Homegrown Goodnessby Sara Sybesma ’84 Tolsma
recipes
In an April 20 article in the New York Times Magazine called “Why Bother?” environmental journalist Michael Pollan (who wrote The Omnivore’s Dilemma, which I recently read and recommend) mentions several ways individuals can change how they live to combat global climate change. He argues for switching to fluorescent light bulbs, cutting back on eating meat (the production of which contributes to the emission of greenhouse gases), or observing a “consumer’s Sabbath” by going one day a week without driving, shopping or using electronics.
My family is trying to get on board with green living, especially after living in Germany for a year. Our German friends’ religious recycling and composting put us to shame. They were knowledgeable and intentional about using and not using fossil fuels. They valued natural, organic foods and were much more deliberate about eating seasonally and locally than Americans.
Now back in America’s heartland, my family is trying to walk more and drive less. We have increased our recycling and added our voices to those raising awareness for environmental issues.
My favorite part of Pollan’s essay, though, came toward the end when he urged, “[Grow] some—even just a little—of your own food.” Pollan argues that planting a garden is one of the most powerful things you can do. Not only does it reduce your carbon footprint, but it also reduces your sense of dependence (and helplessness in the face of a global problem) and increases your sense of community with your neighbors and the earth.
When I was growing up in Spirit Lake, Iowa, my parents had a huge garden, and my brother, sister and I had to work in it. It was hard, hot and itchy. I hated it. Indentured servitude was not my idea of summer fun.
Despite my protests, that place—the earth and the goodness that came from it—became part of who I am. Working close to the earth was elemental, healthy and life-giving. I sensed the rhythms of seasonality, and I grew up knowing that food doesn’t just come from the grocery store. I know what a vine-ripened tomato tastes like.
After college, I moved to Chicago and found I loved the Windy City’s fast-paced, energetic lifestyle. So I was surprised one spring when I began to feel the pull of the earth that shaped so much of my childhood. Our Palestinian neighbor urged my husband and me to join a neighborhood garden. Connecting with the earth and other gardeners in our diverse community taught me how people from different cultures use the soil to grow foods they love, and in so doing, preserve and share a taste of their culture with others. Composting, hoeing and weeding alongside my neighbors, I learned to grow new varieties of vegetables and fruits and learned about other people and places.
When we moved back to Iowa, we chose our house largely because we loved the huge backyard. Between preparations for my first year of college teaching, we started an ambitious vegetable garden and planted flowers that would attract birds and butterflies. It was hard, hot and itchy. I loved it. Recalling both the garden of my childhood and our urban neighborhood garden while I canned, jellied and froze produce from my overwhelming harvest, I thought about how intentionally cultivating relationships—not only with God’s creatures but also with creation—is redemptive and life-giving.
This summer I will get on my hands and knees in the dirt of my garden again. It has lain fallow during the two summers we lived in Germany. Soon, in addition to the birds and butterflies, there will be rows to hoe, weeds to pull and beans to pick (and pick and pick).
Because it is good for them, my three kids will have to work in our garden. It will be hard, hot and itchy. They will hate it. Indentured servitude is not their idea of summer fun. Despite their protests, they will know what a vine-ripened tomato tastes like. This place—the earth and its redeeming goodness—will hopefully become part of who they are.
Sara Tolsma has taught in Northwestern’s biology department since 1995. She has a Ph.D. in microbiology, immunology and virology from Northwestern University, Chicago.