A truly sustainable food system isn't just about agricultural practices — it's about people, knowledge, and community involvement.
Every week, students arrive at the farm. This school year, we've hosted thousands of pre-K, elementary, middle school, high school, and college students through field trips, farm camps, volunteer opportunities, internships, and work opportunities.
Some students are learning English alongside learning to transplant seedlings. Some third graders are helping us seed our regenerative pastures. Some are kindergarteners are harvesting food from the soil for the first time, encountering a radish still covered in dirt. Some are students who don't always find a place that fits them in traditional classroom settings — but find something different at the farm, in the fields, or holding a young chick. What they all share is this: they show up, they do real work, and both the students and the farm are better for it.
This is what sets our farm apart: students don't just observe from a distance — they work alongside us, hands in the same soil. As we often say, we're building grit in real time, helping students move from passive participants in the food system to active ones.
That last part matters. Our interns and farm classes aren't one-time field trips where the farm pauses for visitors. Jeff's students are woven into the actual rhythm of growing — returning week after week, hands in the same soil, watching what they planted become what they sell to gardeners at a plant sale. These same students harvest and deliver food they grew to a food pantry. That continuity builds something you can't manufacture: ownership and pride. The quiet confidence of someone who knows they contributed to something real. Everyone on our farm team notices these students — their growth, their effort, their heart — and we celebrate their contributions together. We know they'll do good for our world.
Food has an amazing way of connecting us instantly. Language barriers soften when we take students into a hoophouse to sample arugula — some love it, some are skeptical! — and we talk about how to say different crops in Spanish, English, Polish, and Russian. A child who struggles to sit still in a classroom will crouch next to the goats and sheep for ten minutes, completely absorbed. A student who rarely feels like an essential part of a group becomes exactly that when there are eggs to wash or bags of soil to move for customers. Food is, and has always been, a common language — and the farm is where that language gets spoken most naturally.
This is what workforce development looks like at its best: not just job skills, but people discovering that they belong in the work. That they are capable, and that their contribution matters. A food system built on that foundation — diverse, invested people who feel genuine ownership over how food is grown — is one built for all of us, no matter the season.
You're part of that, too. Every share you pick up is connected to these students and this work. We're all, in our own way, contributing to a strong food system.
