This Summer & A New Vision for Community Gardening

2007 was a year for gardens. It was the first season since I was very young that I was actively involved in gardening. I did not start modestly. In the spring, I bought a variety pack of seeds from an heirloom seed company. It included dozens and dozens of different vegetables and varieties. I also ordered some tomato and pepper plants. Erin and I had literally hundreds of plants started in the spring, crammed into every available window space in her apartment. Much of it was experiment--we didn't know then that beans and watermelons don't transplant well when grown in pots, but we figured that out over time.

The garden at my parents was a phenomenon. My mom had commented on the high price of onions, so my dad was gearing up to plant some as well as tomatoes and such. He got ready for a modest garden. I told him I have a plethora of plants to put in as well as numerous seeds just ready for some soil and sun. He took the tractor around the garden again and expanded it. We got together and planted about 30 tomato plants, numerous peppers, green and purple bush beans, some pole beans, onions, sweet corn, 2 kinds of squash, carrots, beets, parsley, Brussels sprouts, watermelons, cucumbers, all sorts of hot and mild peppers and an assortment of marigolds, sunflowers and nasturtiums (flowers that are good for pest management).

Nearly everything grew profusely. Great garden location, great weather, and mostly heirloom plants. (Heirlooms are traditional varieties which have been passed down from generation to generation; they are free from artificial genetic tampering and tend to produce the tastiest garden veggies (as opposed to mass-produced tomatoes with thick skin that transport well but taste like shit). You can also get amazing varieties, such as yellow carrots, purple beans, cucumbers that look like lemons, and some of the wildest shapes and colors to some traditional vegetables.) We had a few mishaps. The cabbages just . . . exploded. Cucumbers were bitter and the Brussels sprouts didn't have enough time to mature. We also produced a couple of white watermelons. They had a plain taste, but my family wasn't interested.

I experienced some of my fondest memories with my family, this summer. I remember sitting around the kitchen table with my parents, sister and my uncle. We had just been in the garden picking yet another batch of beans. I cooked up some long green beans in olive oil and garlic and set a bowlful on the table. We picked out of it with our fingers and talked until the bowl was empty. My mom always had a batch of beets at the ready. My uncle brought a watermelon, and we talked and shared and relished in fresh vegetables together. It was fun while cooking to realize I needed another ingredient, so I hopped outside, put some sandals on, and came back with arm load of whatever it was. My family is not usually carrot-crazy, but the ones we grew were sweet and fresh--we'd cook them and eat them plain. My mom remarked that "this is the most beautiful parsley we've ever had!" (we love traditional parsley (not the curly kind), we throw the roots and the long stems into soup).

Andy stopped by once and left with bags of tomatoes. My uncle visited several times and took beans, beets and whatever else was ready. A friend-in-need took bags-ful on at least a few occasions. Produce also was shipped in large boxes to Columbus, where I shared with Scott, Erin and her kids, as well as myself.

New recipes were invented. The afrementioned green beans in oil and garlic have been a consistent hit. Erin was at first reserved about beets. However, she decided to mash them like she normally mashes potatoes and they were a screaming hit [you bake the beets for an hour, peel them; then mash them with a potato masher mixing in copious amounts of butter and sour cream until it turns into a creamy mixture. You can't reject beets until you've tried these!]

At any point this summer, you could open my parents' fridge and find about 3-4 varieties of green beans--bean casserole (what we call "bean salad"), stir fried, beans-in-sour-cream soup (showing our East European roots), and just some plain cooked beans just waiting to be thrown into something. We are just crazy over green beans.

There was also a significant gardening experience at Erin's and a few plants at my apartment. We planted zillions of tomatoes, lots of lettuce, carrots, many things that didn't grow so well. It was nevertheless also a successful endeavor, her kids happily picking tomatoes and baskets full of greens in time for dinner.

Through this experience, I have a new vision for community gardening. I do believe in community gardens in the inner cities and elsewhere. However, all too often I see a group of dedicated people--often outsiders from these neighborhoods--trying to drum up support, enthusiasm and ultimately community ownership of these gardens. The ones I have seen have not been robustly successful on these points (even though they have been very good gardens). Basically, the operate in a way similar to my family's garden: A group of people maintain the land and provide the primary resources for the garden. They get occasional help from neighbors and share the produce widely. Having some kind of goal for an empowered neighborhood that totally takes the bull by the horns and manages the garden in an egalitarian way is perhaps an unrealistic expectation.

I think its better to have a garden centered around the ownership and responsibility of a single family. At that point, you can distribute produce and get people to help, but there is no need to create a socialist system out of it. I think this is where community gardens get disappointed, when in reality they probably accomplish a lot as they are.