Telling Our Story
Dibaajimooyung
Boozhoo! Waabigwan Niiji! Hello Flower Friend!
Waabigwan Flower Farm didn’t start with a big plan — it started with curiosity. Around 2020, I began getting really into gardening and homesteading. What began as houseplants slowly grew into a large vegetable garden, learning how to cook from scratch, and eventually planting a small handful of flowers. In 2022, I made my first bouquet, and that was it — I was hooked. I fell in love with the creativity flowers allowed and the joy of turning something grown by hand into something beautiful for someone else.
I’ve always been a crafty, hands-on person, and growing flowers brings together so many things I love: caring for living things, working with the seasons, and creating something meaningful. I still grow a large vegetable garden alongside my flower field, but there’s something special about harvesting flowers — watching a tiny seed turn into a bloom that can brighten someone’s day or mark an important moment.
The name Waabigwan — the Ojibwe word for “flower” — was chosen intentionally. When I first started naming the farm, I didn’t even know the word myself. Now, I love that people who may not be Native are learning it, speaking it, and carrying it into everyday life. Keeping language alive can happen in small ways, and this is one of mine.
Waabigwan is currently grown in my backyard — about 1,200 square feet — in Rosebush, Michigan, on the Isabella Indian Reservation. This is my fourth year growing flowers and my second year doing so on a larger scale. Everything is grown without chemicals, and everything I know has come from learning as I go, trial and error, and paying close attention to the land. As an Indigenous grower, respecting the soil and learning regenerative practices feels essential — the land gives so much, and I believe it deserves care in return.
This work is also deeply personal. I lost my dad in January of 2022, and during that time, I leaned hard into this lifestyle as a way to cope and heal. Learning how to grow food, preserve harvests, and build practical skills gave me something steady to hold onto. Being prepared — not in an extreme way, but in a grounded, capable way — has become important to me. Knowing how to provide, create, and care feels like a quiet form of resilience.
Today, Waabigwan offers seasonal market bouquets, flower subscriptions, DIY wedding flowers, and small community-centered offerings like the Waabigwan Wagon. My goal is simple: I want flowers to feel accessible and special at the same time. Whether they’re being held by a child at the farmers market, arranged by a DIY bride on a budget, or placed on a kitchen table just because — they matter.
I’m a homesteading, homeschooling, stay-at-home mom, a wife, and a graphic designer, and Waabigwan lives right in the middle of all of that. One day, I hope to grow beyond the backyard into a place where people can come pick flowers, spend time together, and slow down — something like a flower-filled version of a pumpkin patch.
For now, Waabigwan remains small, seasonal, and intentional — grown with care, creativity, and a lot of heart.
