School Food Gardens: How and Why
An Exploration Into the Potential for School Food Gardens
Hey, friends! I’m so excited you’re here. Below is my first published piece of virtual writing (which I would love for you to read)… But if you’d like to see what I’ve been up to since, head over to Crosson’s Classroom! That’s the space I post all of my new writing to. Okay, carry on! ♡
Welcome.
Join me, on my journey of exploring my hometown’s urban agricultural systems. I urge you, too, to consider a ‘hopeful’ definition of urban agriculture, that explores civic growth and development programs rooted in community, accessibility, and collaboration as I did while writing this piece. Engaging with this definition will (hopefully) inspire agricultural programs that address the needs of this community, both for current populations and generations to come.
The following excerpts will take us from my backyard to our local grocery store, and are derived from personal fieldwork sessions in which I strive to answer the question of how school food gardens can serve to benefit students and their greater communities by reducing food insecurity and enhancing environmental, social, and cultural well-being. As you read (or listen) along, try to appreciate the interconnectivity of the systems mentioned, understanding how they work now and how they can be transformed to better serve our environment, our bodies, and our communities.
As I sit on our family’s back deck, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells around me, I take a moment’s pause.
Breathing in, I observe the life supported by this space. I enjoy the bird’s midmorning songs, watch my sister’s dog run across the grass, and appreciate the flowers emerging in the garden beds, reminding me that spring is almost here.
Exhaling, I close my eyes and reimagine the potential that this space holds. Gratefulness for what exists arises alongside a nagging desire to entirely repurpose the land, for though it has served my family well since we were young, I can’t help but ponder who else could benefit it as well.
I turn my attention to the fence on my right. A physical separation between the abundant gardens that are my neighbour’s pride and joy, and our yard. My mouth waters and stomach growls as I recall all of the food-gifts she has placed on this fence throughout the years; plump tomatoes, cucumbers larger than any I’ve found in supermarkets, and peppers of more varieties than I can even recall. Each bite of my neighbour’s gifts took me back to when I was a young girl, playing in the gardens with my Mother and racing my sister to the backyard hose to wash off our dug-up ‘treats’.
I can’t help but feel overwhelming guilt as I tear myself from the past and turn again to the present. I consciously take the time to recognize how this land has served us. From the huge Mock Orange trees that finally begun to flower summers ago, to the roses in front of which I took my high-school graduation photos, all of the plants serve a purpose. Whether beautiful to look at, delightful to smell, refuge from the summer’s sun for the cats, or as ornate scratching posts for the dogs, each tree, bush, and flower has its place. Yet, what about all of the spaces in between?
Reflecting on my last session, my heart aches knowing that even if I were to create a beautiful, productive garden on my family’s property, its life would likely only be as long as the time I personally dedicate to it.
With no other family members having any inclination to grow food, I fear that initiatives would be fruitless and unsustainable here. Perhaps, then, my community can provide a solution?
In search of this, I walk to my town’s community gardens. All the while I hold in my mind the same question that I found myself pondering at our home: How can urban agriculture strategies be implemented to better purpose the abundance of natural space that our community holds? For as beautiful as the many gardens, fields, and recreational spaces in this small town are, they are not nearly as productive as could be.
Remnants of last years apparently bountiful harvest in the community gardens remind me that while there is room for further development, there are existing initiatives in use today. Rows upon rows of raised beds tell stories that I only wish I had experienced in person. The notice attached to the gates, warning members to heed caution when gardening and observe COVID19 guidelines prompts me to investigate how the program was affected during the pandemic. Articles posted from the summer of 2020 commend community volunteers who chose to produce extra food to be given back to those in need amidst the pandemic, reminding me how lucky I am to be a part of such a cooperative community.
On my way home during another fieldwork session, I pause at arrival of our hundred year old “Brick School” where I spent much of my youth learning, playing, and exploring nature.
This space solidifies my hypothesis about underused space all too well. Featuring multiple fields, playgrounds, buildings, and a large wooded area in the back of the property, I find myself wondering why there are no gardens on the grounds. For in a town with ideal growing conditions, a deeply rooted culture of supporting local, and a large vulnerable population, it comes as a shock to me that we only have one community garden in use today, especially with so much opportunity elsewhere. Upon deeper reflection I realize that not only this school has space for gardens, but so does the other three in this town — so then, why are we not harnessing this capacity for food production?
My partner and I lace up our boots and don our winter jackets in preparation of a visit to one of our local trails.
For someone who holds deep appreciation for the hustle-and-bustle that a concrete jungle offers, he does an excellent job of entertaining my love of the outdoors. In an effort to share this adoration for the natural world around me, I take care to reminisce out loud, telling him stories of the many days spent wandering the woods, hiking these trails, and foraging in the forests. We share a laugh about last summer, when against his will I pulled the car over during a hot summer’s day to forage Saskatoon berries on the side of the road. “Come on! They’re almost as good as the Salmonberries I brought home from my hike, I promise!” I pleaded, like a small child. To humour me, he popped one into his mouth. I instantly recognized the satisfaction of tasting the rich berries that I myself look forward to each summer, and took the chance to laugh at him as he grabbed another handful.
When we reach the trail, I share with him what the surrounding land is used for, reminding him to stay on the path so as not to disrupt the farmland it crosses through. “This is my favourite hideaway, where you can get lost in the trees and forget for a moment that you’re still within city limits” I remark. With each turn, we recognize different aspects of the land and its respective uses. I tell him of the animals that the space belongs to, reminding him that it is from here we hear the coyotes sing come nightfall and urging him to look for the deer and other wildlife usually visible just off the trails. In this moment, I thank the land for providing me with the opportunity to explore this space, breathe fresh air, listen to nature’s songs, and to experience all that is this haven for our community’s wildlife.
Identifying which products come from the area is not necessarily difficult in this town, with “Shop Local!” tags featured on everything from locally-roasted coffee beans to the carrots I harvested on my bosses farm last summer.
The true difficulty is in affording the cost associated with these goods — $5.00 for a small bag of local potatoes as opposed to the large bag of imported potatoes at half the cost next to it. The voice in my head reminds me of a saying I heard long ago, urging me to choose foods consciously and wisely because you either
‘pay your farmer now, or your doctor later’.
Yet, buying local and organic foods was much easier to justify before the pandemic, before tuition payments, and before supporting my partner as he immigrates to Canada. I let out an audible sigh, knowing that choosing to buy as many products as I can produced in the area today will likely mean I cannot do the same tomorrow. Briefly, I reminisce in my year in Mexico, where each weekend I would venture to the local Tianguis to purchase as many bags as I could carry of fresh fruits, vegetables and herbs. No fancy packaging, no ‘perfect’ produce, and no inflated prices (if you were good enough at bartering, that is). What is so different here, then? In knowing that many of these fruits and vegetables were harvested from within a 10 minute drive of where I am buying them, why is it that I as a consumer am faced with the choice of supporting local or draining my bank account one grocery shop at a time? Surely, there must be a solution where we can support our farmers, sustain our environment, and reduce food insecurity. Especially in a town comprised largely of young family’s and retired peoples, reducing food costs should be at the top of our civic planner’s lists.
That’s enough reflection, for now. It is time to turn our focus to the future. To do this, I asked myself: How is it, that I as an aspiring Elementary Teacher could engage these experiences, leverage my knowledge, and employ my aspiration for providing healthy/low-cost options for food in my community? The answer seemed glaringly obvious. School Food Gardens.
Digging deeper, as Robin Wall Kimmerer remarked in, ‘The Serviceberry,” I too dream of existing in a community wealthy enough to share its abundance and kind enough to do so from one generation to the next. I long for one which is interdependent on one another rather than on the consumerist economic structure in which we are currently suffocating.
Unsurprisingly, research into the topic reinforced my understanding of this initiative’s capacity. By taking learning outside, educators around the world have successfully implemented food gardens in schools, and our province has been no exception. With already existing programs like Healthy Eating at School, Society Promoting Environmental Conservation’s ‘School Gardens Program’, and Farm to School BC, opportunity for implementation of such a program seems highly accessible here, too.
The question I posed at the beginning of this piece is at least in part answered by this finding. Should more schools integrate food gardens into their curriculum, they could play a key role in the reduction of food insecurity by providing free food to children and their families, enhance learner’s understanding of where food really comes from, and form a positive relationship between our youth and the natural world around them. In addition, Moira Beery et al. found school gardens to have a plethora of “physical, mental, and emotional benefits,” including heightened academic achievement, improved behaviour, and life-skill development. In the post-COVID age of education, where our children and youth have been subject to increased stresses and concurrently deprived of social interaction, benefits such as this need be the focal point of future educational planning.
Further, this is an opportunity to integrate lessons of reconciliation and of traditional food harvesting practices into our school systems. Take the expertise of T’uy’t’tanat-Cease Wyss, for example, who teaches of the medicinal capacities that traditional plants hold and the language they speak to guide us to these uses in her TEDx talk on “Bridging the gap between modern and ancient medicines”. School gardens therefore hold potential for the fortification of ancestral knowledge and pose an opportunity for youth to acknowledge the traditional uses for the lands on which they learn and live.
This is not to suggest that the task is easy. If it were, all of our schools would likely be endeavouring the project already. However, with pilot programs having being implemented in various BC communities, the framework for food production within our hardiness zones and in the context of our provincial curriculum have already been established.
Barriers such as summer care have already been addressed too — take Blue Mountain Elementary School, for instance, who established a relationship with the Alouette Corrections Center. The inmates now provide summer groundskeeping and development, as referenced by the Healthy Eating at School Program. Could this not be extended to Retirement Communities or already existing Summer Camps in our area? I think so.
Need a program model, literary resources, or access to provincial grants? Farm to School BC provides links to all of these on their website, too. These are a few examples of the readily available resources for educators as they explore this potential.
Not only is this an opportunity to reap the aforementioned benefits of ‘hopeful urban agriculture,’ but it is one with the capacity to transform underused space into productive lands. If you’re not yet convinced (or maybe you’re now inspired to explore this in your own community!), take a look at the infographic I have created below…
Thank you.
*If you would like to take a peek at the texts I referenced in my work, please look at the below resources!
Referenced Work:
Beery, Moira, et al. “School Food Gardens: Fertile Ground for Education.” Health Education, vol. 114, no. 4, 2014, pp. 281–292., doi:10.1108/he-05–2013–0019.
“Bringing Healthy, Local Food to Schools.” Farm to School BC, 1 Mar. 2021, farmtoschoolbc.ca/.
Chen, Grace. “Straight from School Gardens to Lunchrooms: Delicious or Dangerous?” Public School Review, 27 Oct. 2010, www.publicschoolreview.com/blog/straight-from-school-gardens-to-lunchrooms-delicious-or-dangerous.
Cease Wyss. “Bridging the gap between modern and ancient medicines.” TEDxECUAD. 2017.
“How to Start a School Garden: Your Complete Guide.” Eartheasy Guides & Articles, learn.eartheasy.com/guides/how-to-start-a-school-garden-your-complete-guide/.
Malberg Dyg, Pernille, and Karen Wistoft. “Wellbeing in School Gardens — the Case of the Gardens for Bellies Food and Environmental Education Program.” Environmental Education Research, vol. 24, no. 8, 2018, pp. 1177–1191., doi:10.1080/13504622.2018.1434869.
Ozer, Emily J. “The Effects of School Gardens on Students and Schools: Conceptualization and Considerations for Maximizing Healthy Development.” Health Education & Behavior, vol. 34, no. 6, 2006, pp. 846–863., doi:10.1177/1090198106289002.
Robin, Kimmerer Wall. “The Serviceberry: An Economy of Abundance” Emergence Magazine, 11 Mar. 2021, emergencemagazine.org/essay/the-serviceberry/.
“School Food Gardens-Challenges, Barriers and How to Overcome Them.” Healthy Eating At School, n.d. Healthyeatingatschool.ca/take-action/school-food-gardenschallenges-barriers-and-how-to-overcome-them.
“School Gardens Program.” SPEC, www.spec.bc.ca/school-gardens.
