A Jubilee of Ideas, Connections, Harvests (including IdeaMensch and the African Children's Choir)

It is suddenly Blackberries.  Well, no, I shouldn't say that.  I saw it coming--the flowers, the fruit.  But every year when the deep purple appears, it somehow surprises me. They are hidden under leaves and thorns, and getting to them requires some work (and usually pain).

This week, as the school year was ending here in metro-Atlanta, I cleaned out closets and drawers and the garage, even finally letting go of my push reel mower (which is part of the most documented lawn story in the United States).  Feliciomo recycled it for scrap metal.  The clutter is gone now, and I have room again.  Literally.  Figuratively.  And I realized that, like the blackberries, great opportunities await us if we make the room for them, and notice them when they appear, and endure the pain it sometimes takes to embrace them.

I used to think it was all about the food.  I still have that voice inside me that says, "Two pounds per square foot times five dollars per pound . . ." and yes, this is a useful and satisfying voice.  But it's not the whole truth, is it?

It's not about the food (although I am totally loving the potatoes and onions).  It's about an energy that creates an ecosystem, in our gardens, in our hearts, and, inevitably, in our world.  It's about connecting what's good and connecting with others.  It's about ideas that grow into action. 

Two new people entered my life this week: Susie Newday and Mario Schulzke.  Susie is a Jewish mother of five in Israel who works as an ER oncology nurse and who somehow got wind of a site a 20-something German man in L.A. created named IdeaMensch.  Susie sent Mario so many ideas day after day after day that they now work together, half a world and half a lifetime away (you can read the cute story about their relationship on Mario's blog here).  

The email I received from Susie this week was, like the blackberries, a surprise, but shouldn't have been, I guess, as I have been growing as well.  She and Mario wanted to feature me on the site, and the questions they asked me were so soul-searching, that, frankly, I feel almost like the garage--cleaned out. I'm also particularly honored to have had the chance to share with the world some of my heroes, and to share space online with others bringing their ideas to life. I am part of their ecosystem now, and they are a part of mine.  Here is the interview.  Thank you, Mario and Susie, for all that you do and all that you are.

And somehow, as I think of Susie in Israel and Mario in L.A., and Betty in Cameroon now (although her latest posts are from Nepal), I wonder if, perhaps, we, you and I and all of us, are truly the people for whom we've been waiting.  You and I and all of us, from across generations, across continents.  We are the ecosystem we have been trying to create. 

My friend Erin Levin (pictured) quit her job at Better World Books a week or so ago, and is currently fulfilling her dream to film a documentary about the African Children's Choir.  The African Children's Choir is a group started years ago because of the idea of one man who heard one child sing, that if a choir of the world's most vulnerable children traveled the world and raised their voices in beautiful song, they would raise awareness and show that despite the desolate circumstances they come from, they have beauty, dignity, hope and unlimited potential. The following just-released music video, in honor of the Queen of England's Diamond Jubilee, features the African Children's Choir, and clearly demonstrates our human connection.  I showed this video to my daughters last night, and a new level of understanding of what we're all doing, separately, together, stirred inside of me.

A jubilee = a season or an occasion of joyful celebration.  

Blackberries.  Summer.  Simple joys.  A community of people who bring ideas to life.  Voices singing out, being heard.  A world connected.  

Yes, a jubilee indeed.

A Jubilee of Ideas, Connections, Harvests (including IdeaMensch and the African Children's Choir)

"But Neither Are You Free to Abandon It"

So the kids aren't coming anymore to the back field urban farm row, as far I can tell (field day, finals, end of school), so I went out there and pretty much just finished things up.  Spread the hay.  Removed the broken rain barrel. Added little signs and darkened the ones already there.  Repurposed that huge bamboo teepee.  Brought the bird bath from the fall class.  Painted a bigger sign identifying the space now as Public Produce, inviting anyone who wants to to get involved.

And then I remembered the week before, when I saw three fire trucks full of firefighters (from the firehouse walking distance away) show up at the community garden.  A couple of days later, I read an article about how the firefighters are now gardening at the greenhouse, which is another part of the community garden, just up the road in the same park.  

And then, for some odd reason, I had a flashback to yoga class, back when I used to go to the nearby community center, back when my friend was dying (six years ago this week, and yes, the hydrangeas are blooming again), back when "downward dog" was the only way I could keep looking forward.

So, anyway, at yoga class, there were these windows that looked out onto a lobby, and there were banners hanging, one of which was clearly visible to me.  It said this: 

"You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it."

When I asked permission from my city to grow out there in the back field, I said it was a semester-only pilot project with the kids, that there would be easy-to-maintain crops out there for over the summer, and that at the end of the summer growing season I would either toss cover crop seeds or let the space return to nature, unless the community garden or some other group wanted to take it over and get new permission from the city to do so.

The school has expressed no interest in getting more involved (although the coach of the health class that participated is clearly passionate about starting a school garden at the school).  The community garden has its hands full (click here to help it win an orchard, or click here to vote for the community garden near you) and hasn't mentioned taking over any school outreach efforts.  I was ready to just finish things up over the summer and walk away (although a mint-growing student or non-profit-involved micro-enterprise idea I have involving an artisan ice cream company keeps nagging at me . . .  I'm not done with that idea yet, but it most likely won't happen in the back field).   

But then that darn line from yoga class kept reverberating in my head.   

What if I could find another steward? I asked myself.  What if I could pass this on to trusted hands?  What if this could be the beginning of something, rather than the ending?

So, after first offering the suggestion to the community garden (although the back field is not technically a part of that), I went to the firehouse yesterday.  I met the two captains, one of whom is retiring in a week or so and will have more time on his hands (and who told me while smiling that he used to garden with his grandmother).  He came out to the back field and my friend Bob and I showed him around.  I told him how beautiful it is out there when the sun rises, how peaceful and free and wide-open it is.  How much food could be grown, just on the little space already under cultivation (the kids had computed that they were cultivating 553 square feet--the two long rows, plus a big circle--which has the potential to produce 1,106 pounds of food per year, for a food value of $5,530).  How much good could be done.  I invited his participation over the summer, and that of others at the firehouse (who have already expressed interest in growing healthy food and reducing stress through gardening).  I suggested that they talk with the city if they are interested in taking over the space after that (if they want to grow more than what they are growing at the greenhouse) as they would need the city's permission.

(Here's my little video from yesterday about how that space went from Locked Gate to Open Arms.)

And now, of course, we wait and see what grows.

And I get ready to move on.

Have you involved your local firefighters in your city's food growing efforts?  You may be surprised at their level of interest.  Why not stop by today and get into a conversation about it?

"But Neither Are You Free to Abandon It"