Everybody loves to talk about “supporting Black businesses.”
Everybody loves to say “health is wealth.”
Everybody loves to post a flyer during Black History Month.
But support is not a slogan.
Support is logistics.
Support is resources.
Support is showing up.
Support is staying late.
Support is making sure the ones doing the work get recognized.
And that’s why what happened that afternoon at Farma Cares’ “Taste Of” launch inside Yonkers Arts mattered.
Because this wasn’t vibes.
This was intention.
The Space Felt Grounded From the Start
Walking in that afternoon, you could feel it.
No distractions.
No noise competing for attention.
No unnecessary extras.
Just presence.
Just purpose.
Just focus.
The room was calm but energized.
Conversations were thoughtful.
Connections were real.
Organizers moved with clarity.
Volunteers moved with care.
Elders observed with pride.
Young creatives documented like they knew something important was happening.
That’s not accidental.
That’s community discipline.
Farma Cares Did More Than Host
Let’s give credit where it’s due.
Farma Cares didn’t just “put on” an event.
They built a container.
A container for conversation.
For culture.
For health.
For economic empowerment.
They understood that plant-based wellness in Black communities isn’t about trends.
It’s about access.
It’s about longevity.
It’s about reclaiming control over our bodies and our futures.
That’s leadership that doesn’t need noise to be powerful.
Real Collaboration Looks Like This
The strength of the afternoon came from alignment.
The Yonkers NAACP brought legacy and advocacy into the room.
We Art One brought creativity and culture, and created a live portrait during the event, capturing the spirit of the moment in real time.
Paint moving.
Colors blending.
Energy transferring.
Art witnessing community.
And Yonkers Arts provided the physical and cultural home for it all.
This wasn’t scattered effort.
This was synergy.
The Food Was the Foundation
Now let’s be clear.
There was one vendor feeding the community that afternoon.
And that was Aunts et Uncles.
One table.
One mission.
One standard.
They weren’t just serving plates.
They were serving heritage.
Caribbean influence.
Plant-based intention.
Sustainability rooted in culture.
Every bite carried meaning.
Not just flavor.
Nourishment that honored where we come from and where we’re going.
Giving Flowers to the Builders
And let’s talk about recognition.
Because the owners of Aunts et Uncles didn’t just feed the room.
They fed consistency.
They fed culture.
They fed community.
So when they received their proclamation, it felt right.
It felt earned.
It felt like years of early mornings, late nights, and pouring back into community, were finally being honored out loud.
That moment said:
“We see what you’ve built.
And we value it.”
And that matters.
Leadership Was Present, Not Performative
Lakisha Collins-Bellamy was there.
She acknowledged the work.
She showed support.
She respected the space.
Her presence represented recognition and support.
And that’s important.
Not ownership.
Not authorship.
Just showing respect for work that was already happening and letting the community remain at the center.
Proclamations That Carried Weight
When Andrea Stewart-Cousins read the state proclamations, she let the words land.
She honored the moment.
Then, the Office of Mike Spano added City recognition.
And Deana R. Norman was there, present and attentive, showing real support for the work happening in the room.
She listened.
She engaged.
She respected the moment.
And that mattered.
When BurnHard Got His Flowers
And then there was Scott Bernard.
When he received his proclamation, he got emotional.
His voice caught.
His eyes filled.
He paused.
You could see years of unseen work rising to the surface.
The doubt.
The grind without guarantees.
The faith it takes to build something for your community with limited resources.
Nobody rushed him.
That moment was allowed to breathe.
Because it wasn’t about paper.
It was about acknowledgment.
The Panel Was Honest
The conversation on that stage wasn’t theoretical.
It was lived.
The panel explored:
- Building businesses without safety nets
- Choosing passion while trying to survive
- Healing generational trauma
- Learning how to rest
- Learning how to ask for help
No pretending.
No posturing.
Just truth.
And the room held it with care.
What “Taste Of” Really Means
The “Taste Of” series isn’t about samples.
It’s about ecosystem.
It’s about making sure:
Wellness is accessible.
Art is respected.
Black entrepreneurs are sustained.
Community voices are amplified.
It’s about making sure the ones doing the work don’t feel isolated.
What I Took With Me
I left that afternoon with:
The smell of spices lingering.
The image of paint drying on a live portrait.
The sound of applause that felt genuine.
The sight of a community feeding itself, literally and spiritually.
That gathering wasn’t flashy.
It was focused.
It was grounded.
It was real.
And that’s how lasting change happens.
Not loud.
Not performative.
Intentional.
Collaborative.
Rooted.
Together.
This was just the beginning.
If you felt the power, purpose, and possibility of “Taste Of” and want to be part of what’s coming next, now is the time to lean in.
The second part of this series is on the way, and it’s building on everything that was started here.
To learn more, get involved, or stay connected, reach out to Farma Cares through farmacares.org.
Because community doesn’t grow by accident.
It grows when people show up, stay engaged, and invest in what matters.
