Gardeners Wanted

For the past 14 years, Betty and I have performed an end-of-winter task that is equal parts sheer joy and pulling teeth: We’ve filled a community vegetable garden with gardeners. This year, we’re finding that job isn’t an easy one.

In an age of sticker shock in the vegetable aisle,
a garden ought to be a no-brainer

In an age of sticker shock in the vegetable aisles and an emphasis on eating wholesome foods, you would think that finding 75 gung-ho gardeners ought to be as easy as announcing the availability of plots and then jumping back to avoid being trampled… especially when 90% of your gardeners from last year tell you in November they’re ‘definitely coming back’.

The reality, for reasons I’ll attempt to explain, is quite different. Let’s start with the 90% ‘count-us-in-for-next-year’ rate. If that statistic held true, we would be looking for seven or eight new gardeners each year. Why did that handful of last year’s gardeners drop out? Mostly, they tried the garden for a season and discovered it was harder than they thought, or not as much fun. That is to be expected. In addition, at least one or two gardeners ‘age out’ each year because of their own decreased mobility. There’s also another kind of ‘aging out’ in which six-year-olds who once thrilled at the idea of going to play in the dirt with Mommy were now tweens who would rather lose their screen privileges for a week than be seen in a vegetable garden – and Mommy’s biggest reason for having the garden was to educate her children. That scenario plays out several times a year.

The other problem is that people’s lives get in the way. Over the winter, three full-plot holders – all excellent gardeners – moved out of town and so are no longer eligible for a space. Two other long-timers are having Big Events this summer and need to take the year off. A mother and daughter who had separate plots decided to share one. Add to all those stories the three abandoned plots that became food pantry gardens last year and we found ourselves with twenty vacant spaces for the 2023 season.

Fortunately, three long-time gardeners who until this year had made do with half-plots (300 square feet) asked to upgrade to full ones. I quickly emailed them and granted their wish. In theory, all I was doing was swapping one vacancy for another; I still need to find a new gardener for their old plot. Well, yes, but I’ve filled a vacant full plot that might otherwise be carved into two smaller ones (as a policy, we ask first-year gardeners to begin with a half-plot).

To fill these twenty spaces, we started a media blitz. Medfield has a weekly ‘shopper’-style newspaper delivered to every home. I wrote an article and submitted some great photos. We made the front page! There is an online news outlet called Patch dedicated to all things Medfield which published a second article. There are also two or three Facebook groups dedicated to things going on in Medfield. Those sites are being peppered with photos of happy gardeners, lush gardens, and cornucopia of perfect vegetables.

The result of that publicity barrage, as of this morning, is eight gardeners who have sent checks and a few more who promise to do so. Which leaves nine gardens still to fill.

'Weeding' went to the top of the
'Gardening Guidelines'

There have been other queries. Everyone who calls or emails is sent a peppy, encouraging response that encourages would-be gardener to take the next step. But my response also includes an attachment – the Garden Guidelines.

We don’t have ‘rules’. ‘Rules’ smack of dictatorships. ‘Rules’ are totalitarian. ‘Guidelines’ are things everyone can agree to do, especially when they fit on one page. Each year Betty and I review and re-write the Guidelines with a view to addressing things that caused problems the previous season.  For example, a woodchuck wrought destruction in one garden, so burying fences six inches was elevated from a ‘nice thing to do’ to something expected of every plot holder.  Weeding aisles was also a problem last year. The gardener’s obligation to keep aisles weeded went from the middle of the page to the top.

We make certain everyone
knows the gardens do
require work.

Do the Guidelines scare off would-be gardeners? I think a more accurate description is that they are a reality check. A few years ago – and I promise I am not making this up – a husband and wife seeking a plot for the first time informed me they intended to plant their garden in mid-May but were thereafter going to their vacation home in Maine for six weeks with no plans to return to Medfield until late June at the earliest. Betty (who is the family diplomat) gently told them their expectation they would return to a weed-free garden lush with ready-to-pick vegetables was probably unrealistic. The couple passed on the garden.

In an average year, though, all the plots are filled by the second week in March and we have started a wait list for the inevitable handful of people who change their minds about gardening after the season begins.

The world has re-opened

This year, I have a queasy feeling those last plots are going to hard sells. During the pandemic, we had a virtual monopoly on ‘acceptable’ outdoor mask-free activities. Even if you were tepid about the idea of vegetable gardening, the idea of getting out of your house and into the sunshine three or four days a week for a few hours was irresistible.  Three years later, the world has re-opened and Spain or Yellowstone National Park or New Zealand beckon. Being tied to a garden is an obligation fewer people are willing to undertake.

We will make it work. As noted above, last year’s abandoned plots became gardens dedicated to growing produce for food pantries. That turned out well because of the dedication of half a dozen participants with hearts of gold. Let’s see how this year unfolds.