A guest essay by Tambra Raye Stevenson, Founder/CEO, WANDA
“Belonging is a choice. It’s the courage to be present and authentic in our lives, wherever we are, and to create spaces where we can come home to ourselves.” – bell hooks
And for me, that choice began at the table where food, culture, and community became the doorway back to myself, and the seedbed for building spaces where other women could come home too. So this season I am reminded of this: the seeds we plant in the soil today shape the harvest of tomorrow.
But I am not just talking about gardens. I am talking about dreams. About planting hope (hope for me is having optimism, perseverance, and enthusiasm) in communities like mine, where food is medicine like our stories and our sisterhood. And culture is currency like love is liberation.
I come from Oklahoma, a place where red dirt and deep roots tell stories most textbooks won’t. And growing up I didn’t know the seeds in my soul were planting something bigger than I knew. I just knew I was hungry. Hungry for more than what was on my plate. I was hungry for generational health and for belonging.
The Table Wasn’t Built for Me
There I was a curious college pre-med student at Oklahoma State University studying nutrition. One of the only African Americans in the program. Every class, conversation, and assignment seemed to orbit around someone else’s idea of health or plate that didn’t look like mine. I looked around and thought: Where is the food I grew up on?
Where were the pinto beans and cornbread? The collard greens cooked low and slow? Where was the goat stew, the fufu, the okra, and plantains I saw in my mama’s kitchen like those across the African diaspora?
Sure I took a “Food and Culture” class as an elective. But the fact that our foodways—our joy, our struggle, our genius—were relegated to a single semester said it all. We weren’t the main course. We were the afterthought.
So I decided to do what my ancestors always did when the door closed. I built a new table.
Sisterhood as Soil
That table became the Sisterhood Supper, an intergenerational gathering rooted in joy, justice, and food freedom. Picture it: a tent on a farm, aunties and activists, doulas and dietitians, chefs and scholars—passing the sweet potatoes and strategies, collard greens and courage. We gather not just to eat but to dream. To reclaim and remember.
The Sisterhood Supper is where food sheroes bloom.
There are women who feed communities and heal families: the grandmother growing food for the community, the nutritionist decolonizing our plates, the mother teaching children and families nutrition, the auntie who advocates for better food policies. They are more than caregivers. They are innovators, healers, changemakers, disruptors, and educators.
They are the inspiration to our daughters and sons. They are the backbone of every meal, every movement, and our food system. And yet, their stories go untold. Their leadership goes underfunded. Their brilliance goes unrecognized until now.
At the Supper, we fix more than plates. We fix systems. We raise funds for our Food Shero Freedom Fund. Because here’s the truth: wellness is not one-size-fits-all. And food freedom means honoring culture, reclaiming our food, and making room for every story at the table.
So I created WANDA: Women Advancing Nutrition Dietetics and Agriculture to change that.
We tell their stories. We fund their dreams. We train them to lead. And we build a future where they are not invisible but unapologetically in power. To advocate for them. To celebrate them. To build an ecosystem where Black women and girls can lead, thrive, and yes—bloom where they belong.
A Path Back to Belonging
This is why I believe so deeply in the power of culturally grounded wellness. Because food is not just fuel. It can be a love language. A memory. An identity.
My meals became more intentional. I swapped processed shortcuts for beans, dark greens, and heritage spices. I learned to trust my gut and realize that all I need is already within.
When my father passed I thought about how to honor his legacy through food and family history, then something clicked while I was pregnant. I was not just changing my diet. I was changing my next chapter in my food story. That is why I now teach through our WANDA Academy, where women explore not only their professional goals in leading in the food and health system but personal relationships with cultural roots, food, and sisterhood.
Because we do not just need another diet. We need a return to ourselves.
Food as Love, Food as Freedom
To anyone reading this who has felt disconnected, discouraged, or disempowered around food. I see you. Whether you are starting your first Whole30 or returning after a pause, know this:
You don’t have to become someone else to feel whole. You do not have to abandon your roots to grow. You can bloom where you belong.
That might look like adding okra back to your bowl. Or cooking jollof rice with your kids to pass down the recipes. Or simply sitting down for a meal eating mindfully. Healing can be a simple act and as revolutionary as saying, “I am worthy and deserving to eat food that nourishes me.”
Whole30 gives you the tools to listen to your body. Like my community gave me the hope to build a legacy that honors our ancestors. And together they have helped me sow the seeds of sisterhood that will bloom for a lifetime.
Why “Bloom Where You Belong” Matters Now
This Juneteenth as we gather under a tent on the farm, you will find dancing to the DJ, sipping herbal teas, getting henna tattoos, and touring the fields where our food is grown. We will line dance, laugh, celebrate, give hugs, and stretch on yoga mats—and most importantly, connect.
And yes, we will eat. But not just to nourish our bodies. We will eat to remember who we are. To reclaim what we have been told to forget. To bloom, together, in soil that feels like home.
Because in a world that often tells us to shrink, we choose to expand. To take up space. To plant ourselves firmly in our communities, in the soil, and in our purpose.
To say: We belong. We bloom. And we are just getting started.
The Beauty of Blooming
When you’re trying to bloom in a world that seems like it wasn’t built for you, it can feel like you’re pushing up through concrete. There are days when leadership can feel lonely. When health feels like a moving target. When motherhood and mission collide.
I remember one of the hardest seasons to bloom in my life was trying to build WANDA while navigating my own healing journey, supporting my kids, and grieving personal losses. The only thing that kept me grounded was returning to the kitchen. To the chopping, the sizzling, the blending, and the quiet mindfulness of preparing food that fed my soul.
Whole30 reminded me that food could be sacred again. That I didn’t have to abandon my cultural roots to be “healthy.” That I could unlearn restrictions and relearn respect for myself, for my journey, and my body.
Blooming with Whole 30: A Partnership Rooted in Food Freedom
That’s why our partnership with Whole30 is so powerful. Whole30 and WANDA share a belief that everyone deserves to feel at peace with food. That health should be culturally inclusive. That healing doesn’t start with a pill but in the community.
And now our partnership helps expand that vision, bringing Whole30 to communities often while amplifying the voices of food leaders who have always known how to remix a recipe for our health. We’re building bridges—between intention and inclusion, between community and culture. Whole30’s values of empowerment, compassion, trust, and accessibility mirror the soil we’ve been tilling through WANDA for nearly a decade.
Together we’re investing in the Food Shero Freedom Fund, which supports Black women in America and Africa pursuing degrees in food, nutrition, and agriculture.
The Food Shero Freedom Fund is how we grow that seed we were planting together. It provides mentorship and leading training through our WANDA Academy and WANDA Scholars Program.
These are not just programs. They are ecosystems of food freedom. They are designed to help more women bloom where they belong from farms, to clinics, to boardrooms, and at every table where food policy and health equity are decided.
We are cultivating the next generation of women who will feed and lead in the food system—not from behind the scenes but from the main stage. Because we don’t just need a seat at the table, we need to own the land that the table sits on.
We are reclaiming the table. Redefining what it means to be whole. And reminding the world that food freedom is not just about what we eliminate, but about what we grow.
What would it look like for you to bloom where you belong?
That’s why I wrote an essay about serving on sisterhood in “Serving Up: Essays on Food, Identity and Culture.” Because there is a hunger not just for nourishment but for narrative. For the stories behind the spice. For the why behind the what’s in your bowl.
This book is a love letter to every girl who grew up watching her mother cook with her whole soul but never saw that soul on a nutrition label. It’s for every woman who was told her food was too spicy, too “ethnic,” but knew it was her medicine.
And it is for every community organizer, educator, or auntie who is still passing down recipes or bringing women together.
So if you are reading this, wondering where you belong, whether you are on Day 1 of Whole30 or Day 10 of trying to start your healing journey. Here’s what I want you to know:
If you can’t find a space for you to belong, then build it.
Because when you bloom, you give others permission to do the same. And when we all bloom? Baby we don’t just make a garden, we make a beautiful buffet.
You belong. Your story belongs. Your food belongs. Not in the margins but at the center. Not as an exception but as an essential ingredient. So let us keep blooming. Right where we are. Together.
You can fund the future harvest at the Food Shero Freedom Fund at iamwanda.org/fund.
