Nobody had grown Lenape corn or Nanticoke squash in a stretch of West Philadelphia soil for centuries — until a pair of sisters showed up with seeds, a shovel, and a mowed-over vacant lot.
- 3 vacant Philadelphia lots converted into native gardens since April
- 2,250 sq ft — size of the flagship Seeds Indigenous listening garden
- 40,000 vacant lots citywide the project hopes to inspire others to reclaim
- 10+ years of tending required under Pennsylvania's adverse possession law to eventually secure the land
From mowed lawn to living seed bank
The organization behind the project, We Are the Seeds, is run by sisters Tailinh Agoyo and Xiao Hui Star. Star is a member of Rhode Island's Narragansett tribe and manages new initiatives for the group, which hosts public events on Indigenous arts and culture.
Star searched the city's land bank database for vacant, sun-soaked lots with low soil toxicity. She picked a sparse plot in West Philadelphia that the Philadelphia Horticultural Society had been mowing as a lawn — flat, legal to plant on, and otherwise doing nothing for the neighborhood.
In April, the group began planting corn, beans, squash, sunflowers, and sweetgrass there as part of the LandBack movement, which campaigns to return land sovereignty and stewardship to Native people. The seeds came from heirloom-preservation groups including Truelove Seeds and the Seed Savers Exchange.
"These are very special endangered varieties that we are rematriating back to the soil," said Star. "Who knows how many centuries it's been since a Lenape corn or a Nanticoke squash have grown in this soil."
What grew back besides the vegetables
The garden isn't grown for food — neighbors are welcome to pick corn and herbs, but the real yield is ecological and social. Native plants need less water than ornamental exotics because they're matched to the local soil and climate, and they feed and shelter the birds and insects that evolved alongside them.
Research on vacant-lot greening backs up the ripple effect the sisters are after: studies published in the American Journal of Community Psychology and JAMA Network Open have linked revitalized vacant land to reduced neighborhood violence and improved mental health.
Philadelphia has roughly 40,000 vacant lots, a legacy of decades of redlining and disinvestment. The city has taken notice of the model: in April it launched its own pilot, Lotscapes, aiming to convert 10 of its roughly 8,000 land-bank lots into gardens and gathering spaces, with residents choosing the design for lots in their own neighborhoods.
Planting a model, not just a garden
We Are the Seeds opened its first lot with a ceremony where Indigenous dancers performed a corn dance, joined by neighbors from a nearby community garden and a youth football team that helped cast seeds after practice. The group is now working to secure a long-term mortgage and deed to the land through Pennsylvania's adverse possession statute, which grants ownership after at least a decade of tending a plot as a garden.
Co-founder Tailinh Agoyo sees the three lots as a proof of concept rather than an endpoint. "That's where the growth would go," she said of future expansion across the city's vacant land. "That's where the ripple effect would happen."
Her advice for anyone elsewhere hoping to start something similar is simple. "Start in your backyard," Agoyo said. "There's just so much that we can all do individually to make a difference."



