Finding Inspiration at Verde Valley School Farm

Standing at the gate to the one-acre farm of the Verde Valley School, we are welcomed by farmer Mike Spielman and some of his students. This afternoon they are harvesting tender young kale leaves for the evening’s dinner. The class is a full-semester commitment for those interested in pursuing in-depth farm work. The curriculum includes seed saving, heirloom varieties, cross breeding for adaptation and stabilizing them to flourish in the local environment. It is a process of experimentation and discovery that catches their interest.

But it also means getting their hands dirty and doing the heavy lifting to run the farm. They turn soil over, plant seeds, spread compost, tend a greenhouse, maintain vegetable plots and harvest fruits, vegetables and herbs. “I’m so tired of wheelbarrows!” Says Connor, the young man who hauled chips to refurbish all the pathways this spring (though I note he looks strong as a result).

“I really like all the hard work we put in, seeing how it develops, creating purpose, making it pretty,” says Maylie.

Entering through the “food forest,” we meander along a winding pathway under elderberry, apricot, peach and plum trees. These shade an undergrowth of herbs, wildflowers, berry bushes and a strawberry patch. Random silvery-green artichokes punctuate a spread of oregano dotted with borage plants. New Mexico primrose blooms amid thistles—or “prickly lettuce,” as Mike calls them. “An aspirin-like medicine can be made from the sap, so they do have a benefit,” he tells us. It is not a tidy, weed-free garden. Apart from the thistles, invasive cheatgrass has purchase on much of the ground. Rather than fight the weeds, Mike maintains this multitude of varied plants has benefits, such as attracting pollinators. 

“The definition of a weed is ‘a plant growing out of place,’” he says.

Continuing, he explains, this theory is centered in the thought that weeds present unwanted competition for the plants we most desire. But, as we are now coming to understand, monocultures invite pests and disease. “I think of it as an ecosystem, a diverse plant community with an agricultural component, where they flourish together in their environment. So many of these plants, no one would leave them here,” says Mike. We pass an unusual Hopi bush-style peach tree which is compact and low, an adaptation to the harsh desert conditions on the Hopi mesas. A gift to the garden from a Hopi elder whom Mike works with to test seeds for adaptation, it will likely produce fruit next season. Other gifted seeds from Hopi and Yavapai farmers include watermelon, assorted kinds of corn and squash. These gifts Mike respectfully accepts and mindfully stewards to propagate and preserve, not to sell.

 Looking around at the Himalayan poppies, edible lambs’ quarter and an herbaceous plantain, Mike says: “Every single plant in here is a volunteer. There is something beautiful about that to me.”

Reflecting this sentiment, Naomi shares her favorite lesson learned in the garden: “The interconnectedness of everything. We let plants do their own thing and they are compatible. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but we are learning how mutualistic things can be. It’s changed my perspective on life, including understanding people in their surroundings.”

Mike’s laissez-faire style just might be the secret to their abundant harvests. In 2021—a good year for fruit in the Verde Valley—they harvested about 750 pounds of peaches and 200 pounds of plums. With a recent donation of young trees, in a few years the orchard will have 100 or more productive fruit trees. While the school used to sell at the local farmers market, now it shares its produce with Manzanita Outreach, a major local food bank. It’s a partnership that fits the school’s philosophy of good citizenship and community engagement.

Further into the garden we come to raised beds planted with lettuces, kale, garlic and onions.  While the whole farm is heavily fenced, the raised beds ensure that rabbits and other critters don’t have access to these crops and other later-season vegetable plantings like tomatoes and peppers. “Everything gets sanctuary in here—except gophers. We have snakes and rabbits get in sometimes, but not deer, skunks or squirrels.” Mike reluctantly traps gophers. The school  used to have persimmon trees and they all died because of them.

The contrast of outdoor garden work with indoor classes on computer screens can be fulfilling. Vi expresses the positive experience she gained: “It gave me something to look forward to each week, a lot of purpose, something positive to work for. That was incredibly transformative.”

Outside the garden, Mike takes us into a small shed where a long wooden bench is covered with drying plants, flowers, glass bottles and jars. Drying herbs and flowers and learning about their healing properties is an auxiliary component of the farm class. The kids experiment with a variety of plants and roots they either cultivate or gather in the wild and use to make teas, tinctures and salves. They also press flowers to make pretty note cards. Mike points to a wall of small drawers with printed labels. “We have a 10-year-old living seed library. It’s living because we use the seeds harvested after each growing season, instead of holding them for a long period of time, like a seed bank. This allows us to select for adaptations for this space, so we get the best results in these growing conditions, with little water.  We select and save 30% of our seeds from each harvest and let the rest scatter.”

The volunteer plants that come up next season, as well as the selected seeds that produce fruit, are likely to express adaptations of value. One such successful example took a few years of experimentation; it is a huge cucumber—a cross between an Armenian and a lemon cucumber—that requires very little water. There is ample capacity for water harvesting here, Mike says. They could get 80,000 gallons from a single nearby roof, but it would cost 70 cents per gallon to put in the infrastructure. “Maybe we could get more production with more water, but we have very good production as it is.” For example, the summer harvest produces an abundance of beans, corn, tomatoes (many are heirlooms that Mike has collected and stewarded for years). He cans cases of quarts of tomato sauce, as well as salsas and relishes. 

In late summer he hosts farm-to-table community gatherings and makes pizzas in a large wood-fired oven using the sauce he makes and the basil, garlic, oregano, squash, peppers and onions from the farm. “This place, to me, represents freedom,” says Mike. “It is kind of ironic, really, because I haven’t left it for 10 years. When I step outside myself a bit—from my role here—and walk through, I am like a tourist in a wild and beautiful place. I am trying for that sense of freedom, and less towards thinking ‘Oh, I’ve got to pull this place together.’” Mike admits he could use some volunteers when the students are on vacation. “The model we are working on should be developed with more people involved, to engage with the community and other producers.” The vision is a work in progress, but Mike’s passion for the farm’s mission, the food, the experimentation and discovery, seems to have rubbed off on his students.

“I want them to fall in love—fall in love with being outside, getting their hands in the dirt and enjoying picking some fruit.”

Our visit revealed a world of possibility for both plants and people. I learned a garden can inspire, nourish and feed different people in different ways. Of the eight high school seniors on the current team, two are going on to pursue agriculture studies: Naomi is going to Hawaii to work as a farm apprentice. Quinn, after working at Page Springs Cellars, is heading to Oregon State University next fall to study agriculture. Maylie is going to culinary school in Ireland and she is very excited to have her garden experience to enhance her studies.

Congratulations and best wishes to these future farmers, chef and budding food experts! And thank you, Mike, for inspiring them.