An Inspired Chat with Rachel Opio of Central Phoenix

Rachel Opio shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.

Hi Rachel, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What do you think others are secretly struggling with—but never say?
I think others are secretly struggling with the pressure to appear okay, even when they’re not. People often hide their struggles whether it’s emotional, financial, or personal because they’re afraid of being judged or seen as weak. But I believe many of us are silently carrying burdens we don’t let others see.

Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m Rachel Opio, the owner of Little Lighthouse Farm, a certified organic regenerative urban farm based in Phoenix, Arizona. I’m proud to be one of only two Black farmers in Arizona who are certified organic. My farm was born out of a desire to provide accessible, nutrient-dense food for my community while honoring the Earth through sustainable farming practices.

Accessibility is central to everything I do. I’m committed to ensuring that healthy, fresh food is available to everyone, regardless of income. At Little Lighthouse Farm, I accept SNAP, WIC, and Senior Farmers Market Nutrition Program benefits, and I’m actively working to expand community access through initiatives like mobile markets and farm-based education.

What makes my farm unique is not just the organic certification, but also the focus on decolonizing our food systems. I believe that food sovereignty is a form of resistance and healing, and through my work, I aim to reconnect people with the land and their food. I’m passionate about creating spaces where education, empowerment, and sustainable practices come together to build a healthier, more equitable food system for all.

Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
Before the world told me who I had to be, I was desperate for my Blackness, but I didn’t fully understand its power. The murder of George Floyd became a turning point for me. It made me realize that our Blackness is not just something to be accepted but something to be celebrated. It is the most precious resource in the universe. It was then that I began to truly see our greatness and step into my true self, unapologetically proud of who we are.

What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
The defining wounds of my life are numerous and layered. Growing up, I was incredibly overweight, constantly battling with my body and the shame that came with it. My parents, despite their love, tried their best to whitewash me, distancing me from my roots and Black identity. I spent so much of my childhood desperate for a connection to my ancestors, to my family, anything that could ground me in who I really was.

I also grew up feeling like I wasn’t enough. No matter what I did, I always felt like I was falling short, not meeting expectations. And, of course, losing my mom was the deepest wound, one that still lingers.

I won’t pretend I’m healed. I’m not. I’m still carrying those wounds, and they shape the way I move through the world. But I’m learning to live with them, to accept them as part of my story. I’m not okay, but I’m still here, still fighting to find peace, and to reclaim the parts of myself I was taught to suppress.

Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I am unwavering in my commitment to food sovereignty as an act of resistance and reclamation. I believe that true freedom starts with our ability to control what we eat, how we grow it, and who gets access to it. This isn’t just a project, it’s a mission to dismantle the systems that have disconnected us from the land, from our ancestors, and from the nourishment we deserve. No matter how long it takes, I will continue to fight for a food system that is rooted in justice, healing, and empowerment for Black and Indigenous communities. This is my life’s work, and I won’t stop until it’s realized.

Thank you so much for all of your openness so far. Maybe we can close with a future oriented question. What pain do you resist facing directly?
The pain I resist facing directly is the crippling anxiety and depression that hold me down, making it hard to breathe some days. It’s not just the loss of my mother, it’s the suffocating weight of feeling like I’m constantly drowning. Every day feels like a fight to stay afloat. I resist facing it fully because doing so means admitting just how broken I feel inside, how much I’ve struggled with my own mind and body, and how often I feel like I’m not enough. The pain is so deep, it feels like it could consume me if I let it. So instead, I keep pushing, trying to outrun it, even though I know it’s always there.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://littlelighthousefarm.com
• Instagram: @littlelighthousefarm @farming_in_js
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rachel-opio-msp-04447350/

Image Credits
Edible Phoenix