people. It's been all white people. They've kicked out all the racist ones, not all of them, but they got to get equitable staffing in there.

So, I basically straight shoot. I'm like, “That person was racist. I had a talk with them, this or that.” In [their] office, and they're like, “Oh God, here she comes.” You have to know how to advocate. They'll say, like, “We have funding for this and this and this, but you should be nice to the people you talk to.” I'm like, what? So that's telling me that some people are not getting things just because they don't like them for certain reasons. So, it's difficult to be a farmer with a tracking number and to get funding and help. Because, even they have these grants, they'll tell you, I'm giving you $1,000,000 as a farmer, but you got to put up your $500,000 and we'll reimburse you. Who has $500,000 to do that? Right now, I'm doing a USDA grant for refrigeration. It started out - I was thinking - I can get a refrigerator (or) freezer out there. So, when I pull produce, it can chill, and I can actually take it to market because it will pull. Well, my grant writer went out and said, “I want to show you something here.” So actually, I'm actually getting a food truck, so it would be veggies on wheels, so like salads and wraps, and things like that. And I'm getting a grant for it, but she found it. But, I'm saying as an African-American, unless you know someone that knows how to navigate a grant that's [200], 300 pages, who knows how to do that? You can't get the funding, and they don't have people to assist you in getting the funding. Meaning a grant writer. I’m like, “Do you guys have a grant writer?” “Do you have someone that can explain this to me?” “Can you help me?” Because 300 pages is that's like a whole Bible in a grant and it's a federal grant. It's not an easy concept that I can tell you what I want to do - how to do it - it’s very difficult. So, I have a grant writer that's on the East Coast that specializes in this type of thing, and she's like, “This one's really - you're going to put money up - you going to do this.” That's not easy for anyone. But you're jumping through hoops to be a farmer. And they actually pay you not to grow. I'm like, “Hmm, that's weird.” Then that controls who's growing what, and they can make genetically modified foods. I grew watermelons last year, and soon as they grow, they were already sold. I'm writing the name on them, and that's their watermelon. Because, most of the watermelons you buy have no seeds. Those are genetically modified - and [you] don't want to eat things that can't reproduce themselves. Then that means they're not bringing any nutrition to you as well. So, it’s interesting. It’s interesting about farming and the whole dynamics of that. When you’re going places and you hear all these other farmers. I walk in with pride. My ancestors grew everything here. We were the ones running this country. We brought our own seeds from Africa and started growing here. So we have a place here, we belong here. But it’s very hard. Like I said, we’re less than 1% in the nation.

MH: Describe the effects Covid-19 Pandemic on your programming 

WC: So, for the Wow [Flower Project], you couldn’t be in person. And I’m an in-person person, in wanting to teach kids. Everyone was afraid and fearful. I didn’t have any programming. I couldn’t do programming. So I was just planting. Just planting. That’s all that I could do. But people didn’t feel comfortable with bringing their kids or people didn’t feel comfortable even as adults. But, what was neat - I needed a connection with people. Not having people that long! And so, I became a program garden director for a newly housed community out here that had 300 newly housed people. And I did eight gardens there. And it was great - people were like, “Aren’t you afraid because it’s Covid?” I’m like, “I’m outside. I have a mask. We’re all outside.” And they were happy because they had no programming either. Everybody was locked in. So, I called them garden parties. I would come in, I’d put my jazz on in the area. And they’re like, “I knew you was here! We heard the music!” And I would do that because it’s so many different people, they like different things, but jazz was soothing and relaxing and I would do the grill because every one of these had barbecue grills. So I would do baked potato bars, I would do asparagus, because I was trying to introduce people to different vegetables. And you have to realize, they’ve been living in encampments and outside. They’re not eating vegetables - but showing them how to do different things, even with the stuff that they receive. So sometimes, I would grill salmon and they were like, “I haven’t had this in a long time.” Just like doing different vegetables. So it was fun to do like zucchini on the grill. Make salads with different herbs. It was rewarding because they would say, “You're thinking about us, no one's here. Because everything was cut down.” So, I did it all the way through Covid - I would hop through every garden and plant different things, every garden there had food except for one. They wanted all flowers. But, flowers are rewarding too, because the ladies would come and they would cut bouquets and have fresh flowers in their homes. It was really nice, because that's a community that's forgotten about in the sense of just showing nutrition, showing fellowship. I had birthday parties with them, and people were like, “I didn't even know my neighbor.” Like, this was different, like because we came out here. It's like food brings community as well.

ar: Can talk about your collaboration with the Crenshaw Dairy Mart and the abolitionist pod project?

WC: So my part was to get the plants and my assignment was to find Black farmers. I was like, “Okay, how do I find Black farmers?” You know? In the master gardener world, I put out a flier like, “I want BIPOC Black farmers,” and they were like, “We can't flyer that.” And I was like, “Why?” “Well, we can't just have singled out to that demographic.” So, it was like combing to try to find Black farmers. Which is really cool. I actually went out and met everyone that was a Black farmer that I could find in L.A., because here is too far to be bringing [plants] - I brought some plants, but it was really difficult. So, finding Black farmers in L.A., in Inglewood, in Leimert Park, and going to their farms, because people think you have to have a farm like tons of acres, you can have a regular house and get the tracking number, and you’re [an] actual farm. Meeting farmers, seeing their gardens, building relationships. What was great is being commissioned to get plants, and to go and meet a farmer and they show you their garden - every gardener is prideful, they love their garden. They want to show you that this is my peach, this my chicken. I felt like a fairy in the sense that I could come in and say, “Ima buy everything.” And they're like, “What?” I'm like, “I'm going to buy all your plants.” That was nice. To buy all their plants. Also, trying to get them to come and plant. So, with the first [abolitionist pod] we had like - I mean, maybe 20 black farmers come and bring plants from their gardens and they all came and we planted it. It was beautiful. We were like, “This is utopia”, all of us are Black. We grew these plants. We're planting them with intentions for people to see. And, we bonded, we made friends, we built relationships. I didn't know any of these people. I knew a few - around five Black farmers from a Master Gardeners program. But, it built a camaraderie where we [never] had that, because everybody goes to their place and they grow. In school you see each other. But once you’ve graduated, you may see each other on a training or something like that. So it was beautiful to do that. And that was at the [MOCA], right? Yeah.

MH: What collaborations have come from the relationship built through this Black farmers network?

WC: Most definitely, because we actually talked about doing a lot of things together. I've spoke at some of the farmers’ [spaces]. They've come to my things. So we've interchanged each other doing educational parts. We go to each others’ [spaces] and plant, grow together - do social things together. One of the guys we had, he taught a class, he passed away, and it was sad because I had talked to him that week before and I just called his phone and left messages, even though I knew that it just happened. Then the wife said, “I seen your messages. Thank you.” Because he was awesome. He was great. He was that positive light. He made his juices. And you know what was great about Black farmers is that in some things there's competitiveness. It wasn't that. We all could ask each other. We all traded seeds. We'll go to different houses. See each other's plants. It was just my people. That's what it was like, because it was really a great experience. I missed it, you know, I missed it. The second [abolitionist pod] was a little bit different. It was a lot of restrictions in reference to being free to just come in and out. The first one, we were there late. We're having fun. We're eating - people walking in off the streets. This one was for the people that lived in that community. But, it was great in the sense that we thought this is really going to be tranquil for them. This is going to be medicine, this is going to be a place where they can come and feel like they're somewhere else. We were centered near the prison, the jail, the train. You know, it's like a lot of world going on. But when you were right there, just the aroma of smelling the herbs I thought was really healing. I did do a medicine-making class there and giving them tips - like this will help you sleep. This will wake you up. This will make you feel better. And how they all connected with family members. “I remember being with my tía. I remember when my grandfather, or my grandmother,” and that makes positive and rewarding memories that you have from childhood. Even if it's cutting a watermelon, sitting on the porch with your grandparents. It brought those memories. And, a lot of times with trauma that they have, they don't have a lot of time to think about positive fun things. And gardening always brings back that, because that's food and we enjoy food. And you think about those stories and those memories. So it's a beautiful relationship. Like I said, for me, it made me feel like I was a part of a different community because I live way out here. I was with much younger people. I was with people that were abolitionists and really cared and wanted to make a difference. And that's very impactful for me. I think it's important - whatever you do, you want to leave it better. You want to make it a great memory and it's rewarding and it lives on. Once you teach someone how to grow, you can't un-teach it. They know they can do it themselves, depending on where their soil is. It was a great experience. I'm looking forward to our third [abolitionist pod]. So my part - doing plants. I'm excited. I'm excited to come up with new ideas, new shapes.

ar: Can you share more about your medicine-making workshop at the abolitionist pod at the Hilda L. Solis Care First Village?

WC: For me, we talked about it being a library and a grocery store where you can go in. You realize you could use this leaf and chew it, and it makes your stomach feel better. Or, if you had upset stomach, you could do something else - you could pull from that. I think it's giving people tools to succeed. And for them it was new to learn about it, but they could come back and say, “This is the mint she showed me, this is the aloe vera, this is the chamomile or this is that.”  You know, so you're teaching them to be able to identify those herbs, those plants. Some people would say, “I come here in the night, you know, I come sit in here, it's quiet. I feel secure, I feel comfortable, I feel guarded.” It just is a really sacred space. The first [abolitionist pod] we did yoga, we did meditation. We did a lot of things - they probably did them at the second [abolitionist pod]. I wasn't there as much. But it was a space where everyone talked about what they would use that space for. You know, I was like -  “I would sleep in here, I would meditate in here, I would pray in here.” So it was creating a space just on the street that you could switch everything up. It was a really sacred space and I think it’s very beneficial. And, the goal is to put those in multiple places. I could see how that would be beneficial in schools and prisons and communities - just a place to be free, a place to feel serene,a place to clear your mind - and the aroma helps.

MH: Can you speak to the process of collaboration in your work, seen in your process of working with Black farmers across the county, working as a master gardener, and with the WOW Flower Project. How do you keep collaboration alive in your work and in this organization? 

WC: So I would say in my model of organizing, I think I came to the Crenshaw [Dairy] Mart because I'm an activist as well. I am a founder and I sit now as a program director for Cancel the Contract. Cancel the Contract is a coalition here in the Antelope Valley, where we are removing L.A. County Sheriffs from our schools. Currently they're getting $1.9 million to be in six of our schools. We just turned two in March and we're doing really good actually. We do protests - we go to meetings. We've gotten rid of one of our superintendents over [at] the high schools. We're working diligently to talk about the trauma that happens with our children in schools. Like I said, 70% of foster youth are here - trying to use it in every seat, every angle to help with that. The collaboration part is important because all of it is full circle. There is a pipeline to prison from these schools and we're seeing 86% of Black youth that come encounter with Sheriffs are arrested in schools. So, growing is important because it's therapeutic. It's important to feed healthy foods to them. The collaboration between teaching, and I actually am a board of trustee for a school district. So in my district we don't have police there. So, it's like working in collaboration with districts, trying to get them to understand we need to infuse love - we need to have counseling, we need to have therapy, we need to have yoga, we need to have meditation, we need to have gardening. We need to have kids that see you seeing them love them, and spending time outside. Yesterday we had Tranquility Camp. Tranquility Camp - we had 70 children. We had about 30 kids that were foster youth. We asked for the kids to come that can be wild. The kids were able to have yoga - they were having camel rides, pony rides. We had a whole petting zoo about 30 other animals besides ours here. It is a collaboration. It's a collaboration with community and a variety of organizations that do health and wellness. I collaborate with other organizations, especially Black organizations. I do a Black maternal health event every year, and it's all - you know, people like, “You're all over here.” No, it's not. It’s making sure Black kids thrive. Make sure they’re born, they’re healthy, they can go to school. They're not being combatted with sheriff and police, you know, making sure we stop the pipeline to prison as well. We want them to thrive. We want them to get out of school and have a good job, a good career, whatever it is that they want. But, they can't get that if they're arrested. They can't get that if they're in foster care. So it's being an advocate. As the WOW - we work with Department of Children's Services, we work with CASA, I work with school districts, and I look for children to give them an experience, you know, take them on. I call them educational tours where we do museums, we do the beach, but we do dining because it's all with the food - seeing how it's prepared culturally different, different places. Collaboration is important because that's how you grow, that's how you get Wow’ed - for kids to try something different and new and it gets them to have a memory that, you know,  “I can potatoes more than french fries.” You can have it scalloped, you can have it baked... all these things. All of this is working together to make change, systematic change in all aspects of it, because  it's important for me. That's why I work with children - it’s that I want them to see something different. They have an opportunity to grow; differently. It's hard to work with older people that don't see anything differently - having police in schools on a regular day. Getting kids to see that we can police ourselves.

We can love ourselves and we can train up our own kids. So collaboration for me - I work with educators in a job, you know, and I'm an activist. I will come up and I will protest at your school as well, and send people there. But it's all in love. It's all in the purpose of making community and mankind better. I think our kids deserve to have that. So for me, in the WOW it is a collaboration with all types of different entities that want to do well, want to do better for our kids.

ar: What vision do you hold for WOW Flower Projects and future collaborations with the Crenshaw Dairy Mart?

WC: What I would like to do moving forward is put together some camps. I used to do camps for Girl Scouts, and they're like abolitionist camp. You come for a week and you learn how to grow. You do a walking stick, you go hiking, you learn how to cook some things, you do some solar cooking, you do some cooking in the kitchen - but you learn how to do meditation. What happens is - especially Black boys, and now it’s Black girls, are sent to Special Ed, or they supposedly have issues with listening, but showing them how to control their self, learning how they could bring meditation and breathing - and alter those thoughts where our kids could thrive. And finding ways of diversion in our schools for our children would be something that I'm going in the direction of - is when I get a kid and they say, this kid has an issue and I spend all day with that kid. I have that kid come here, and we work, we grow, we plan, we eat, and we talk. [It’s] that [they’re] just misunderstood. Or they just don't have anyone listening to them. That's where I'm going to be moving more in - like diversion in schools and alternatives, trying to find possibilities of getting police out of schools. It comes from trying to educate voters to say when you're voting for people in school boards, these are the people that are making decisions for your children. Are they really making decisions for your children? If your schools predominantly Black and brown, are those parents showing up - educating parents to show up, you have a voice. That would be where the WOW [Flower Project] is going. We want to continue to inform and educate, that's for sure. But it’s to build advocacy and build advocacy in community with organizations. To get them to be educated. To reimagine something different, reimagine not having police mentoring our children. It’s what I believe. It’s sad to see. For the Black maternal health that came about some years back in a meeting and seeing how Black babies are dying. It just hurt me, really hurt me. Because being a mother for me was just the most beautiful thing. I was an only child. I felt like this is a gift, and I have this gift and I want to be present. But, to know that we can't be born healthy. We can't go to school without police. We’re being handcuffed. Our bags are being searched. Are you trying to arrest me and take my kid directly to juvenile hall or to jail? It’s like altogether, as a mom, - we mother the earth and these are our babies. These are our seeds. That's like why it's important to seed and to harvest and to weed, you know, to thrive. People think it's all over. No, this all connects together. It all works together. It's a beautiful symmetry. I want to always be included because I think it's important to have all of those ages in there as well. I like to have gardens where I tell kids to bring your grandmother or your grandfather because they have that experience, they have that lived knowledge, and they also share with you recipes and quotes and scriptures. That's who we have to continue to keep. Is keep all of those ages together because it's all together. It's a beautiful thing when you do that.

MH: Can you share in your own words the relationship between abolition and agriculture?

WC: You know, I always tell people it's our birthright. It's our birthright to be free. It's our birthright to have my children be born free and to thrive in all aspects of it. It is full circle. I look at it and I think, “My work is not done.” My husband's retired. He’s like, “I thought you was going to be here with me.” I was like, “There's too much work to be done.” You know, there's too much work to be done. But I think it's important for us to acknowledge where there is wrong, or where there is change needed and to continue to work on that change. It is from something people think is small. And food is not small. It's important to show, create, and continue to instill in community that you're free to grow your own food. You're free to walk the earth. You're free to live in peace. You're free to not be harassed and to be caged. We're not made to be caged. All of this is the same in growing your food free. Being able to pop up a pod, and grow in a place that doesn’t have soil. So I think, in full circle, it all goes together. It all marries together and I think for this to thrive is always bringing people that live this life. This is not brand new, like I said, everyone [during] Covid, “Oh, I'm going to be a gardener now.” I'm not saying - it's great to do that. I was already doing it. I feel good when I'm in the garden. I want to be barefoot. I want to get grounded. I want to drink out the water hose. I want to just be who I'm born to be. I think a lot of us are too boujie now to do it. But, it feels great. It feels great. It feels freeing. It feels like this is what I was created to do. I’m thankful for being in this place at this time, and being able to give people those tools to succeed in freedom, in food, in fun.

Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod (September 21, 2024 - February 15, 2025), Installation view at Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Inglewood, CA. Courtesy of Crenshaw Dairy Mart. Photographed by Elon Schoenholz and Angel Xotlanihua.

Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod (September 21, 2024 - February 15, 2025), Installation view at Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Inglewood, CA. Courtesy of Crenshaw Dairy Mart. Photographed by Elon Schoenholz and Angel Xotlanihua.

Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod (September 21, 2024 - February 15, 2025), Installation view at Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Inglewood, CA. Courtesy of Crenshaw Dairy Mart. Photographed by Elon Schoenholz and Angel Xotlanihua.

Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod (September 21, 2024 - February 15, 2025), Installation view at Crenshaw Dairy Mart, Inglewood, CA. Courtesy of Crenshaw Dairy Mart. Photographed by Elon Schoenholz and Angel Xotlanihua.

Gallery Open

Thursdays - Sundays

11:30 AM - 3:30 PM

On view September 21, 2024 through February 15, 2025

Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod is organized as a survey and studio of the Crenshaw Dairy Mart artist collective’s ongoing research for the abolitionist pod, autonomously irrigated, solar-powered gardens within modular geodesic domes built with communities impacted by food insecurity, housing insecurity, and the prison industrial complex. The exhibition falls in conjunction with the artist collective’s year of programmed study and research, entitled Imagination Year, collating ongoing illustrations, archival documentation, architectural renderings, sketches, and drawings of the collective’s many configurations of the geodesic structure during its prototype phases as the year-long curriculum engages with a history of collectives and cooperatives at the interstices of food justice, land sovereignty, and the Black Liberation Movement.

The exhibition coincides with a concurrent resource and larger oral history archive indexing the networked Black farmers, gardeners, and Black-led organizations across Los Angeles county with whom Crenshaw Dairy Mart has collaborated with on the abolitionist pod, traversing contemporary movements towards alternative permacultures, which include localized, small-scale farming and micro-farming as models for community care, community safety, and economic autonomy within the larger contemporary abolitionist movement.

Free the Land! Free the People! a study of the abolitionist pod is among more than 60 exhibitions and programs presented as part of PST ART. Returning in September 2024 with its latest edition, PST ART: Art & Science Collide, this landmark regional event explores the intersections of art and science, both past and present. PST ART is presented by Getty. For more information about PST ART: Art & Science Collide, please visit pst.art