Through this project I dove into a topic I am passionate about, but with the nuanced and less-viewed lens of action at the urban grassroots. Through this perspective I was better able to understand the power of garden and food education as something a community can demand and command—even if they simply have a stretch of roadside (like Ron Finely).

But this drew me back to wonder why, if garden-based learning can be so vigorously initiated at the grassroots (see practitioner publicans for clear action plans), there is not an urban garden teeming with dynamic, learning students everywhere. Part of this was my misconception that there are not community gardens throughout urban areas. Grassroots organization DC Greens explains there are almost a hundred community gardens in DC. I have found more of the issue is sustainability—of effort, of funding. Garden-based learning is a highly resource intensive investment. From land, to teachers, to supplies, to maintenance, to infrastructure, to labor, a garden or food literacy program take a lot of coordination and many partnerships, and resources. For this reason, I learned that most organizations dealing with urban agricultural education have blossomed to grass-tops, as opposed to grassroots organizations, with donors high up in progressive education philanthropy.

Within organizations that are still grassroots, by exploring their journey and outcomes as an organization, I learned a lot about grassroots organizing as well as about garden-based learning and food literacy projects. First, organizations with specific geographical contexts and connections can best match the nuanced needs of the area. A garden is a space within a place, and learning takes students within a community—and if an organization cannot sink itself into those important factors, it will not take root in the community. A good example is DC Greens. They focus solely on DC so that they know every garden, every policy, every school and how it affects not only day to day operations, but day to day lives.

Geographical and community connection are also essential because garden and food education does not make the essential linkages to students’ academic life and general wellbeing without extensive coordination and partnerships. A garden cannot come alive with just a talk to a school board to demand resources and a space. The program must interface with teachers, curriculum designers, parent and student volunteers, donators, grounds and maintenance crews, and even local businesses. A garden is a living, breathing entity that can give a lot to students, but only if everyone in the community gives a lot back. It may just be an experiment in manual labor unless the garden program connects with that enthusiastic science teacher (for example) to connect the students’ time into an interdisciplinary setting.

The organizations profiled on this website have organic roots in their communities—mostly started with parent demand or by a dedicated teacher who wanted more for his/her students’ learning experiences. But while researching the urban garden movement, I noticed often with national organizations, or even grass-tops organizations, it is highly educated (mostly white) people implementing a program because of their sincere (and warranted) fear of the crumbling American industrial food and education systems. A lot of these people have done amazing things and proved outcomes with increased academic outcomes and developing community bonds, yet it does bring about the air of privilege that this issue raises. A lot of Americans can’t think of a garden because they are worried about first finding a grocery store in their neighborhood’s food desert. And though this is partially true, this was also slightly a misconception of mine. People like Ron Finely show that people of all races and socioeconomic statuses (as it should have been obvious) have agency, want to change, and have a good sense of what their community needs. Communities don’t need to be saved, they just need to be organized. This juxtaposition between communities taking charge and progressive America trying to take charge for communities is both paradoxically hopeful and concerning. It made me appreciate the grassroots nature of my profiled organizations even more, but it made me understand that some of these bigger, top-down organizations reach a lot of people.

Finally, in my exploration and research I felt like some voices were missing. I would have liked to hear from more diverse, and affected urban individuals and communities (rather than putting a ton of stock in Ron Finely). Often urban garden and food education organizations and information websites are written for the concerned outsider, with the occasional picture or video of the community groups—but not a true, honest conversation about how food, agriculture, green spaces, and all of the other motivations, benefits, and challenges of both industrial and progressive food and garden systems affects urban people of all social groups. I would have liked to see more conversation, more anecdotes, and fewer declarations. The data seems to back up the declarations, but most of the writers and commanders of the urban garden narrative are white, upper-middle class, and highly educated.