Every year I start in my garden just a little bit later than the year before, not on purpose, but because May and June are so busy as a teacher. “Professional” gardeners on social media share helpful advice – from when to plant to when to close down the garden to what grows best in different light, soil, and other conditions. Sometimes I’m even able to follow these best practices!
But my favourite ‘professionals’ are the real people in my circle. My friends, with whom I swap stories when they come for a visit. My neighbours, when we theorize about why we have the same plant but mine grows a lot bigger and wider while hers is a more manageable size. These conversations, as “amateur” gardeners, are as much about sharing as they are about gardening. We try new strategies when we are rooting plants, move our leafy friends to different windows or places in the garden and chat about the differences we see in their growth and thriving. We’re trying new things, learning, sharing our results (for better or worse!) and thinking through challenges together. It’s like ongoing science experiments that we partake in and share the results of in a never ending science fair.
Our staff at school feels like the same kind of community. Colleagues come together in small but meaningful ways. Maybe it’s the conversation in the hallway, sharing strategies and resources that we felt worked well and ones where I need a little advice. It can be the scheduled prep time where we bring in student work and look at it together. Sometimes it’s sharing the frustration when things didn’t go as planned and brainstorming together for a solution or a little shift that might make the difference. Every story about someone else’s classroom becomes a little cutting I can root in my own teaching.
New ideas and resources take time to implement as we adjust, experiment, and observe together. I rarely teach a new lesson perfectly the first time. It can take awhile to work up to best practices, but it’s my colleagues that offer advice, and share their own stumbles that inspire me to keep trying. In teaching, as in gardening, there’s a joy in trying something new and seeing what happens. There’s comfort in knowing that I’m not on this learning journey alone. Just like gardening, teaching is ongoing, collaborative work where the results are never final, but always full of possibility.
Each spring, Annie starts her seeds indoors quite early and always saves some to share with us. Mal builds new structures and garden boxes and shows me her newest creations. Sandy always reminds me to just enjoy playing in the dirt and not to worry about perfection. I’m always late to the garden centres but it gives me the opportunity to get the best deals and share or swap what I find. My busiest time of year, as a teacher, falls during the optimum planting months, hence why I’m usually late to the party. Yet there’s no judgement from my little circle of gardeners, only support for my imperfect-but-always-trying practice. And through their encouragement, their joy, and their acceptance I’m reminded that growth always finds its way in community.
