One Woman Reflects on Breaking Barriers Alicia Shephard recalls becoming one of the first Black winners of the Florida Strawberry Festival Baby Parade and how those moments of visibility helped shape her faith, confidence and lifelong commitment to community.
Long before she became a minister’s wife, school bus driver, and Christian author, Alicia Shephard was a toddler crossing a stage in lace socks and a handmade gown, unaware she was making local history.
In the early 1970s, during a time of racial transition across the South, Shephard, then Alicia Burch, became the first Black child to win the baby contest at the Florida Strawberry Festival. She went on to win three consecutive years, from the ages of 2 to 4.
Today, as the community observes Black History Month, Shephard reflects on what those victories meant, not only to her family, but to African American families in Plant City navigating desegregation and shifting social norms.
“It meant the world to me,” said Shephard. “I didn’t know it then, but I know now what it represented.”
The 1970s marked a period of social transformation in Florida and the South. Although legal segregation had ended, divisions and unspoken barriers lingered. Community events like the Florida Strawberry Festival were beginning to look more integrated, but participation and visibility were still evolving.
Competition did not discourage her mother, Desalene Burch.
“She didn’t have color in her heart or in her eyes,” Shephard said. “She just loved people.”

Her mother entered her every year until she aged out of the contest. Each year brought new outfits, carefully matched turbans, and tightly styled hair. Shephard still laughs about one photo in which she appears reluctant to wear her headpiece.
“I remember walking across the stage,” she said. “I remember the sand, or maybe mulch or wood chips, getting into my sandals.”
The Burch family was well known in Plant City. Her father, Henderson Burch, and mother owned Dessie’s Lunch at 710 E. Laura St., a restaurant, game room, and living quarters that operated for 52 years. Located in a neighborhood long stigmatized for poverty and crime, the business was a gathering place in the community.
“We were entrepreneurs for so many years. It was like we were millionaires,” Shepard said. “We weren’t, but we didn’t want for anything.”
Visibility at the festival extended beyond the baby parade. In 1976, Shephard rode in the festival’s Grand Parade on Felton’s Food Mart float.
Affiliated with the store through family friendships and business ties, Shephard said the invitation was both affirming and complicated. “I remember being self-conscious and embarrassed because I was overweight, because we owned a restaurant and I could eat whatever I wanted,” she said.
But she now sees that moment differently.
“We were encouraged. We were known by minorities and majorities alike,” she said. “Looking back, it means a lot to know I made strawberry history.”
Florida Strawberry Festival President Kyle Robinson said the festival’s baby parade remains one of its most time-honored traditions. “I was in the baby parade as a child, my sister was in the baby parade, and it was always a tremendous family affair for us and certainly a great community affair for everybody in Plant City,” he said.
He’s proud the tradition continues to thrive today. “Alicia’s story is just one very valuable piece of history of the Florida Strawberry Festival. I love learning more and more about festival history, and this really shows how even in the 70s it was making giant strides to be inclusive,” he said. “We still continue to strive to make sure that everyone is included in the festival.”
Shephard said that public celebration in an era of change shaped her sense of self, even when peers teased her.
“My confidence never needed to be boosted,” she said. “I knew who I was then, and I know who I am now.”
She graduated from Plant City High School despite what she describes as daily distractions — loud music, drugs, and violence — in her neighborhood on Laura Street.
“To know where I came from and where I am now brings me great joy,” she said.
Now living outside Plant City, Shephard is married to Allen Shephard, a pastor and former high school athlete. She retired after 22 years as a bus driver with the Polk County School Board and has written two Christian prayer and devotion books. She credits her faith with guiding her through darker chapters of her life.
“I’ve come out of darkness into a marvelous light,” she said. “I give God the glory for it all.”
As Black History Month shines a spotlight on local pioneers, Shephard hopes her story underscores how small but visible victories can contribute to broader inclusion.
“I try to encourage not just minorities, but all children,” she said. “If there’s darkness, be the light. Step into places where people say you’re not invited or accepted. Do what has not been done.”
Shephard said she is considering entering the parade again, this time as an adult, to see how the festival has evolved.
“That was my only time on a float,” she said. “I would love to do it again.”
For her, the sandy stage of her childhood represents more than a memory. It is a marker of progress — personal and communal — and a reminder that even a child in ruffled socks can help widen the path for those who follow.
