For Magha Garcia, farming is how she honors her ancestors.
“Everything I learned about agriculture came through my great-grandparents, grandparents and parents,” she said. “These people worked so hard, and what they were paid for their crops was so little, it makes me really sad.”
Mama O is a wounded healer.
Her moment of greatest need intersected with the critical healing and support services provided by Black Women’s Blueprint, a civil and human rights organization specifically focused on the needs of Black women and girls since 2008. At 65 years of age, she is among the eldest survivors of sexual violence in the organization.
And now, she’s returning the gift.
Nearly two centuries after many of their ancestors were displaced from their native homelands in the southern United States, a group of Native Americans is preserving their language and traditions in a unique community in Alabama.
As June turned to July, Immanuel Presbyterian Church in Los Angeles needed a place to store food.
Its direct food service to people in need had skyrocketed from 120 households a week before the COVID-19 pandemic to more than 2,000 a week as the virus staged a resurgence in California that has resulted in it being the state with the most coronavirus infections in the country. Immanuel, in L.A.’s Mid-Wilshire/Koreatown area, was running out of space to keep food – at one point jerry-rigging cooling ducts in a hallway to create improvised, temporary cold storage. Then church leaders cast their eyes on its Westminster Chapel.
The Rev. Dr. Neichelle Guidry’s alma mater is Clark Atlanta University, where the motto — attributed to the ancient general Hannibal, who was once asked about the wisdom of crossing a mountain pass on elephants — is, “I shall find a way or make one.”