A Surprise Lesson at the Orchard

Last spring I had asked one of my high school students about her summer job at an orchard. She invited me to stop by and see where she worked, which I had, but she wasn’t available at that time. She mentioned it again this fall and invited me to stop by again, so I did. It gave me a new appreciation for my students, nature, and orchards.

First of all, it was a busy morning as I had to open a new bank account for the school, run some errands, and meet a friend right after lunch. I figured that this probably wasn’t the best day to stop by the orchard, but I also reasoned that my students are more important than bank accounts and errands, so I decided to go anyway.

I made some homemade banana muffins for my son and I, answered a few emails, gathered the bank documents, and headed out the door with an extra two muffins, buttered and wrapped up for my student.

After arriving at the orchard and purchasing some apple cider and a few cucumbers, I inquired about her whereabouts. The owner’s wife soon appeared and escorted me out to the garden beside their house. There was my student, barefoot and muddy, faithfully doing something beyond my realm of knowledge with rows of celery. Her smile made the whole trip worth it at that point, but much more was coming.

I handed her the muffins and chatted with her and the owner’s wife a bit about celery, and she told me how wonderful a worker my student was. I assured her that she was a wonderful student as well. More smiles. Then my student asked me if I wanted to see some more of the orchard. Bank accounts, errands, and an afternoon meeting with a friend all went through my head, but again, I sensed that this was far more important, so I said, “Yes, I do.”

She led me along a rocky, muddy path behind the house, past the barn, and then down the hill past rows and rows and rows of trees. We went past a field of asparagus, another field where she had planted strawberries last spring, and then more rows of trees. We headed down one particular row, and as we approached, I slipped in the mud and fell down backwards. I quickly got up and, with a smile, made some comment about that not being very dignified. It certainly wasn’t. A few yards later we found her two brothers and the owner with boxes and ladders picking apples. More smiles. I think they were really glad to see me.

I talked with the owner a bit and asked about the orchard. What he told me honestly flabbergasted me. About eleven years ago he and his wife, newly married, had purchased twelve acres of meadow and woods. They had planted every single fruit tree on it, and in those eleven years it had grown into what it is today–a beautiful and amazing orchard.

Besides the fields of strawberries and asparagus, there were cantaloupes, a large greenhouse, and flowers. And of course, rows and rows of trees. Cherry trees, plum trees, pear trees, several kinds of apple trees– as far as I could see, rows and rows of trees. And to think that all of that was a bare meadow just eleven years ago. And to think that my students are a part of that—working hard at an amazing and successful orchard—was stunning. He also told me how much he appreciated my students and what hard workers they were, barefoot and muddy, picking apples. More smiles from the boys this time.

What amazed me is that they can also make A’s on history and math tests, diagram sentences like nobody’s business, calculate physical science equations, sing, play musical instruments, and are incredible artists. That’s a result of a combination of talent and hard work. I was, in a good way, very impressed with all of them.

Next, I got a tour of the processing room, complete with a homemade hydraulic cider press where they make the apple cider. My student had told me about this at school, but nothing compared to seeing it up close in real life. She also showed me the fruit washer and sorter, and while I was observing all this and asking more questions to both her and the owner’s wife who had rejoined us, the boys appeared again, backing up a tractor with a trailer full of apples on it. I can barely back up my car. More admiration.

I finally bid farewell, with a new appreciation for orchards, farmers, and my muddy, barefoot students. Their smiles, and hopefully their knowing that I sincerely care about them as people – not just as students – were invaluable. And I can almost guarantee they will try harder at school because of that. That’s not why I did it—but showing your students that you care about them does have a positive effect on your classroom culture and rapport with them.

I made it to the bank and ran my errands. I was late and missed the afternoon activity I had planned, but that’s okay. I had seen my students in a different environment, had had the opportunity to see them use several skills I hadn’t known they possessed, and gained a bit of knowledge about orchards. My morning had been more profitable than I had ever imagined.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash