CHAPEL HILL, N.C. — On a cool spring morning, rows of bok choy, fennel, carrots and turnips sway gently in the breeze, tended by families who fled war and hardship halfway around the world. At Transplanting Traditions Community Farm, refugee families are finding healing, community and a fresh start.
The farmers at Transplanting Traditions are from Myanmar, formerly known as Burma. Sirr Sirr Thart didn’t expect to find peace on a small farm in North Carolina.
“Civil war is going on constantly. It wasn’t safe to live there,” Thart said of her native country.
After fleeing war and spending nearly a decade in refugee camps, she now grows vegetables on land that has come to represent safety, stability and a new beginning.
Thart and others, like fellow farmer Ha Na, belong to the Karen ethnic minority, a group long targeted by the military in Myanmar. Many spent years living in refugee camps in Thailand before resettling in North Carolina.
“We had to hide in the jungle, in the forest to escape,” Ha Na recalled. “The soldiers in the military would follow us. It’s like bullets are following us along the way.”
Today, Thart and Ha Na grow rows of vegetables, both native to Southeast Asia and familiar to American grocery shoppers. What began 15 years ago as a small community garden has grown into a fully operational farm. The land not only helps feed their families, but also serves as a source of income through farmers markets and subscription produce boxes.
“We started out with like 2 acres or so, now we’re at 8 acres. All of the space has been maxed out,” said Ree Ree Wei, the group’s executive director.
Wei understands the journey firsthand. She was born in a refugee camp in Thailand and moved to the United States when she was 8 years old. Her parents have farmed at Transplanting Traditions for more than a decade.
“I remember when I was a teenager, we’d have to get up early every Saturday morning to go weed,” Wei said. “I hated it. But now I really enjoy it.”“I remember when I was a teenager, we’d have to get up early every Saturday morning to go weed,” Wei said. “I hated it. But now I really enjoy it.”
Once a helping hand and youth intern at the farm, she now leads the nonprofit. Since its founding 15 years ago, the farmers have earned more than $2 million in income. Many work the fields during the day and take on housekeeping or custodial jobs at UNC in the evenings. Some have been able to turn farming into their full-time livelihood.
“They could save slowly to buy land to build infrastructure on their new land,” Wei said. “Then hopefully they can transition out of our incubation space, to make new room for other farmers.”
Farming in North Carolina is an adjustment for many. While agriculture is part of Burmese heritage, the weather, soil and tools are different from what they knew back home.
“We teach them how to install irrigation, the importance of using drip tape, how to build high tunnels,” Wei said.
Families from similar backgrounds are rebuilding their lives and forming new friendships, connected by shared traditions and struggles they’ve faced. The farm strengthens that sense of community by hosting potlucks, fundraisers and cultural events. For many, it’s also a place of healing and belonging.
“Farming is what gives me the motivation to go through the day, to grow and be with the planted vegetable,” Ha Na said.
Beyond farming, the organization runs youth programs that combine cultural education with hands-on skills, from cooking and gardening to public speaking and advocacy. Students also receive tutoring and mentoring to help them adjust to life in the U.S.
Just off the field stands a bamboo house, built to resemble the homes families once lived in during their time in refugee camps.
“We did this intentionally,” Wei said. “The children in our programs know what their parents lived through. It’s not their identity, but it’s part of their identity too.”
They may be thousands of miles from the homes they once knew, but here on this North Carolina soil, they’re safe and free to plant the roots for what comes next.