Liberation Lineages

A photo series celebrating lineages of liberation through Afro-descendant land stewardship across South Texas, Western Cuba, and la Costa Chica de México.

During seasons of great social and political upheaval, history has proven that community safety and survival rely on our connections to one another and the land. My paternal grandmother, born in Jasper County, Texas in 1930 at the onset of the Great Depression, was a loving caregiver, a resourceful financial steward, and the keeper of a large garden and farm at her home.

She grew tall stalks of corn, bright green okra, nourishing crowder peas, purple hull peas, and a colorful variety of peppers. The perimeter of her home was lined with generous fruit trees that spoiled us with the ripest of peaches each summer.

My paternal grandmother, Ada Jane Blueitt Philips in the 1950s. Credit: Briana Blueitt

On any given day, a collection of soft tomatoes sat on her kitchen windowsill, waiting to answer the call from the right recipe. My grandmother cared for my sisters and me through sweltering summers, and taught us early on that land is not only sacred but foundational to our long-term care.

The land always gave us more than we needed—this blessing of abundance was often celebrated when neighbors came over to share in the harvest. We watched the sun set from grandma's screened-in porch while shelling peas and catching the breeze in wooden rocking chairs.

My grandmother cared for my sisters and me through sweltering summers, and taught us early on that land is not only sacred but foundational to our long-term care..

In 2024, I created this documentary photo series in honor of my grandmother during my time as an Artist in Residence at the Democratizing Racial Justice Project. It celebrates the continued legacies of land stewardship in Afro-descendant communities across South Texas, Western Cuba, and La Costa Chica de México.

From generational farmers and ranchers returning to regenerative practices in Texas Freedom Colonies to urban gardeners exchanging knowledge and seeds at ReglaSOUL in Havana, we carry a shared past, present, and future.

May this series reveal the kinship and connections between our cultural traditions and movements for land and food sovereignty.

"When you've got 400 pounds of greens and gumbo soup canned for the winter, nobody can push you around or tell you what to say or do." ― Fannie Lou Hamer (1917 – 1977)

"We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond." ― Gwendolyn Brooks (1917 – 2000)