It all started with tomatoes—or more accurately, the lack of them. At the community garden where I worked, our tomato plants were blooming but barely producing fruit. I suspected a pollination problem and suggested to the maintenance guy that we move the honeybee hives from another part of the property closer to our garden. He looked at me and asked, “Well, who’s going to take care of the bees?” I laughed and said, “Not me!”

At the time, I truly meant it—and I also didn’t know that honeybees aren’t usually the main pollinators for tomatoes. Native bees like bumblebees are actually much better suited for that job. But still, something about that moment stuck with me.

Fast forward to 2017, when I signed up for a bokashi composting class. One of the instructors happened to be a beekeeper and offered to split our class time between composting and visiting the hives. We agreed, and that’s when I suited up and got my first real introduction to bees. I remember standing next to the hive, feeling the warmth and hearing the low, steady hum of thousands of bees at work—it was like tapping into a rhythm older than time. I was hooked.

That moment stayed with me. In 2020, I purchased my first home and immediately signed up for a formal beekeeping class. As part of the program, I was matched with a bee mentor and began volunteering with him regularly. Week by week, I learned by doing—inspecting hives, watching the seasons change, and slowly becoming more confident in my role. Then in 2021, as a full-circle moment, my mentor gifted me my very first hive.

From “not me” to bee mama, the journey wasn’t planned—but it was absolutely meant to bee.