Seeds of Change by Betsey Mead Wolf Ridge Naturalist Wolf Ridge Almanac Spring 2002

Standing in the lunch line last week, I overheard an interesting exchange between two kids.

“What class do you have after lunch?”

“Uh, I think it’s “Seeds Something.” My ears prick up; “Seeds of Change”— that’s my new class. I edge closer to hear more of the conversation.

“I had that yesterday,” confided the first student. “It’s cool; you get to eat.”

Smiling, I turn away, “Yeah,” I think. “You get to eat.”

I have always had a thing about food. When I was younger, it was mostly just the pleasure of eating. I still remember fondly the hamburger green bean hot dish mom made when dad was gone at a meeting. All day ski jaunts meant Swiss steak, hot and tender from the crock-pot. As I grew older, I became more interested in planning and creating meals and the sense of community I find when I sit around the table with friends and family. Spare time finds me mooning over cookbooks. However, food is no longer just a source of pleasure in my life; it’s also become a source of worry. In 1995, when my first child was born, I began looking at my food with a more critical eye. Should I wash apples and hope the pesticide residue would wash off? Could I afford to buy organic apples? Could I afford not to?

I’m willing to bet that a few of you are “foodies,” too. It could be that you, too, can no longer dive into meals without a niggling undercurrent of concern about what you are eating, where it came from and how it got to you.

Fortunately, I have been able to explore some of the answers to these questions thanks to Maggie Jones (past board member) of the Minnesota Corn Growers Association (MCGA). I first met Maggie Jones at a Wolf Ridge Family Vacation in the late 90’s. When Maggie suggested that Wolf Ridge and the MCGA collaborate to create a lesson and a display on agriculture, I was interested. Here was an opportunity to introduce children and adults to some of the big issues in the agriculture.

I began to pull together ideas that could be implemented into Wolf Ridge’s curriculum. But how does one begin to write a lesson plan? I’m a list maker. Why not begin the same way? I asked myself, “What are the issues I want our students to be aware of?” Pencil in hand, I divided my paper in half. On the left went the issues that keep me up at night: genetically-engineered plants, loss of the family farm, pesticide and herbicide use, loss of plant diversity, monocultures and a general lack of knowledge about where our food comes from. On the right went the good things: the availability of year-round fresh foods, diversity of fruit and vegetables, one out of four Minnesotans employed in the agricultural arena, new initiatives in fuel sources such as bio-diesel and ethanol, and an increased interest in sustainable farming. As I finished brainstorming my list, my head was spinning, my paper was full, and I had worked up an appetite. Next, I had to figure out how to translate these abstract ideas into classroom learning. What would appeal to our young students?

Food. That’s why I got into this in the first place. Luckily, our connection with the MCGA led me to the perfect class beginning. Popcorn! I figured the scintillating smell of popcorn wafting down the Science Center hallway would be enough to draw students into the classroom. We would pop seeds, grind seeds, bake seeds and of course, eat seeds. I realized that for students to understand the issues surrounding our current food sources, they would need to know the history behind seeds.

One of the first sights Columbus saw in the New World was the San Salvador Indians selling popcorn and wearing it as jewelry. Seeds have been an important part of the human story. Early people used seeds for money, jewelry, dyes, spices, ornaments, and as a means of barter—and, of course, for planting and eating. Today the role seeds and their resulting plant play is of dramatic importance. Corn itself provides us with adhesives, corrugated boxes, textiles, ethanol and numerous food products. Very simply, seeds have shaped and transformed our history and continue to chart the direction of our future.

As students hear about the seed history and follow the timeline painted on the classroom wall, they examine two large buckets of seeds. Reach inside one and you pull out wheat berries, the seed-bearing fruit of the wheat plant. Reach in the other bucket and pull out a whole kernel of corn. Later in class they will grind these into flour.

I hear a student yell, “Be careful, it’s gonna fall!” as she stands next to a stack of large preschool size blocks. Each block has a picture and history of an heirloom (antique) or hybrid fruit or vegetable. The students’ goal is to build a tower representing the relationship between heirloom and hybrid seeds. Heirloom seeds are the original seeds of long ago travelers, explorers and new settlers. These handed-down varieties were grown for over thousands of years by untold numbers of farmers. Seeds from plants showing the greatest degree of a desirable trait were saved year to year.

In 1909, Dr. George Shull discovered he could cross-pollinate two plants having different traits to produce seeds and subsequently create plants that were better than the sum total of the parents. These seeds called hybrids, revolutionized agriculture. Our hybrids combine the different traits each heirloom seed possessed. Every hybrid seed can trace its genetic traits back to its heirloom seed parent. Heirloom seeds are the building blocks for hybrid seeds. In 1970, many U.S. corn growers planted a type of hybrid corn, which unknown to them was susceptible to a strain of fungus that causes corn leaf blight. An epidemic developed and killed over half the crop in southern states. As a result, seed companies quickly introduced a hybrid from heirloom seeds containing resistant genes. What if the heirloom seed that provided resistance had disappeared? As this question is asked in the Wolf Ridge classroom, an heirloom seed is pulled from its place on the bottom layer of blocks that the kids have been stacking. Students slide out of the way as the tower comes down.

The story of seeds has a new chapter called genetic engineering. This new technology enables gene engineers to snip, insert, recombine, rearrange, edit and program genetic material. To illuminate this concept, we manipulate gene pieces on a felt board. Whereas hybridization transfers desirable, beneficial traits such as disease and drought resistance, it also transfers undesirable and unbeneficial traits. In contrast, genetic engineering transfers only desirable and beneficial traits. Currently, most genetically altered crops represent two themes: resistance to herbicides intended to control the growth of weeds and resistance to insect pests. The downfall of genetically engineered plants is that it is unclear what effects it has on the food web through its control of insect pests and weeds.

Conventional, integrated pest management, and organic farming methods are introduced in a lively and chaotic game. Colored poker chips represent different species of crop. Students acting as insect pests are released to eat crops, each gobbling as many chips (crops) as they can in 10 seconds. Multiple rounds are played introducing pesticides, pest resistant crops, pesticide resistant pests, beneficial bugs, monoculture plantings, etc. Tallies are kept on crop loss. When the game ends, laughing and breathless students begin to realize the intracacies of different farming methods.

To emphasize the process of getting food from seedlings to servings, students need to go beyond game playing. They need to work! One night, when my dinner plate included fresh bread made with flour my husband and kids had ground by hand, I realized I had found the perfect activity for the class. Two weeks later when five new hand grinders showed up on my desk I could hardly wait to get started. And that’s the way it is with most students that take the Seeds of Change class. After clear instructions on how to use the hand grinders (no “bone meal” is called for in the recipe,) students line up to try their hand at grinding whole-wheat flour and cornmeal.

Half an hour later, we carry our freshly ground flours to the Dining Hall. The students crack eggs, measure and mix up a batch of homemade cornbread muffins. As the muffins cook we head outside to discuss where our food is grown and how far it may travel from field to fork. I ask students, “Have you taken a good look at the food on your plate lately and wondered how far it traveled before you stuffed it into your mouth?” The statistics are startling. A typical piece of food travels 1,400 miles before it is eaten; 50 times farther than it did 20 years ago. Buying Minnesota grown food is one way to cut down the mileage. What are the benefits and costs associated with a global food economy? The benefits are obvious; fresh, cheap and exotic foods are available year round. On the flip side, the more global our agriculture becomes the more mechanized our farms become, resulting in poorer and poorer farms. We must also factor in the growing costs of transportation, fossil fuel depletion and increased CO2 emissions.

By the time I’m finished asking the students to consider the power they have as food consumers, the adult chaperones arrive carrying the warm, fresh and fragrant cornmeal muffins, made from scratch. We swarm the parents who laughingly hold the muffin tins above their heads, away from us. As the muffins are passed around and the kids bite into them, it is agreed that they are tasty. Mouths full of crumbs several kids beg for extras. I happily split the extra muffins up and hand them out, hoping they will remember the extra flavor their personal efforts have added to what they are eating.

As class wraps up, I take a moment to reflect. I’m thankful to the Minnesota Corn Growers and Maggie Jones for giving us the opportunity to introduce this timely and important issue. Even more, I’m glad to have the chance to bring one of my passions into the classroom. On personal and professional levels, we can’t afford to ignore this subject. Like all things, our food and purchasing choices have profound impacts and consequences on the health of our planet and of our children.

“I like this class,” one of the kids tells me as they head out the door. “You get to eat.” I smile and think to myself, “Hey, you not only get to eat, you get to eat well. Remember, there’s a difference!”

Betsey Mead is a naturalist at Wolf Ridge and coordinates family programs. She has a B.S. and teaching certificate in Elementary Education. Betsey is eagerly awaiting fresh greens from her garden.

Thanks to the Minnesota Corn Growers Association, who has sponsored a classroom in the Science Center!

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