I'm a city kid. I grew up in a series of apartments and aside from the occasional doomed houseplant I never really got the chance to grow anything.
That all changed when some friends and I moved into a new place that had a few hundred square feet of actual dirt in the back. With a little effort, I figured, we could get in on this urban agriculture trend and grow some organic produce.
There's no shortage of advice to be found on the Internet and in the library. But whenever you're learning a new skill, it's a long way from reading to doing. Thumbing through a piano textbook is one thing, sitting down and playing is another. Our first season was the horticultural equivalent of labouriously pounding through a halting version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
We didn't use our space efficiently, at least half the seeds never germinated at all, and some steadfastly refused to grow more than a few inches. But we did pull lots of zucchinis out of our yard, some lettuce, arugula and a few others morsels of produce. When we proudly showed off our efforts to people who knew something about gardening, the conversations were sprinkled with sentences like:
"Yeah, that won't grow in this climate."
"This is the wrong type of soil for that."
"You should have done that about six months ago."
It was humbling to realize how amateurish our efforts had been. This year, the roommates and I resolved, it was going to be different.
Through a circuitous combination of grapevine and Facebook, we got invited to a "Gardeners' Meet-up," a chance to get together, buy seeds at wholesale rates and swap some greenthumbing tips.
It was helpful, but what struck me as I sipped tea in that East Vancouver living room was the variety of people who showed up and the variety of reasons they had to play in the dirt.
There were a couple of biology majors, people who understood soil chemistry, and confidently used words like "permaculture."
There was a contingent of what I might call militant gardeners. For these 20-somethings, every tomato plucked from the backyard is a blow struck against big agro-business. They delight in growing food in tiny plots of land wrested away from the city or a suspicious landlord. There was a slightly apocalyptic tone to some of their conversations about food security and "getting ready" for the day our global food network breaks down.
In a similar vein, there was another man doing his best to smash Big Pharma by giving away seeds for various medicinal plants, most of which I'd never heard of.
There were a few older people there who didn't see gardening as a political activity so much as a rewarding hobby. But what they lacked in militancy they made up for with decades of experience. They smiled politely through some of the more passionate discussions before making it quietly obvious they were far and away the most competent gardeners there.
Then there was me, with a big patch of dirt and an embarrassing lack of both skill and militancy. For all their varied backgrounds and goals, the assembled growers were forgiving of my incompetence and graciously provided me with some basic rookie tips.
"Just grow stuff you like to eat," one of the veterans told me. Good advice.
While I don't think we gave Monsanto much to worry about that night, we did emerge with some new seeds, some new tips, and more importantly, some new friends. In my view, that's almost the best part of this resurgence of gardening - bringing diverse groups of people together.
Fingers crossed, we just might get some produce as well.
