Before you begin reading, I must warn you--this is not a post about a metaphorical garden, where young minds must grow and prosper, blah, blah, blah...This is an actual, honest to goodness garden, a very cool place at my school, tucked away between two buildings. Six years ago, when I started working there, it was nothing but a dusty patch of grass. Trying to find a way out of the confining four walls of my room during good weather, I began searching for a good place to take my class out to read. You know, take them out into the sunshine when it's not too hot and read aloud or let them read "in the wild". Watch stuff grow.
Anyway, I started thinking about building a real garden, and then I had to give myself a slap and remember every time I tried to grow anything, I'd kill it. That is not to say I didn't like it, it was just not my thing. I've seen beautiful gardens in the States and in Europe, but never thought I could actually grow one. Once I started thinking about it, though, I couldn't stop. My vice-principal, a very wise woman, marched me into her office one day and said, very matter-of-fact, "I am putting together a grant for this outdoor garden/classroom idea you got. And you're writing it." Ok, long story short, we got the grant and got started.
My principal immediately began drawing up plans for landscaping and a pond. A small gazebo was ordered. The district promptly imposed restrictions, but we worked through them. People donated stuff, like plants and mulch. The three parent volunteers who showed up helped my husband and I build flowerbeds, bless their souls. My vice-principal (again, a very enterprising woman) and I planned to get compost for the plants. The only problem was, we needed a truck and a shovel. She promptly volunteer her truck and shovel, and I went home and fetched mine. It was an extremely hot and humid day. See, this is how you really know if you can trust your administrator. Nothing like knowing that a person who is capable of throwing shovefuls of dirt side by side with you, in the blistering heat and humidity is also capable of going to bat for you and run things at school at school with a firm hand. We shoveled compost by the truckload and it finally began to look like what it was meant to be--a wonderful place for kids to learn about nature in a real setting, to sit down and read in beautiful weather, to hang out and think deep thoughts. The kids were awesome too, planting and rearranging. Working side by side, I was immensely proud of them and their hard work. We had a dedication ceremony for our retiring principal, and released butterflies. It was one of the best moments of my life.
It was not easy--I've done everything from scooping out big globs of nasty green algae out of the pond to pulling weeds taller than me. There were ant bites all over my arms and hands (stupid forgot her bug repellent) I tried to ignore whatever lurked in the dark corners, thinking it is supposed to be an ecosystem and that includes snakes. I even walked in front of my entire faculty covered in dirt and sweat, after one of the weed-pulling sessions because I could only get out through the media center and they were having a meeting! I was so tired I didn't even think to care. It should have been one of the most embarrassing moments.
I've been gone from the garden for a year, and it has been going back to its untamed state. Plumbago is running wild, most of the mulch is missing, and my spring perennials have gone. I think the koi fish may be dead, or maybe playing dead. While I am waiting for final approval of my appointment as a fourth grade teacher, my principal has given me permission to go back and work in the garden, which no one seems to use as a classroom anymore. And writing this post reminded me of why it was so important to me. Maybe it is a metaphor, after all. So, as Rudyard Kipling (from the Jungle Book) said "Then seek your job with thankfulness and work 'till further orders, If it's only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders. And when your back starts aching and your hands begin to harden, You will find yourself a partner in the glory of the garden." I'll be picking up my gloves and shovel, because my Serenity Garden is calling me back.