Come in to The Garden
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Come in to The Garden •
Walk through the archway into George Washington Carver’s Garden, where the air carries the scent of lavender, rosemary, and fresh earth.
It’s a place to breathe, to rest, to remember that our roots run deep and still carry us
Every plant in the garden is named after an ancestor or freedom fighter. Malik keeps a notebook of the names and their stories, and he’ll share them if you ask.
The G.W. Carver Garden vibe
George washington carVer tends the blooms in the soil quietly, naming each plant after an ancestor or freedom fighter.
The garden hums with bees and memory.
It’s a place to breathe, to rest, to remember that our roots run deep and still carry us
Every plant in the garden is named after an ancestor or freedom fighter. Malik keeps a notebook of the names and their stories, and he’ll share them if you ask.
Relax and enjoy some sound rituals in the garden
WHILE Bees move lazily from flower to flower, There’s a shady bench beneath a tree where you can sit, let your shoulders drop, and breathe deeply.
In the garden, healing comes slowly, but it comes surely — rooted in the soil, in memory, and in community.
George Washington Carver’s Garden is the quiet, green corner of YAIT Street. Rows of lavender, rosemary, and sunflowers grow alongside collards and mint. A wooden archway marks the entrance, and bees hum softly among the blossoms.
There’s a shady bench tucked under a tree — a place to sit, breathe, and feel connected.
YAIT garden Moments
The Shared Harvest
Someone places a basket of greens on the table, still damp from rinsing.
Another person adds tomatoes. Someone else brings bread.
No one asks who grew what.
In this garden, nourishment belongs to everyone.
Learning as We Go
A question floats through the air - “Is this ready yet?”
Three different answers come back, each shaped by experience, memory, and intuition.
They laugh, compare notes,
and decide together.
Knowledge grows best when it’s shared, not ranked.
Rest Between the Rows
Someone sits on an overturned crate, wiping their hands on their jeans, watching the leaves move in the breeze.
Work pauses without apology.
Rest is part of tending — not a reward for finishing.
Quiet Gratitude
Before anyone takes the first bite, there’s a brief pause.
Not formal. Not announced.
Just a shared moment of awareness — of effort, soil, sun, and survival.
Some gratitude doesn’t need a script.
The Garden’s purpose
A place for rest, grounding, and reflection.
A reminder of ancestral strength and the healing power of the earth.
A living sanctuary where memory and nature meet.
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