Yer Yang’s stall and its accompanying pails of flower bouquets spread out to greet market patrons as they enter Kingfield Farmers Market from the sidewalk along Nicollet Avenue. The riotously colored bouquets run just a few dollars, and they are crafted each Sunday morning by Yer Yang and her daughters, Pa and Ma. After sniffing around the flowers for a bit, waiting for a break in the steady stream of customers, I got the chance to speak with Pa while her mother, Yer, set out pints of green beans.

Pa was a young child when her family arrived in the US as political refugees. She spent much of her childhood when not in school tagging along beside the older members of her family working among the vegetables. “We’ve been farming since we got to the US,” says Pa. Speaking to Ma later, she concurred, adding that it is often the logical choice for first-generation Hmong immigrants. “That’s all they know, so it’s what they do…it’s good, because they don’t need English for it.”

Pa told me that her family farms four acres in Anoka and one acre in Rosemount; it was Anoka in the morning, Rosemount in the afternoon. “But isn’t Anoka north of the Cities, and Rosemount to the south?” I asked, astounded. Ma explained the difficulty, particularly for Hmong farmers, of renting land close to the metro area: land was constantly under threat of being sold to developers, and quite frequently there was discrimination; Hmong farmers aren’t always seen by landowners as the safest investment. Plus, not any land will suffice; it has have good soil to be worth farming. “Finding land is really hard. It depends on the land for the veggies to be good. But it also depends if they want to rent it to you,” says Ma. This lack of security means that it is difficult to plan for the future (planting perennial crops like apples, for example, is a huge gamble on short-term rented land). It is also difficult to make the investment in soil quality that is crucial for farmers not using chemical fertilizers; imagine building up organic matter in the soil for years to restore natural fertility, then losing the land to development.

Yer has downsized her farm in recent years. Her children who used to help out every day are adults now, and are in college, or married, or otherwise followed their life paths. Pa and Ma continue to work with their mother whenever she can. “I help out once or twice a week, usually at the farmer’s market,” says Pa. The farm continues because of Yer’s dedication and hard work, with the support of her children. “She’s there everyday!” says Pa. “I never see her not go to farm. Even if no one goes with her, she goes.”

All of this results in a seasonal bounty of produce. It seems as if Pa and Ma have vegetables coming out their ears by midsummer, almost more than they know what to do with. “We eat whatever she grows, she grows so much. We end up giving it away to families. I have my friends come over and pick.”

This bounty has sparked the interest of other, younger relatives outside of the Yang family. Yer is beginning to teach a young family who want to start farming, helping them to apprentice at her farm before starting out on their own. Where does Yer’s strength for all of this come from? “It’s something that she’s good at,” confirms Ma.

© Hannah Rivenburgh for Kingfield Farmers Market