Community garden… COMMUNITY garden… community GARDEN…
In a wistful afternoon in April, I murmured these words with
myself as I approached the garden, each time with the stress on a different
word. I had been wondering for a while now who was this community? How do you
understand whether you are part of that community or not? How does the trust
system work? Is it an implied sense or a spatial factor?
And then I saw the fenced boundary of the site. It was very
different with what I imagined it to be. It was more of a suggestion than an
imposition. It was friendly and subtle, and at the same time indicated that
once you’re inside, you are part of something collaborative.
The spatial characteristics of the fence wasn’t working as a
guard but more as a definition or a hedge line. Its ends didn’t meet with
another fence and instead it was hanging out by itself. It acted as a metaphor
of hope. More like a gesture hoping for an expanded future.
Even the berms that surrounded the community garden were
simply informing you of an existence. The existence of a possibility that
something is happening on top of the berm behind these colorful benches.
The lock on the shed could easily be opened. It was merely a
way of keeping the doors closed and protecting the tools from being damaged and
the other stuff inside it from being deteriorated. The list of tasks was mostly
a collective effort to keep up with pace of the garden. Everything was shouting:
“you can be one of us”, even though no one was in the garden at that time.
Finally, my eyes
glanced over to the planting beds within the community garden. I saw small
supporting structures that were marking boundaries of plants to be grown out of
the soil soon. These fostered a protected platform for each plant to flourish.
Being delighted by this passive sense of inclusion, as I approached
the beddings it was very clear to me that there are again boundaries but it was
as though, one melted into the other and the soil, air and the rain drops that
were feeding these, were uniting them all in their one goal of growing food,
fun and friendship!
Hi Ati,
ReplyDeleteFirst off, this was a great read! I never thought of that perspective that perhaps this was a community that could have been closed off just to the Randolph community. You are very right that the fences seemed to close off intruders and that the boundaries were very clear. However, during my visit, I, too, was greeted with nothing but warmth. Mother Dawn welcomed me with open arms and did not even ask why I was volunteering or if I was with the Eng 498 class. To her, we are all equals looking to lend a helping hand in the community. I think the lock and fence are more of a subtle way of distinguishing the property from the school property as they have had their issues in the past. I mean, the painting on the shed screams "come join us" rather than pushing away visitors. Great analysis!
-Brandon Leung of Team County Market