If You Plant It, They Will Come

My first day of teaching at MHS was on January 10th, 2013. I was in room 502 in the annex, which has a wall of windows facing Rand Park. I took one look at the park from the classroom and thought, "Yes!" despite the park's obvious flaws. In 2013, Rand Park was often filled with garbage (it still is), Japanese knotweed took over the stream bank (it still does), there were very few native shrubs and perennials (that is changing) and there wasn't a single vegetable to be found (that has changed drastically).

But, despite all of these shortcomings, I felt like I had hit the biology teacher's jackpot.

The view of Rand Park from my window

A student can learn the biology curriculum from a book alone and do reasonably well with the assessments they are given. I envision this scenario: students flipping through old, tattered books scanning the text for "the answer" like they're looking for a word in a word search game. And then, with a sense of satisfaction, pressing their pencil down on the correct line on a worksheet to prove that they know "the answer." And most of the time, the answer is correct on the worksheet and on the test. A diligent student could ace every exam by approaching the class this way. But, I think it's fair to say that they may not have learned a lick of biology--I think of it as hollow learning. And that's where Rand Park comes in.

In grad school, we were asked to write a paper that explains our teaching philosophy. As I wrote that paper, I reflected on my own experiences as a biology student at Dickinson College. Of course I spent many hours reading the textbook (and it was time well-spent) but I don't recall any specific memories about poring over the details of some biochemical pathway. But I do recall the time my professor held his hand up to the moonlight during a marine study course in the Bahamas. He was marveling at the beauty of the human hand and the sequence of cellular events in an embryo that resulted in such an elegant structure. I also remember stomping through the woods in the late winter trying to identify trees by their bark alone, walking through a cemetery collecting data for a demography study, and visiting a brewery to learn how yeast make beer. I remember these things because they were real--I could see, smell, taste and feel this world. It was biology, of course, but I was experiencing it in my own space as I moved through the natural world, not the space of a book and a cubicle. And these experiences felt magical.

And now back to Rand Park and my dear students. My dream, my goal as I gazed at Rand Park that first year was to turn it into an outdoor classroom that will not replace the textbook; rather, Rand Park will complement the book and curriculum and bring to life many of the things that the students learn about. It's now 3.5 years later and my dream is slowly becoming a reality with lots of help (more about the help later). There are birds aplenty in Rand Park, which became abundantly clear to students as they watched a red-tailed hawk devouring a squirrel. And we have created a bird habitat including feeders and plants that attract birds. There are native and invasive species battling it out. There are leeches and water bears making their home in Toney's Brook. There are raised garden beds with peas and lettuces overflowing. There is a once-neglected bed along the atrium that come summer will be filled with fragrant basil, parsley, rosemary and cilantro. We planted cucumbers, watermelons, and morning glories. And like the post title says, if you plant it, they will come. The picture below is of a black swallowtail butterfly caterpillar (Papilio polyxenes)--the species uses parsley as a host plant. It has eaten much of the parsley but we don't mind. It's exactly what I was hoping for, actually.

A black swallowtail butterfly caterpillar munching on our parsley in front of the annex.

And so we are slowly building this outdoor classroom. The space is already certified as a wildlife habitat by the National Wildlife Federation. The animals have noticed. And so have the students...well, the ones that are looking. That's where the teachers come in. We can act as tour guides--point things out, give a little information, ask some probing questions and get out of the way.

And none of this would be possible without the help of many, many people. It has truly taken a village. I'd like to acknowledge and thank the following people and organizations: DIGS, Sabina Ernst for her plants and gardening know-how, Sarah Vogel for her landscape designer services, Robin Schlager, MFEE and Steve Wood for getting the bird habitat off of the ground and supporting the park, Deb DeSalvo for her bird expertise, Robert Haas and his carpentry students for building the post for the feeders and repairing the beds. Peter Giuffra for faithfully picking up the garbage and planting the begonias year after year, Kris Moser for loaning me the faucet key and always helping me out when he can, the ecology club for planting and the AP Bio students who plant and write and frolic and just fill my heart with joy. And oh, this little guy, who is my son and helps me pick up the garbage in Rand Park. He's pretty into it.

Dave Eckert, MHS class of 2024