Seeds And Their People - EP. 40: Lana Mustafa's Roots of Resilience in Palestine and the Diaspora

Episode Date: January 30, 2026

Lana is a Palestinian-American farmer and the Executive Director of Montclair Community Farms, where she leads urban agriculture, food access, and environmental education initiatives in northern New Jersey, and she is the founder of Roots Of Resilience, a Mutual Aid organization dedicated to supporting farmers in the West Bank. A lifelong grower, Lana began gardening at the age of seven and now stewards a homestead in Clifton with her 3 children,  where she grows food, saves seeds, keeps bees, and raises backyard chickens. Her work centers seed sovereignty, land justice, and preserving culturally significant crops, with a deep commitment to supporting farmers and all land workers. Lana and I met at the Making Brooklyn Bloom conference in 2018 where Chris and I were presenting a couple workshops on seeds focused on stories of liberation. We became friends and collaborators, and I’m excited to say Lana and I will be presenting together tomorrow morning, January 31st, at the NOFA-NJ winter conference in Asbury Park about Truelove Seeds, thanks to Lana’s invitation as both a NOFA-NJ board member and grower for the Truelove Seeds catalog.  We conducted this interview on November 19th, 2025 starting at Lana’s kitchen table in Clifton, New Jersey. After a sweet stop to Yaffa Coffee and Ku-NAH-fah in Little Palestine, we ended up at City Green Farm Eco-Center where they give her space to grow a couple impressive rows of Bamyeh, Palestinian Okra for their CSA and for seed, which she splits between the Palestine Heirloom Seed Library and Truelove Seeds. SEED STORIES:  Bamyeh Falastinia Okra Filfil Gazawi (Gazan Peppers) Olive harvest Palestinian Za'atar Freekeh (Wheat) Maramiyeh Sage Night Blooming Jasmine Reyhan Basil LINKS: Lana Mustafa's website and instagram Roots of Resilience website and instagram Montclair Community Farms website and instagram Seeds and Their People EP. 38: Vivien Sansour on Palestinian Seeds, Longing, and Love Seeds and Their People EP. 36: Preserving Seeds, Culture, and Farming Traditions of Battir, Palestine Seeds and Their People EP. 9: Anan Jardali Zahr’s Palestinian Kitchen   THIS EPISODE SUPPORTED BY: YOU! Please become a Patron for $1 or more a month at Patreon.com/trueloveseeds Scribe Video Center and WPEB, West Philly Community Radio ABOUT: Seeds And Their People is a radio show where we feature seed stories told by the people who truly love them. Hosted by Owen Taylor of Truelove Seeds and Chris Bolden-Newsome of Sankofa Community Farm at Bartram’s Garden. trueloveseeds.com/blogs/satpradio   FIND OWEN HERE: Truelove Seeds Facebook  |  Instagram  |  Twitter   FIND CHRIS HERE: Sankofa Community Farm at Bartram’s Garden  

I was just whacking it normal. Welcome to Seeds and their people. I'm Chris Bolden-Nusom, farmer and co-director of Sankofa Community Farm at Bartram's Garden in sunny Southwest Philadelphia. And I'm Owen Taylor, seedkeeper and farmer at True Love Seeds. We're a seed company offering ancestral seeds grown by farmers who preserve their beloved tastes of home for their diasporas and beyond

through keeping seeds and their stories in community. This podcast is supported by True Love Seeds and by our listeners. Thank you so much to our Patreon members who support this podcast for as little as $1 a month. You too could sign up at patreon.com slash true love seeds. This episode features an interview with Lana Mustafa. Lana is a Palestinian-American farmer and the executive director of Montclair Community Farms, where she leads urban agriculture, food access, and environmental education initiatives in northern New Jersey, and she's the founder of Roots of Resilience, a mutual aid organization dedicated to supporting farmers in the West Bank.

A lifelong grower, Lana began gardening at the age of seven, and now stewards a homestead in Clifton, with her three children, where she grows food, save seeds, keeps bees, and raises backyard chickens. Her work centers seed sovereignty, land justice, and preserving culturally significant crops, with a deep commitment to supporting farmers and all land workers. Lana and I met at the Making Brooklyn Bloom Conference in 2018, where Chris and I were presenting a couple workshops on seeds focused on stories of liberation. We became friends and collaborators, and I'm excited to say Lana and I will be presenting together tomorrow morning, January 31st, 2026, at the Nofo, New Jersey Winter Conference in Asbury Park about True Love Seeds. Thanks to Lana's invitation as both a Nofa, New Jersey board member and a grower for the True Love Seeds catalog.

We conducted this interview on November 19, 2025, starting at Lana's kitchen table in a group. Clifton, New Jersey. After a sweet stop to Yaffa, coffee, and Kunaffa in Little Palestine, we ended up at City Green Farm Eco Center, where they give her space to grow a couple impressive rows of Bamye, a Palestinian okra, for their CSA and for seed, which she splits between the Palestine heirloom seed library and true love seeds. If you haven't already, please also listen to our interview with Vivian Sansour, who gets a shout out in Lana's story. and who founded the Palestine heirloom seed library. I'll put a link to that in the show notes,

along with links to Lana's work and seed stories. Okay, transporting you to a kitchen table where we are sitting in front of an overflowing plate of gaza and pepper seeds, surrounded by plants of Palestine, and near a curious rabbit named Muffy. Hello, and thanks for having me in your home, and I'm really excited for this interview

after all these years of knowing each other and we'd love to start with you just introducing yourself however you'd like the world to you know who you are where we are right now and so on well thank you for this opportunity and welcome to my home my name is Lana Mustafa I am a Palestinian American urban farmer mother of three I am also the executive director of Montclair Community Farms which is a food access urban farming nonprofit and the founder of Roots of Resilience, which is a mutual aid organization dedicated to supporting farmers in the West Bank. Awesome.

Thank you. I've listened to a couple interviews with you, and it goes back to kind of your childhood and gardening, but I want to go back generations first if you'd be willing to share kind of, because you're in diaspora, a little bit of... the story of how you got here before we dive into your life? So my family comes from a really small village in the West Bank. It's called Mochmas. Historically, we were a farming village. So farming is not too far away from my lineage. My grandfathers were both shepherd farmers. My family were sustenance farmers. So whatever they grew, they ate. My great-grandmother, these are some

stories that I actually learned this time around, shockingly, gave birth to two children in her wheat fields, not one, but two, gave birth in the middle of harvesting, put the baby down, went back to harvesting, and carried her bushel and her baby home. So farming is very near and dear to my heart. My grandparents are still very much connected. They're retired now, but still very much connected to the land, very much connected to the olive trees, and just planted the seed of love for this earth and love for land, maybe specifically Palestinian land, but as somebody in the diaspora, I've definitely carried that love over and planted those seeds here in New Jersey. Wow. Can you paint the picture of your ancestral village a little more?

and the farms that your grandparents are from, especially that you've been able to keep connection there. You can actually see them with your own eyes and feel them with your hands. So our village, Mokhmas, is, it's pretty special, honestly. It's nestled between humongous valleys and huge mountains, but also beautiful olive groves, like hundreds of thousands of olive groves,

surrounding the village, almost creating a buffer of sorts. In certain parts of the village, there are valleys that are very leveled and flat and have really great soil. So historically, our village people would plant there. They would grow things like cucumbers, wheat, tomato, eggplant, pretty much everything that the community needed to survive. They would store their grains. They would pickle, dry, do everything that they can to preserve the harvest. They were shepherds, so they had access to goat milk, cheese, and some of our own culturally relevant foods, and pretty much is the same way.

I would say now, though many other people from our village are now living here, majority of the population has migrated because of the economy and just the difficulties of living in Palestine right now. But I was there this season, and people are very much still connected to the land. I was there for the olive harvest, and that was a celebration to be had, one that I hadn't experienced since childhood. And it was amazing to just be in the fields amongst people that care so deeply for the land, the trees, the air, the water, and honestly, just value life. What are your memories of the olive harvest as a child? That's a great one.

So I actually lived in Palestine for a good portion of my life. I was there before the second Intifada, so 98, 99, 2000, that era. And I remember coming home from school one day and my uncle, you know, coming to pick us up, putting all of his kids and all of my siblings in the back of a pickup truck and being dropped, just straight up dropped into the olive groves. Like here's your sacks. Here are the trees. Pick as much as you can.

I remember harvesting, I was 15. I remember harvesting olives for a good couple hours, becoming super parched, getting covered in dust. And at that age, I was like, what is this? Who signed me up to this? I want nothing to do with it. Send me home. I actually protested and walked to my great aunt's house.

And I was like, they're slaving me. Get me home. I don't want to do this anymore. very Americana of me, I will say, very privileged of me. So definitely not what I experience now as an adult. I don't think I understood the gravity. I don't think I understood the value of that experience. I don't think I understood the meaning of what the olive symbolized for Palestinian families.

And in hindsight, I can honestly say that was a very privileged thing of me to do. But I was a kid and you know it got hard and what do kids do when things get hard. They seek an exit, you know, they want to get saved. Totally. I imagine, you know, now that you're a mother of teenagers, you have some, maybe some compassion for them. For sure. I was just saying this to you earlier, Owen.

It's like you want them to love what you love, but you also want to be careful not to like shove it down their throats and like force it on to them so that they don't rebel against it and hate it. But I think that my kids get to witness my joy and love for the land and they watched my stories, you know, moment to moment. And honestly, we're so happy and proud and just, you know, wanted to be there alongside me. Like my kids would be like, I wish we were there. I wish I was there harvesting with you, which is really cute and special. But I definitely wouldn't want to like throw them in the field with like no fun, no fun involved. Well, I watched your stories moment by moment too on Instagram.

And I actually thought we would talk about this later, but here we are like in the olive groves of your home village. And I'm wondering if you could make a comparison between your first experience harvesting olives there and the one that you just had weeks ago. Yeah, I mean, well, on a mental and emotional level, I think I understand the gravity and the importance of the olive harvest and what it means to people, not just to have a food source, you know, a staple, but also what the olive harvest means to the economy. So I understand that now as an adult. One significant difference that I can honestly say was when I was younger, there was, there was no fear of danger when you were harvesting those olives. It felt very much safe. And even, you know, growing up in the village, we felt like we were in our own little bubble where, you know, we were untouchable. You know, there was just a sense of safety. That no longer exists in the West Bank. Specifically, my village is currently being surrounded

by three settler outposts. They've established camps since October 7th. Very young, settlers all under the age of 25 and more recently have become more and more violent in their attacks and just more steady in, you know, causing damage and carnage to the people in the village. And as we've seen across the West Bank, the settler attacks have risen exponentially. They are organized. They're strategic and they are working together to, terrorized Palestinian villages and specifically Palestinian farmers. It's not just the olive harvest that's under attack. It started with the shepherds because they were spanning large pieces of land and, you know, shepherding their animals on the mountains over the last two years have gotten

pushed into the villages and more condensed locations, which causes a rift in the community for all sorts of reasons, as you can imagine, with any kind of like farming situation, you know, there's odor, noises, all sorts of things. But this year specifically 2025, the attacks on the olive harvest has been significant. We were there with Roots of Resilience, the organization that I started to record a documentary, a short VR experience just to support people in the diaspora and help connect them to what the olive harvest actually means as a Palestinian. And nothing was staged. We were actually there supporting other farmers,

so literally working alongside them. But we did provide, like, you know, a beautiful meal. We had our nice breakfast. We were cooking on an outdoor fire. We were getting to know the farmers. It took a minute for them to kind of like warm up to us and, you know, feel us out and make sure we were cool people. But by the end of the day, we were last.

laughing, joking, just, you know, harvesting, competing with each other, climbing up the tree, falling off ladders, like just a great, amazing time. At around four, I took my last photo. I was laying down on the mat, resting, waiting for our lunch to be finished. Hanny was cooking on an outdoor fire, McCluba, actually. And I just, I took this picture, and I'll show it to you, just of like the olive tree the sunseting beginning to set it's like 4 30 maybe and a ladder and just the most perfect scenic moment like my heart was calm you felt full tranquility you're in the presence

of these very old ancient olive trees amongst people that are talking about the land and their love and connection and their dedication to protecting it and in 10 seconds everything changed. The farmers that we were with got phone calls, almost all three of them, their phones rang at the same time. And within those very few seconds, they stood up. They were speaking in Arabic, so I heard them say, where? They're coming now here. And by the time I got off the ground and started looking around, we were already surrounded by settlers. And I have to say, I was in shock just from going from straight calm and zen and tranquil to extreme panic. Oh, man.

They were running towards us, screaming things in Hebrew and in Arabic. And I know because I heard them, can I curse on this? I heard them say Sharmu'll say. Which I was like, hey, that's our word. but they were masked they were hooded they were all wearing black hoodies so very organized they were running towards us with batons or wooden sticks or some kind of like something in their hand a weapon they began smashing car windows as they were approaching us and all i remember it was three females, four men, in a fraction of a moment, the guys split up. One led us straight. One went to the left,

one went to the right, and one went to the back to kind of hoard off the settlers that were kind of surrounding us. I guess they were watching us. So they had a strategy on how to kind of like converge on us. And in that second, we ran. Me and the girls that I was with, and the one guy, we ran straight out of the Olive Grove. We jumped over rock walls. We, for like a split second, hesitated whether to keep running towards the mountains and get to like a higher point or try to dart towards the car and get out even faster. We got into a vehicle, a truck, drove a very short distance,

and the road was blocked by another vehicle. So we had to get out of that car, risk getting rocks thrown at us. and then actually got into a car whose glass was just all broken all over. So I actually ended up with like glass in my glutes. Because what are you going to do? It's like, you know, can't run. You're in the middle of the mountains. Your best bet is just getting into the second car and just getting out of there.

We got to safety. And within that five to ten minute window of us escaping, the village was alerted. And what they do is they send out a mass call for all the men in the village to defend the line, you know, defend the land, defend whoever needs defense. And on this day particularly, there was a wedding. So all of these men come running from the wedding in their dancing shoes. You can't even imagine they're white button-ups, their suits and their ties, and just head towards the mountains. We witness the settlers start harassing a shepherd on the mountain. They ran up, got him out of harm's way, got his animals out of harm's way.

And the settlers unfortunately continued with the violence. There was later shots fired. Somebody broke a leg. Somebody got their arm broken. Somebody ended up in the hospital with a concussion. But all of this was organized not necessarily to attack us. It was just the diversion. So they were actually after the Bedouin houses that are on Muhamas territory.

The Bedouins have been under severe attack in our village specifically, but all in the surrounding areas they've had to relocate. So this community specifically has already evacuated their women and their children, and it's only the men that stay on this land with the animals. And the settlers, while our village men were defending, three or four of them snuck around, set fire to the Bedouin homes, and on this day actually attacked the two Jewish activists that were there for land presence, active presence.

I later found out that they hit the woman in the head with a club and she ended up with brain hemorrhaging. Yep, and later was deported and now banned for like 10 years from entering Israel. So you can imagine my mind just thinking about how close I was to that being me. And I remember, like, in that second of me, like, running, like, literally running for my life, like, saying in my head, like, holy shit. I cannot believe I'm about to die at the hands of settlers. Like, just, like, holy shit. But luckily, we made it out safely.

We got back to my grandparents' house. And the guys just did a remarkable job, just, you know, holding what they could. You know, they ran towards these guys, the settlers, with nothing in their hands. Literally, no weapons, nothing, just their physical bodies with everything that they had. And made sure that we got out safe. Like, yeah, I know. It was the scariest day of my life. Wow.

Thank you for sharing that. It's so scary. and I just learned that kind of resistance runs in your family. Are you willing to share what you just learned? So the way that this actually came up was when after all of this happened, I tried to keep my name out of it. So like when my grandparents came back from the wedding, I like played it off like I wasn't a part of because it's really, you know,

it's so hard to explain this. I'm still a Palestinian woman. And so my family has a really hard time seeing me outside of my role as like daughter, mother, wife, this, that, that, like it's, you know what I mean? So like activist hasn't really hit their psyche. They don't understand, you know, in our community, it's not, yes, you see some women on the front lines, but in our family, that's not the case. So I tried not to mention that I was a part of the set of it.

letter attack and later on people started calling my grandma I'm like asking like we heard she was there so I had to confess so jokingly I said well you know like if I got martyred I would like bring you into heaven you know to try to lighten the mood it's like how many people can I bring in like how many passes do I get like 70 is it 80 and my grandma's like well we already got a pass because like your great great grandfather was actually marty and I was like like, wait, what? How come nobody ever told me this? And so I found out that somebody in our family was actually a martyred way back when and, you know, just constantly pulling things out of, like, our family history, seemingly accidentally, kind of. It's really funny. So that's like, what,

four generations, at least of your family, kind of dealing with this occupation. And it's, this, was just one day, you know, with you in the Olive Grove and the settlers are encroaching more on your family land, let alone your village and so much in the West Bank. How is that impacting your grandfather's farm in a longer term way? Yeah, so they are definitely encroaching and it's happening pretty quickly, actually. So when I was there in 2024, the settlers were there and I was there this summer with my kids, and I really wanted to show my kids the land, you know, the land where my olive, my grandfather's olive trees are, the land where my grandma was shepherding her animals, the land where, you know, they were growing their wheat.

And there was a lot of hesitation about visiting this area because of the settlers. But I insisted, and we went out, it was like four generations, is my grandfather, my mother, myself and my children along with my cousins and my uncles. And my grandfather talked about the settlers. He pointed to them and, you know, we spent an hour or two on the land, visited some caves that my family used to actually occupy with their animals. And we went home. In April of 2025, I was there again and it became very obvious to me very quickly that it was a lot more dangerous to visit the same piece of land. My grandfather was like, oh, we were there,

and we couldn't harvest our olives, that same 2024. And we stopped going there. They now have quads. They now have created dirt pathways, and they get to you in like five minutes, you know, faster than you can actually run away. From April 2025 to October, 2025,

which my second time going to same, year, the energy was completely different, like completely different. You know, the day before we got attacked by the settlers, my cousin was in the same area where my grandfather's land is. He had just started harvesting his olives, had two nice full bags, which now I know the value of the effort that goes into filling two of those bags up. And these settlers came over, kicked him off of the land, like threatened to kill him, weapons and all, took the olives and went on with their merry day. My grandfather is one of many people in our village who are in the process of losing lots of land, including olives that have been there for decades.

He can no longer access a piece of land that has over 500 olive trees. The only reason we were able to get to that particular piece of land this year was because a group of activists volunteered their time, energy, and their bodies to actually come out and harvest the olive. So while I was there, I got to meet activists from rabbis for humanity and standing together. About around 30 or 40 activists came very deep on a bus and spent the morning into the afternoon harvesting my grandfather's olive olive trees and the settlers stayed out during this time. I guess they were outnumbered. But the army actually ended up showing up and kicking them off of the land.

Even though we technically had permits, so now you have to get a tasriah or like some kind of permit to actually go harvest your olives. you have to actually apply for protection and approval from the Israeli government to actually access your land. But despite that documentation, they still got kicked off of the land by the army. And what does the army say in that moment? This is a military zone. You got to get out. Do they feel like they're there protecting the settlers or something?

Absolutely. They're 110% they're protecting the settlers. I know this because when I was there, there in April every single day at sundown a army jeep would go towards the settlers check on them make sure everything is fine with them and then leave our village every single day there's no other explanation for that so our guess is that the settlers felt threatened because they were outnumbered you're talking 30 to 40 people versus you know what the group size that we were three or four five, six people. And we were just assuming that they called the army and let them know that there's

you know foreigners or activists or whatever it is. And I do believe it they did call the army because there's been a crackdown on these activists that are helping farmers process and harvest their olives. And they're now banning them from crossing checkpoints. And so I imagine this is a big part of the reason you started your organization, roots of resilience. Can you say a little bit about how that work you're doing is supporting farmers on the ground? Yeah. So I started Roots of Resilience the summer of 2024. I was very deep in my genocide depression. Like many, I'm coining this term, it's going to make it one day into like the Webster's dictionary, sadly. But that's the only explanation. You know, I spent, you know,

six, seven, eight, nine months watching the most horrific images on my phone. And I am an action-based individual. I see something wrong. I change it. I see something broken. I try to fix it. I see somebody who needs help. I figure out how to help them.

It's the only way that I'm able to actually survive. And during the initial months of the Gaza genocide, I felt utterly helpless. and despair just swallowed me whole. I had already decided that I was going to go back in 2024 and take my kids back, so that wasn't going to change. About two weeks before I head out, I was thinking about what I can actually do to help Palestine.

And I've been paying attention. Like my grandfather's telling me what's happening with the settlers. I talked to a bunch of other farmers. So I had an idea of what was happening in the, the West Bank and I almost, I don't want to say like I foreshadowed it, but like I knew it was going to get worse. And as we know here in the United States, like their farmers always need help. And then imagine farming under occupation. Imagine being in the West Bank watching your brothers and sisters in Gaza be starved to death. You know what I mean? Imagine like the pressure and the

stress and the importance of food sovereignty. And so we have gone back to. Palestine three times so far and what we focus on is land-based solidarity education and mutual aid and as we know with mutual aid there's a lot that can come from mutual aid for example after the settler attack in my village we ran a first aid training for some of these young men that are putting their bodies in danger defending their land in their trees it was such a success. The guys were very excited. They were very energized. None of them, none of them had any first aid training. And each and every one of them was running full speed towards these settlers with weapons. And I'm talking like the most basic training. Like they didn't know how to do

like a tourniquet. And they're up against settlers with full impunity and guns. So, you know it really empowers us to come into a space have conversations with people figure it out figure out with them what it is they need to take their farms to the next level and making sure that happens sometimes it's you know just land-based presence like you know just an extra hand like bringing a group of people planting things out cleaning we've cleaned fields for elderly farmers. We've rented plots of land for farmers that couldn't access their former farms. We've purchased new inventions. Like, you know, we had this one farmer that's like, oh, I envision creating this tool to, you know, char our freak at and nobody has made it before. And I was like,

I'll give you money. You get a steel worker to design it for you and do it. And now people are actually replicating the model. So it's been pretty amazing, honestly. Most importantly, I think it's just the connections with the farmers and especially right now in the West Bank where there's a lot of fear and not that many people going to the West Bank. People feel very isolated and alone and very forgotten. And as a farmer, I know firsthand that we are very forgotten people. We're out of sight, out of mind. and I think being a West Bank farmer that's on steroids. Wow. What's one of the next things you'll do with roots of resilience?

And how can people support you? So we are really excited, actually. We were introduced to a wheat farmer in Geniean, who is on a mission to convert former tobacco fields into ancient grain fields. So he's very interested in growing more ancient. ancient grains, which I'm excited about because here in the States, I also worked on a project to kind of like reinvigorate the economy for ancient grains. So we're excited to be supporting that project. We are planning to go back to Palestine in May for the actual harvest and continue

learning how to process our frica, which is something that we invested in this year. People can support us in all sorts of ways. Direct contributions will go straight to supporting the farmers and whatever they need, seeds, supplies, bodies, soil, fences, tools, replacing equipment that's stolen by settlers, all sorts of things. You can also visit Palestine. So we're planning to take a delegation back in May, hopefully a group of five or six people that are active and ready to get their hands dirty in the soil, and continue spreading awareness. I think there's a lot of information that's going around. and rightfully so, but if we can continue to highlight the stories of farmers,

I think that is very, very important because they are often on the front lines of a lot of this violence, and their contribution to their societies is instrumental in the survival of the whole people. It's making sure they have food sovereignty. It's making sure that our food culture survives. It's making sure that we have some level of security in the event that, you know that valve gets turned and food no longer comes into these communities so hopefully we can continue doing that awesome there's so many striking images from your story so far and one of the most is just imagining your maternal ancestors giving birth in the wheat fields and here you are going to jeanine

and investing in technology created by farmers and helping with wheat harvest and processing is just something very poetic and beautiful about it so thank you for sharing these things and doing all the work that you're doing. Thank you. Yeah, it's a great honor. You know, I feel like I carry the strength of my people in my heart. I've had this like recurring dream in some of like the hardest moments of my life where this like very feminine voice tells me that I have heart strength and my heart is like all of heartwood. So it just to me this is like, it's just a matter of like following your purpose and I reflect back on my life and I never saw myself as like this person that I am today you know it's never really sought out for any of it

and it's like that sometimes with your path and your journey it's like you keep taking that you put that foot forward and suddenly you land in a place and you're like wow I am this person shaped by these experiences because of the people that came before me So I tend to carry that with me a lot. Beautiful. And that's maybe a good transition because I want to bring us here to your home, to the U.S., and talk about that journey. And we say this while we're sitting near in olive tree sitting in your kitchen window,

you know, reflecting that heartwood, that olive heartwood. But I'm wondering if you could describe this journey of transformation for you and like what brought you here. I know that you're someone like me who grew up with gardens and nature and that is a big piece of your connection to this work. And yeah, so like what your kind of childhood was like connected to plants. I'd love to know when and where kind of Palestinian plants came into play in your work and your life. So if you could start us off there. Yeah, so I'll give you some background information.

So my childhood is a mix of life in New Jersey, life in Philadelphia, and life in Palestine. We moved a lot when I was a kid. My parents had a very tumultuous relationship. And in our community and culture at that time, divorce was never an option, so my mom always separated, you know. The one common denominator for me, the one thing that kept me grounded and stable as a kid was my connection. to the earth and gardens and backyards and my fascination with like seeds. You know, I remember as young as like second grade, like learning about the germination process, like, you know, germinating like radish seeds and bean seeds and watching that whole

process happen and just being fully captivated, just like magic. Like, this is magic. This is magic. And the 90s, you know, little girls had these little like makeup boxes like, you know, that fuchsia pink and that green. And mine was full of. seeds, like beans, like lentils, like literally sunflower seeds, anything I can find, I would like just hoard. Wherever I would go, I'd be feral. So, like, I was always out. My mom would, like,

not know where I was. I was like, you know, in Philly, we had right behind our home was like woods and we like climb over the fence and like get into the creek and do all sorts of, like, mischief. My connection to like land and planting and gardens really was established, I think, in Palestine. I spent a lot of time outside, like I said. I was very free. I was a little girl. I had a garden in front of my house. Like when I was there this summer, I was like, I can't believe these freaking sage plants are still alive, like literally. They're ancient. They're like over 25 years. But it really allowed me to connect to like soil and trees. I was like planting potatoes. I was like planting potatoes and mint and sage and like spinach and all sorts of things. I was living in Palestine in 2006,

so maybe back and forth. So had some time in the late 90s into early 2000s, into father started, moved back to Philadelphia, lived there for a few years. And then in 2003, went back to Palestine, and lived there for most of my high school years. Same thing. Had more gardens and plants than I ever did have boyfriends, got married at 18 while living in Palestine. My ex was from here and moved to New Jersey, spent about a year and a half living with his family, bought this house that I'm in now, here in Clifton. And when I walked into this house, it was pretty run down. I was like, I was young, I was 21 maybe. And it was the cheapest house on the market, but it was like a do-or-die moment. It was like either I'll kill your mom or she's going to kill me. Somebody's dying if we don't

like separate. So I was desperate to get out of living with in-laws. And one thing I remember about this property was like, the house was whatever, it's really old, need a lot of renovation, but it had a lot of land. For a little urban 50 by 100 foot plot, my mind was like, I can do a lot with this green grass, you know, flip it, turn it into something else. And by then I had a a child soon later i had another child and one thing that i've always wanted to do with my children was you know pass down my love of gardening and plants and that joy i wanted them to establish that outside connection to nature is what being human is all about and so we started with one raised garden bed and the next season it turned into two and suddenly we got spring chicks in like 2000 and uh i think it was like

2013 and suddenly we had a chicken coop and then four garden beds and then some fruit trees and you know by then I had already like started really digging into um organically grown versus conventional my child had an autoimmune disease at one point so it was like really starting to like open open up those channels and like really understand what our food system is here in the united States and very, very quickly and very, very naturally opposed mainstream food. I was like, you know, conventionally grown food and just like factory farms. I was like, this is so wrong. In 2016, I learned about colony collapse disorder.

And like I mentioned earlier, it's like very action base. It's like, how to save the bees, plant more flowers, support a beekeeper, most extreme case. Number three, become a beekeeper. And so I spent a year learning how to actually beekeep and became a beekeeper. Now, if we went outside and took a walk on my property, my property is full of native plants. So I'm very much into the native plants and just, you know, land restoration. I have several fruit trees. I have a pawpaw tree, a fig tree, an apple tree, a pear tree, a peach tree, a cherry tree, an elderberry.

like all on 50 by 100 foot piece of land. I have two hives. I have a chicken coop, a beautiful, very productive garden that grows an abundance of produce every single season. And it just morphed into a way of life, honestly. I didn't expect to be here. I didn't expect to end up, you know, running an organization, but, you know, an opportunity presented itself in 2018. I applied for a part-time farm manager gig at a local urban farm, and here I am seven years later running the organization. But I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. I feel like, you know, just like when I was a kid,

nature saved me. It continues to save me in a lot of ways. My job at the farm helped me leave a very abusive and violent relationship. and my work with roots of resilience helped me get out of like my genocide depression and has truly like giving me meaning you know i'm surrounded by not only plants in a crazy garden but like the most amazing humans that show up time and time again that remind me what it is to be a human remind me what love actually is keep me grounded centered focused um keep me out of despair when this world feels overwhelmingly evil and overwhelmingly negative.

And it all started from that one little seed, you know, way back when, generations maybe, I don't know. I'd love to hear about your work stewarding Palestinian vegetables and so on, and what that's meant for you and your community and some stories about particular seeds. Yeah, I've been growing Palestinian seeds pretty much. all my life, I would say, from my time in Palestine. And as I expanded my garden here, I've always had an interest of trying to grow things that I couldn't find here that I would often have in Palestine, like Phakus, for example, you know, or these like Persian cucumbers that we used to love there that were harder to find in markets here. Now they're more common.

So I've always been growing them. I think that my connection to growing and stewarding the seeds came in our 22-ish during the pandemic. I think this is, we had met previously, Owen, but I think you helped make the connection with Vivian. Lana's talking about Vivian censor of the Palestine heirloom-seid library. That connection with Vivian came at a perfect time in my life. I was going through my divorce, which was very, very difficult, especially being a Palestinian Muslim woman who was initiating the divorce.

There's a lot of like cultural and very patriarchal ideologies around women who leave relationships. And I was at, in a sense, in a battle with my identity as a Palestinian person, as a Palestinian woman, who is experiencing a lot of hurt and pain coming from the ideas of a culture and what it means. And my identity as a Palestinian woman was being weaponized. And so I had met Vivian shortly and we later got onto a call about the seeds that I was stewarding at this time. It was the spinach seeds. And I kind of told her a little bit about what I was experiencing.

And I'll never forget her words when she was like, you do, your identity belongs to you. You are a Palestinian woman, whether men give you permission or not. And so the conversation was a lot longer. a lot more intense, obviously, but that was the first time that I heard another Palestinian woman really empower me. And once again, it was through my connection to nature and my connection to the seeds. And so I started growing a wide variety of Palestinian seeds. And for a long time, those were my anchor. That was the one aspect of my identity as a Palestinian that I was willing to hold on to. I was at a really big crossroads, I would say. In 2023, I went back to Palestine really to

try to figure out, like, am I leaving this part of me behind or am I going to hold on to it? Like, what do I want to keep from my culture? What do I want to let go of as a woman in my culture? Like, lots of hard decisions to make. And fortunately for me, I'm in a position where I could actually make those decisions, whereas a lot of other people can't make those decisions. And in 2023, I was in Palestine, had an amazing time, picked up a bunch of new seeds to steward, met a bunch of seed savers, just really beautiful time. Remember coming back very energized and like fully in my power, just like strong, independent and very loud and proud Palestinian. And then October 7th happened. And that's when the serious business, I think, happened.

We watched, we watched them Target farms and Target. Target greenhouses, target seed libraries, and that's when the work really was like, you know, we have to do this. Like our food culture depends on it. Our identity as like Palestinians truly depend on it. And so I started stewarding a ton of other varieties. The okra being the most prominent. I was already doing that for a few years prior, but really like kind of like kicked, kicked up the production on that. I'm currently stirring the grudering the grubriding the Gaz and peppers for the Palestinian heirloom seed library, the zinias, the Swiss chard, and the okra.

There's one more. I'll think about it. It might come to me later. But yeah, so the seeds, once again, just help me strengthen who I am and gave me purpose and gave me like one little area that I can actually do something about the problems that are happening around them. Super honored to be protecting these seeds. Super honored to be sharing some of their stories

because a lot of them have made it here through very tragic and tragic and sad stories and have used them to create larger communities and inspire young people and also teach people about our food culture. And I use it when I go back to Palestine. Like when I tell them that I'm growing all these varieties back home in America, they're like,

really they grow and it just like is a great way to connect with people and let them know how much work is actually happening here in the States despite what they see on the TV. Could you talk about some of the plants and seeds in this room with us that connect back to Palestine? One of them is a olive tree that was gifted to me from the folks at Hakuritna Farm, which is a beautiful organic farm in Tulgarim, which is currently being threatened by the occupation. They received demolition orders this year, in addition to the 16 doloms that they lost over the last 20 years when they built the separation wall on one side and a Israeli chemical factory on another side. Yeah, horrible. Another is the Zatar plants, which we got from our

friend Hassan in Batyr, which we're planting in my village this year. So I have a couple of little sprigs that I'm nurturing. And another plant is a night blooming jasmine, which we call It Tilkadr, which brings me back to my childhood. It just has a beautiful aromatic fragrant that just like wafts, you know, like if you're passing by, it's hard to miss that night. along with a ton of seeds, like some basil seeds that I got from a 96-year-old old lady who I visited when I was leaving Palestine, and I saw this little cup on her window with dried plant matter. And I was like, what are you seed saving?

And she's like, oh, this is Rihann, like basil. It smells so good. And so she, like, grabbed the bunch and, like, put them in a little napkin. And it's like, here, they're yours now. So I have like a collection of seeds that come with like stories very similar. I have wheat seeds that have been passed down for 100 years that originated in my village from a farmer that is now my mentor named Hajja imamadib, which I hope to grow here this year. I have a plan. I have a plan to grow some frica here.

Wow. Yeah. Wow. and someone will have to give births in the field. Not me, not me. Well, those could be your relatives, you know? It's from your village. This is probably the same kind of wheat family

as the ones your family would grow. Very, very possible, honestly, very possible. And wheat, you know, originates in that region, right, 15,000 years ago. So what a beautiful lineage. A fertile crescent, right? What are these peppers here the table. Those are

our gauze and peppers, which we are stewarding for the Palestinian heirloom seed library. I am so proud to be protecting these seeds. Earlier this spring, I received a pack of 30 seeds. I planted them

myself in the greenhouse, and of the 30, only three plants germinated. Only three plants germinated. And now we have thousands. of seeds that will eventually make their way not only for protection at the seed library, but I'm pretty sure we'll make their way across the country in honor of the person that got them out of God'some.

Wow, and that's, if that's not like a symbol of hope in a time of death and destruction, I don't know what is. From three plants, there's a huge plate full of seeds in front of us drying. Thousands. Thousands of seeds. And we hear the rustlings of a rabbit? Yes, this is our beautiful bunny Miffy. She's pretty sassy, so she's probably jealous that we've had this beautiful, long conversation and haven't given her any snacks. Well, before we give her snacks and go to the farm, I wanted to say, thinking of, like, the experience in the diaspora and how plants bring people together and connect people back home, I feel like I witnessed a very powerful moment.

one time last year when you came to our farm and Anan and George Tsar were there and Hassan and his family and suddenly you realized that your families all knew each other and you were crying and there were hugs and it was a very beautiful moment to witness and I just wonder like I imagine to be meeting people who know your ancestors and relatives in diaspora can be a profound experience. Yeah, absolutely. I mean that was such a wild moment. I did not expect them to be connected at all. You know, here in the diaspora, everybody's spread out. And as time goes on, our families continue to grow. So you, there's no way you can know everyone, right? And it's very different when you're living there because you're

growing up, you're interacting, you know, you're trading, you're buying, you're selling, you're serving, there's a lot more connection. But here in the States, like, it's very rare that you're like making these connections and I remember being on the farm and talking to the elder women. And people, when they look at me, your first impression is not that I can vibe with like a 60 or 70 year old Palestinian woman. Your first vibe is like, she's very Western. She's very like, you know, American. But I did grow up in Palestine and I did play, you know, housewife role for a really

long time. So like I definitely can get down with them. So I was in conversation with this woman, who is also with our friend Hesan. We'd later find out that we were connected in another way. And I'm talking and she's like, where are you from? Like, oh, Muammas, who is your family? Oh, this person. And later in the conversation, she's like, wait, are you, are you, are you, you're the girl? And it turns out that this woman had heard my divorce story through the grapevine and that she knew my grandmother and she knew my mom and she knew my mom's story and it it was like this whole entire like just small world and roads crossing and the woman started crying and then I started crying because you know from like a woman to a woman like hearing like somebody

struggle like it's just you know that sense of like connection and just she was like looking at me in all like so proud of like this woman that I am now coming out of like ashes you know and then later we'll find out that Hesan, who is also there, is the brother of Fatma, who had, I had just met that summer in Palestine, who is now protecting the heirloom seed library in Palestine and Batir. And I'm like, no way. This hones her family is connected to me in one way or another, like through the grapevine, you know, word of mouth and like stories that our communities tell and share, but then

also through seeds because of like Fatma and my connection to the heirloom seed library. And it's been amazing. It's like forming like an extension of your family. You know, like every time I go to Palestine, I visit them. I go to the heirloom seed library. I was able to see Heson and his slunk they see it. And like he got so big. I was like, oh my God, stop growing.

But it's these special connections that like, you know, really bring you back and root you to like what's important. You know, it's like people, this earth, the plants, food. The connector is really food, you know, and we all need it to survive. So it's been a beautiful journey and a beautiful connection of like amazing people. Well, let's go connect with your land. Yeah, let's go. So we are on city green property, a local farm that I have partnered with in order to grow a larger quantity of our okra seeds. So growing at home was just not doing enough service to these plants.

They were way too big. and we wanted to maximize production. So I reached out to a neighboring farm, and they welcomed me and the seeds with open arms. So we're going to go down to the field and say hello. I also just wanted you to see how beautiful this space was. It's so nice. So City Green and I go way back.

I used to bring my kids here to a lot of their educational programs when they were tiny. Now they're all teenagers. But once upon a time, they were little ducking. And this was a space that in addition to the things that we were doing at home really helped ingrain the kids with a connection to nature, just explorative play. It's a great way to network and build community with folks. And we've watched this farm pretty much evolve over the last 15 years into this beautiful,

productive, organic farm that's now supporting the stewardship of very precious seeds. Oh, and there they are. A couple beautiful rows of Bami. And you introduced this variety to the True Love Seeds Catalog, and people have been so grateful to have access to this, so thank you. Yeah, of course. It's been amazing to watch the seeds grow, and also to like know that they're now growing in all different places all over the country.

It's quite fascinating to really see. But here you see two beautiful rows of our, amazing bamiya beladilla they got really tall i think one of the stocks down there got up to like 14 feet which is why i can't grow them on my home garden anymore but they're a beautiful very productive prolific plant very resilient strong you can see how strong they are they're desperately holding on to life despite losing all of their leaves in the last frost And how has this relationship between the okra, you and city green kind of taken shape over the years? Like what are some of the ways you've engaged with each other around this plant?

So historically we've had pretty decent relationship with the organization itself. But I think that when I approached the farmers initially, I was a little nervous. I had a conversation with a farmer that was about an hour away. and was planning on leasing land there to grow this variety. And somebody said, wow, like an hour seems like a long drive. Why don't you just ask City Green? There are five minutes from your house. I was hesitant mostly because they're a nonprofit that rely on a lot of like public funding.

And I didn't want to, you know, encroach. And, you know, you got to be careful these days where your allies are. People are really hesitant. And I remember just shooting out the message to Henry like, hey, Henry, I'm growing this variety for seed saving. Would you be open to like giving me some space? And when I say he met me with open arms, like he met me with open arms.

He was like, this is amazing. I would love to. We would love to. We'd do anything to support. And honestly, growing the ochre has, I think, given them something to contribute. Like it's empowered them to feel like they're doing something for the cause as well. Not only stewarding these seeds because they're Palestinian.

heirloom seeds but also interestingly enough is you know every season we're getting drier and drier you know we're looking for crops that are more drought tolerant and more resilient and these ochre seeds just so happen to be just that so it's a win-win i think for all of us um and our friendship over the last two years has grown tremendously like now i like get to play with his baby and like you know we had a great seed harvest and it it just feels like family like an extension of family and I think that's what the plants and the seeds want to do. I think ultimately they want to connect us and they've helped do that. Yeah, I got to witness this like family love a little bit last year. I took my son up to your house and saw all the beautiful community you had around you,

including the farmers here and we all shelled okra seeds together in your backyard and had a delicious meal. It's really a beautiful community that you've gathered around yourself. Yeah, I feel super fortunate honestly like I feel like my life is what it is because it's decorated with so many amazing souls like I mean people that come to support an okra harvest from out of state that's that's like a love language right there right so like year after year I keep putting out these invitations like hey ochre seed harvest and you know people show up and they want to be a part of it and they they see the work that we're doing and it's just fueling

love and that's I think what we have to hold on to and it's what we need more of truly truly just like more connections more love more acceptance of one another and literally just taking control of the future that we want to

live in. That would be a beautiful place to end so I could cut it there but is there anything else you want to add before we sign off? I'll just do a plug. So if you want to follow the work of the seeds that we're stewarding, you can follow me at this bee, Lana, Roots of Resilience. And if you want to check out City Green and any of the work they're doing, you can find them at City Green. And then my personal work is Montclair Community Farms.

Thank you so much for taking this time, for taking me to Little Palestine. It's been seven years since we've met and it's been such a joy to get to know you better and deepen our work. together so thank you for all of the above thank you Owen for paving the way for so many of us because you were doing this work and really set us up to actually be able to do it so thank you for all the work you're doing sucks all right we turn the mic back on to catch the sounds of okra seeds in their pods here it is the rattle of life thank you so much to Lana Mustafa for all all she does and for sharing her stories with us.

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