On June 10th 2026, the Sembradores team came together to help our fellow Sembrador, Alejandro, on his land. It is exciting to be invited to a farmer’s land and hear their story of why and how they’ve been growing. Listening and watching as we worked brings the history to life and continues the herencia of querencia and childhood memories. Learning from each other and the farmers who came before is really something special.
We also got the chance to put our ideas and our hands to work. Alejandro had planted a cover crop, and it was so cool to see the process we have talked about put into action. The various pollinators dancing from flower to flower were loving it too! Together that day, the Sembradores planted a variety of seeds, including peas, watermelon, chile, and chard.
Please enjoy this beautiful reflection from Alejandro about his day with the Sembradores.
We called it “grandpa’s grass” growing up, a small 3 acre traditional Spanish Land Grant in La Puebla, New Mexico. My memory is filled with apple trees, wild asparagus, and alfalfa, mixed with various grasses that fed our sheep, goats and usually only a couple of cows a year. My father fell ill a few years back, and the orchard has been colonized by elm trees. The grass has been taken over by goat heads and all that remains of the livestock is dust and sand. Upon his passing, I felt called to bring the abundant and verdant land I remembered from my youth back to life. I also have memories of my grandmother as we walked together and as she pointed out different remedios and wild edibles all in a mixed tongue of Tewa and 15th century Castellano. These memories haunt me in my dreams as if the land of my ancestry is crying for help.
I was accepted into the Sembradores program this year to reconnect with this water and dirt and for guidance and counsel on the processes and traditions that will heal the earth. As well as to spark healing that will feed this community once again.
The Sembradores team of brilliant and passionate mentors is proof to me and my fellow alumnos that the knowledge is still there. It is found in small and unassuming pockets of cultural gold here in the enchanted hills of my youth. I was taken back in one instant when Donne picked up a scraggly spiked weed and showed all of us its medicinal and culinary properties. A light, reminding me of my grandmother lit up in my psyche. I realized at that moment with the acequia flowing beneath our feet, and the dense smell of soil and foliage wafting through the air, that the path to healing this land and our culture and maybe even our society is right here in the quelites and mycelium.
Having my fellow Sembradores hoeing the dirt, pulling the weeds and dropping the seeds, planted a hope, not just of a sprout or of a fruiting body, but maybe to have a future more accustomed to the wisdom of our past.
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