Tucked in to the corner of this downtown school campus, the garden at Gratts Learning Academy feels secluded and cozy. It’s at the base of a gentle slope, planted with native plants, and edged by a wide fence that allows a peek to those on the sidewalk above. Passerby often do just that, stopping to ask the name of a plant in the garden, or to comment on how much the space has improved.

One bystander remarked that he helped paint the stunning mural on one of the garden walls.

Another announced, with excitement and pride, that she helped build the garden in January. Her toddler enthusiastically pointed out nearby rose bushes.

Ultimately, it’s this relatively small thing — a glimpse of beauty that stops people in their tracks;  wonder at something new, something different, something changed, that is at the heart of EnrichLA.  It’s this seed, in the unassuming form of a school garden, that has the power to draw people in, transform strangers into neighbors and inspire something more in a community.  It’s beautiful beyond the physical evidence of plants growing in dirt.

This seed promises amazing transformation, but in return it requires cultivation and attention. Gardens can’t thrive alone.

A bumper crop of Bok Choy

While we do occasionally run into those who just don’t ‘get it’, or can’t see the tremendous potential of a garden in a school, EnrichLA has been greeted with enormous support and enthusiasm for these small and powerful tools of change. It seems as though Los Angeles — despite it’s city-wide fruit trees and year-round crops — is starved for these gardens!

And why?

Perhaps it’s as simple as this:

When a child understands the transformation from seed to flower to seed again, realizes the symbiotic nature of insects and plants, tastes the healthy and delicious fruits of  their own labor, they have the tools to be a productive, connected, conscious and conscientious members of the world.

Green Lacewing eggs, ready to hatch and munch on some aphid intruders!

A concept so simple/powerful, even strangers, peeking briefly through a fence around a small downtown school garden, can grasp it.