2 minute read

the art of paj ntaub.

monroe, washington

Hmong embroidery as floral inspiration.

Advertisement

Flower farmer Tracy Yang grows seasonal specialty-cut blooms with her partner, Nick Songsangcharntara, on land in Monroe, Washington. The name of their third-year farming enterprise, JARN Co., is inspired by the English Romanization of the Thai word that translates as “moon,” and is also a root of Nick’s surname.

People who fled Laos during the Vietnam War are part of the Hmong Diaspora, including Tracy’s parents. They lived in Thailand as refugees before migrating to the U.S. in 1979, settling in Minnesota, where there is a sizeable Hmong community.

As a teen and young adult, Tracy competed and performed hiphop dance, and later supported herself as a fitness coach, as well as massage therapist. In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic forced Tracy to stop her one-on-one client work. Instead, she helped deliver flowers for her sister’s Seattle- area farm and started apprenticing there, learning how to grow flowers from her mother, Mama Yang.

“Farming with my mom was an important connection with my Hmong heritage, and I absorbed much about my culture, and about my mother and father’s Hmong immigrant experience,” she said. “She taught me much about being Hmong-American and that our culture, the beliefs, the values, and the rituals are all rooted in agriculture.”

Until she was in her thirties, Tracy thought of gardening in terms of her father, who landscaped their yard and maintained the family’s quarter-acre vegetable patch in Minnesota. He passed away when she was 13, but Tracy said she often wonders, “What would he think about flower farming? I think he would absolutely love it. It’s something my mom and I talk about a lot when we’re in the field together. Every once in a while, she'll mention it and say, ‘flowers always make me think of your dad.’”

Tracy’s boyfriend, Nick, provided his own endorsement of flower farming, Tracy said. As an extrovert, Nick loved interacting with customers when he helped to sell flowers at the farmers’ market for Mother’s Day. “He thought it was fun,” she laughed. “I never intended to grow flowers and I knew it wasn’t easy, but his enthusiasm made me reassess.”

Joining Mama Yang at her sister’s farm in Carnation introduced Tracy to methods and techniques of market farming. “I wanted to work alongside my mother that first season, before I made any final decisions about jumping into flower farming,” she said.

Through Hmong embroidery art, Paj Ntaub, which translates as “flower cloth,” Mama Yang helped Tracy make beautiful connections between her Hmong heritage and her floral creativity. “I asked her one day when we were at the farm stand, ‘How did you learn to make bouquets?’ She said that her experience with embroidery helped her grasp the concept of bouquet design.”

With detailed patterns made by colorful threads that cover the surface of special embroidery cloth, the pieces are more than artwork. “The Paj Ntaubs are also part of Hmong storytelling, sharing folklore about Hmong life in Thailand and Laos. They are really fascinating and give me insight into how my parents lived, how they grew up, and what they went through before moving here to America,” Tracy explained.

In 2021, Tracy and Nick formed JARN Co. and leased a small parcel of land to get started. They specialize in growing high-value bulb flowers like tulips and dahlias, but also raise plenty of annuals and foliages to round out their bouquet designs. Most of their flowers are sold to professional florists who shop at the Seattle Wholesale Growers Market. In addition, they bring blooms to several area farmers’ markets, and run a local CSA program.

One of the Paj Ntaub designs is called “Lub Tsev,” which Tracy said means “The House.” “Again, this refers to our agriculture roots. It refers to the little farmhouse or even a familial house, which is a big part of the Hmong culture and lifestyle.”

While she and Nick are intent on building JARN Co. into a successful business, growing flowers is deeper than an entrepreneurial exercise, Tracy observed. “I didn't think about my Hmong heritage for a long time, but working alongside my mom was a full-circle moment for me. And I have realized, I'm right where I need to be.”

This article is from: