Seed Sovereignty: The Importance of Saving Your Own Seed
In the spring of 2012, my family and I built 18 raised cedar beds on a quarter-acre of land, surrounding it with a sturdy deer fence. What started as a simple vegetable garden—a way to grow fresh produce—soon became a passion. Each season, I dove into seed catalogs, dreaming of new plants to grow. My garden became a place of experimentation and discovery.
At first, seed saving wasn’t even on my radar. Like most gardeners, I bought seeds annually and started fresh each spring. But in 2023, my perspective shifted when I planted cut flowers for the first time. Zinnias and cosmos stole my heart that year. Their beauty inspired me, and I couldn’t wait to grow more. The following year, as I planned my wedding, I decided to grow the flowers myself. That decision sparked a deeper love for gardening and led me to the transformative insights of Erin Benzakein of Floret Flowers, who introduced me to the art of seed saving.
By 2024, I decided to start my flower farm, and seed saving became a core practice. I began to see myself not just as a gardener, but as a seed keeper—a steward of potential and a protector of biodiversity. Collecting seeds from any plant I could became second nature, and each seed I saved felt like a connection to something greater.
Saving seeds is more than a gardening habit—it’s an act of resistance, resilience, and reconnection. As a Native American women, this practice ties me to my roots, reminding me of the ways my ancestors lived in harmony with the land. Indigenous communities have long understood the importance of seed sovereignty, not just for sustenance but for preserving cultural identity and spiritual connection. Reclaiming seeds and saving them feels like a way to honor that legacy, to reconnect with my culture, and to pass these traditions on to the next generation.
In the 1800s, nearly 90% of Americans were farmers, growing their own food and harvesting their own seeds. Back then, seed saving was a natural and vital part of life, passed down through generations. Communities shared seeds freely, ensuring the survival of crops and the vitality of local food systems. Over time, however, the agricultural landscape changed, and today, the seed market in the U.S. is heavily concentrated. Just a handful of corporations control much of the global seed supply, holding patents and intellectual property rights over plant varieties. This consolidation means they dictate what can be grown, where, and by whom, often limiting the autonomy of farmers and gardeners.
As I delved deeper, I began to understand how critical seed sovereignty is—a movement to reclaim the right to save, use, and share seeds freely. It’s about more than seeds; it’s about protecting our food systems, preserving cultural heritage, and fostering resilience in the face of a changing world.
Being a seed keeper means more than saving seeds for my garden—it’s about safeguarding our shared heritage and honoring the connection between people and the land. While I admire the work of plant breeders, I believe no one should monopolize the rights to living organisms that are vital to our ecosystems. Seeds should remain accessible to all, not controlled by a select few. Preserving these resources ensures not just the future of farming and gardening but also the resilience and health of our communities.
