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Elsewhere, the garden areas are divided by whimsical fences made of twisted twigs and handwritten signs stuck in the ground. There's a huge composting area, where students regularly tend and turn the compost. Across the field is a traditional horno, a domed adobe outdoor oven where students can bake bread. A big tool shed is clean as a whistle, holding racks of dozens of mud boots, gloves, and gardening tools. Made of redwood salvaged when a tree fell, the structure uses Japanese joinery and was built as a community effort. "A sort of urban barn raising," says Chapman. The incoming sixth-graders begin with a 10-week session in the garden. One part of the introduction is to keep a garden journal, sitting quietly in one place, observing and writing. From then on, classes spend 90 minutes a week in the garden or 90 minutes in the kitchen. The work, while often tied closely to their classroom studies, emphasizes experience – getting one's hands in the dirt – over any kind of book learning. The kids learn in a practical way, by planning their own projects. Along the way, of course, they learn math, science, horticulture, and poetry. The garden is in a constant state of evolution as students think up new ideas – from raising chickens to digging irrigation trenches. This year they'll start constructing a greenhouse to grow seedlings, which will then be passed along to other schools. "The garden teaches you to respect things, and it's a whole lot of fun," says one student. "We get to dig holes and get wet, and cook. We eat everything we grow, which is pretty awesome." |
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