In the rich red soil of Alabama, where history runs deep and family trees stretch long into the past, James’ story begins—not just as a tale of one man’s return to the land, but as a generational journey rooted in purpose, healing, and legacy.
Before becoming a Moringa cultivator, community healer, and global advocate, James was a man searching for direction. That path took a dramatic turn when he enrolled in the Moringa For Life course—a program that didn’t just teach him how to grow a tree, but how to transform a life. The experience was so profound, so catalytic, that it sparked what he now calls his Moringa journey—a mission to heal himself, his family, and his community through one of the most nutrient-dense plants on Earth.
That single spark gave rise to Con10u2farmL3c, his Alabama-based farming entity focused on food justice and regenerative agriculture, as well as two innovative platforms—Moringatang.com a multi-cultural and educational Moringa Product and Consulting firm. He is a Vice Chairman of the board at Omnigro.net which was founded by his partners daughter (Andrea Wilson) after being awarded a USDA Innovative grant in 2023, and now offers modular, hydroponics, aquaponics, substrate, scalable, energy efficient, simplified setup and installation off-grid gardening systems, for 21st Century Urban Farmers, globally and designed for maximum equity, and longterm sustainable food security. These aren’t just businesses. They’re blueprints for a better world.
But James didn’t start as a farmer. In fact, he ran from it.
As a young man growing up on his grandfather’s 200-acre farm—complete with cattle, chickens, guineas, and more—he knew hard work and rural life intimately. But by the time he turned 18, he was drafted into the military, trading rows of crops for rows of marching boots. Farming, he thought, wasn’t his future.
But the land, like legacy, has a way of calling you home.
In 2015, while attending a six-week hydroponics class for veterans in Escondido, California, James encountered something unexpected: peace. “I found it was therapeutic,” he says. “It just stuck with me.” From hydroponics to aquaponics, and eventually to aeroponics, James began growing again—this time, not just plants, but a new purpose.
Then came Moringa.
The Mother Tree: A Rooted Revelation
Everything shifted for James during the Growers & Educators Course with Moringa For Life, when the class came together to transplant the Mother Tree. As they lifted and moved the towering Moringa, James found himself fixated on its massive taproot. “It was so impressive, that root system. I was just staring at it,” he recalls. And in that moment, it all crystallized. What if this was more than a tree? What if these roots represented our people—our resilience, our connection, our legacy?
That single moment, that powerful metaphor, became a mission.
James took that epiphany home to Alabama, to acres of inherited family land that had long stood mostly unused. He proposed an idea to his brother: a family legacy project rooted—literally—in Moringa. Together, they cleared two acres and planted 200 Moringa trees, each representing a family member. Each rooted in their name. Each a living testament.
It wasn’t easy.
“Honestly, not everyone was on board at first,” James says. “It’s still family land, and people had their own ideas about what should happen to it.” So, he did what many of us dream of but few follow through on—he called a family meeting. A Zoom call brought everyone together. He shared the vision, showed them their lineage, and proposed a living family tree that you could walk through.
At the entrance to the land now stands a large mounted family chart, detailing their great-grandparents and all the branches that have grown since. “When you walk in, you see your family. You see your name. You see your tree.”
The idea began to take root.
Planting Legacy: From Rosa Parks to Dr. Carver
James didn’t stop with just the living members of his family. He created an honorary section—trees planted for “community heroes.” Among them? Rosa Parks, who was James’ grandfather’s second cousin. George Washington Carver, too, holds a place in this grove of legacy. “Turns out,” James reflects, “Dr. Carver used to ride with my uncle. I didn’t know all that until we started digging into the family tree.”
It’s fitting, really, that a tree so rich in nutrients, so generous in health benefits, would become the symbol of a family with roots in civil rights and scientific breakthroughs. Moringa, known as the “miracle tree,” provides leaves that can be dried and powdered into superfood supplements. Its seeds can purify water. Its roots hold the soil—and now, the story—together.
“This is more than just a tree,” James says. “It’s history. It’s healing. It’s hope.”
Healing the Community, One Tree at a Time
But James’ vision stretches far beyond his own family. The community of Alabama—and particularly Black families in rural areas—have often been left out of conversations around sustainable agriculture, health equity, and food sovereignty. James sees Moringa as a bridge to all three.
With Alabama’s poor air quality, high rates of diabetes and hypertension, and pervasive food deserts, the Moringa tree is more than symbolic—it’s a solution. “It’s healing the soil. It’s healing the body. And it’s free. I tell people, ‘Come by, pick some leaves, take some home.” Make tea. Eat the seeds. It’s for the people.
In its third year now, the Moringa grove has faced its share of challenges. Harsh winters in Alabama have stunted the trees’ growth, forcing replanting. “But I’m hoping soon the roots will be deep enough that they just go dormant, and come back stronger.”
That seems to be a metaphor for James himself—and for the people he serves.
Saying Yes: From LA Pop-Ups to Global Partnerships
While James plants roots in Alabama, he’s sprouting branches everywhere else.
In Long Beach, CA, he supports a pop-up mobile market that brings fresh produce directly to food-insecure neighborhoods. “The health department tracks food deserts and disease patterns. They actually issue $25 coupons to people to buy from the market,” James explains. “So we’re showing up where people live—senior centers, public housing—with affordable, fresh food.”
And the model is scalable. “We’re designing off-grid grow systems—solar powered, water efficient, and able to produce up to $225,000 a year from just 800 square feet of space. Imagine these microfarms on every block,” he says. “You grow off-grid. You deliver off-grid. Zero carbon footprint. It’s vertical integration for food justice.”
But James’ journey doesn’t stop at state lines.
Through a chance connection with acclaimed Moringa chef and author Mohana Gill and global Moringa for Life Ambassador, Amit Barikari, in India, James has found himself speaking at universities, participating in international forums, and guiding farmers from Sri Lanka to Dominica in the ways of growing and utilizing Moringa.
He still laughs at how it all unfolded. “I was just taking the Moringa Ambassador online class. I didn’t know where it would lead. But the plant… the plant opened doors. All I did was keep saying yes.”
The Music of Moringa
There’s a spiritual rhythm to James’ story. From the music his mother played that touched him during early community events, to the quiet conversations he has with elders in wheelchairs at pop-up markets, it’s clear: this work sings.
“It’s hard to explain, but Moringa has a frequency to it,” James says. “I’ve seen people chew the seeds and cry. They feel something. They say, ‘I’ve never felt this kind of energy before.’ It’s alive.”
And perhaps what makes it most alive is James’ unwavering belief that small shifts—0.001 degrees of perspective—can change everything. That a single tree can change a family. That a garden can transform a neighborhood. That a root can reconnect a legacy.
A Tree for Every Family
“I want my own tree in Alabama,” I told James at the end of our conversation. And I meant it. Because the beauty of this movement isn’t just in the leaves or the seeds—it’s in the way it makes you want to belong to something bigger. To plant something. To connect with your people.
James is building something powerful—not just a farm, or a food system, or a family tree—but a movement. One where soil holds stories. Where health grows on branches. Where legacies are watered by vision.
He doesn’t know where the next chapter of his journey will take him. But he’ll keep showing up—with open hands, open heart, and a pocketful of seeds.
Because in the end, the roots always remember the way home.