How can children produce food, learn science, and develop a sense of ecological responsibility all at once? The answer lies in a school or home garden—a place where observation becomes both a science lesson and a vital behavior, where cooperation grows alongside tomatoes, and where wonder is at the heart of every season. What might look like a humble patch of soil is actually a vibrant learning environment where children develop the skills and perspectives they’ll need to face the environmental and social challenges of our time.
Permaculture and science, while distinctly different disciplines, share foundational similarities: both require systems thinking, close observation, and a commitment to learning through experimentation and observation. When children enter the garden, they aren’t just digging in the dirt—they’re developing inquiry-based thinking, practicing ecological stewardship, and participating in seasonal cycles that teach them about life, growth, and change.
A garden becomes a living textbook when children are taught to observe and interact. They gather data, test hypotheses, explore relationships between organisms, and reflect on outcomes. These are science practices teachers are already meant to teach—but they’re also tools for developing empathy, resilience, and a deeper relationship to the land and the wider human community.
Put Children in Charge
One of the most powerful shifts I’ve seen happen in school garden education is when students are allowed to take ownership. Rather than assigning each grade a single garden bed, I encourage whole-school collaboration, where children return to the same garden spaces year after year. This repetition is not boring—it’s transformative. With every season, their skills deepen, their questions grow more complex, and their sense of place and a responsibility to the land grows strong roots.
Instead of planting garlic once and never returning to see it grow, children revisit familiar tasks with new eyes and greater understanding. They learn that “now is the time to save seeds” or “now is the time to prepare the soil for spring.” They feel the shift in seasons in their bodies, not just on their calendars. This builds more than gardening skills—it builds ecological intuition.
When children are truly in charge, they also experience the invaluable lessons that come with failure and experimentation. They observe how slugs affect lettuce, or why a plant wilted, and they brainstorm solutions rooted in ecosystem thinking. Mistakes become stepping stones in the learning process, and the garden becomes a safe place to grow—not just vegetables, but confidence and creativity.
A critical part of this culture is setting expectations rooted in the ethics of permaculture, which I prefer to simply call “Care for Self, Care for Others, and Care for the Land.”
These three principles are simple, memorable, and adaptable to children of all ages. They offer a behavior framework for how to move, speak, and interact in the garden, as well as model a value system that guides community-building, self-care, and environmental responsibility.
When we ask students what these values look like in action, we hear things like:
“Walking instead of running so we don’t scare the bees.”
“Helping a friend carry a heavy watering can.”
“Picking only what we need and sharing the harvest.”
These moments are the seeds of empathy, responsibility, and stewardship—and they flourish when tended to with care.
Reimagine What a Garden Should Be
Too often, adults approach gardens with rigid expectations: tidy rows, pest-free plants, and weedless walkways. But when we release control and invite children into the creative process, the garden becomes a place of genuine discovery. It may look a little wild—brimming with ladybugs, a few stray dandelions, and hand-built trellises—but it pulses with life, learning, and personal connection.
A true children’s garden is one where the process matters more than the product. It is a science lab, a storybook, a playground, and a sacred space all rolled into one. Here, students build structures, plant seeds, write observations, harvest food, and reflect on their place and role in the world. It’s where they learn that even the “problems”—like aphids or slugs—are part of a larger system worth understanding, not just eradicating.
Start Small, Dream Big
Every garden will look different, and that’s the beauty of it. The key is to start small, set collaborative goals, and dream big about what’s possible. Maybe it’s a few raised beds in the schoolyard or container gardens on a blacktop. Maybe it’s a small pot on a window sill.
No matter the form, a garden is an invitation: to explore, to engage, and to imagine new ways of living in harmony with the earth and one another. And when children grow up knowing how to grow food, care for non-humans, and work together, they don’t just grow gardens but they grow into changemakers.
Original content by Kaci Rae Christopher, author of “The School Garden Curriculum” for Natural Pod.
Thank you to New Society Publishers for this collaboration.
