My time volunteering at Farmamerica

Two weeks ago, I wrote an article about how Farmamerica is looking for volunteers to fill various roles during the facility’s round of fall school field trips. I had the chance to speak with volunteers Ron Wood and Rita and Jerry Janish about the sense of personal fulfillment it brings them to help in various ways for various events.

 

Their enthusiasm and goodwill inspired me.

 

I added my name to the roster of volunteers for the field trips and signed up to be on site on Tuesday and Thursday, Sept. 30 and Oct. 1.

 

Everything was as rewarding and fulfilling as my interviewees had claimed, although my role differed from the ones they like to fill.

 

As a person with experience as a teacher, it was suggested I could be a “tour guide” at one of the interpretive sites. You are likely aware there are a blacksmith shop, a country school, a country church, a 1930s dairy farm, a feed mill, and an 1880s pioneer homestead. Groups of students cycled through those locations and the interpretive center to learn about the various aspects of farming and agriculture in southern Minnesota across time.

 

I was placed at the 1880s site. I was provided with a useful overview of the location and important information about the five structures located there. I was given a schedule regarding when groups would arrive and when they should depart. About 25 students and accompanying chaperones arrived at a time; I had 30 minutes with each set.  I would be giving my tour five times across the four hours between 9:30 a.m. and 1:30 p.m.

 

By the end of the day on Tuesday, I was grateful it had been good weather, but wished it had been about 20 degrees cooler.

 

Among the five groups were students ranging from third-graders to middle-schoolers. And I must admit by the fourth and fifth times, I kept asking myself inside my head “Did I already say that to this group?”

 

Now, I want to make it perfectly clear, the experiences and challenges faced by those settlers who came to Minnesota for “cheap” or even “free” land were fascinating. If the tour participants had been adults, I believe I could have kept them enthralled with the information regarding how a pioneer family would arrive, settle in to survive the winter, and then gradually acquire more weather-resistant and more comfortable housing as their own efforts allowed them to establish their farm and their lifestyle. 

 

I believe we would have had fascinating discussions based on history from within each of our families and even based on some of our experiences.

 

I like to think all the children who took part in the tours I presented took home a few interesting facts or observations about that time in history.

 

As for me, I learned an important lesson very quickly. Careful what questions you ask groups of young children–you can never be quite certain how on-task the answer might be.

After I asked one group what they thought it would be like to spend a winter based out of a small “dugout” living space carved into a hill, I was informed “They sure had a lot of frogs.” A part of the group had distracted themselves with some young grass frogs that happened to be nearby. Asking what type of meat might have been smoked in the smokehouse, I received the suggestion it might be the pioneers’ horses.

 

When we took a look at a hand-operated scythe, a student asked whether pioneers used it for killing deer. I kept myself from saying, “only if they could catch it.”

 

When I told students pioneers sometimes used the sod roof of one type of structure both as a garden and as a place to keep their chickens, I was asked more than once “what if the chickens fell off?”

 

The younger children provided all sorts of entertainment, the trouble was, I didn’t dare laugh. Young egos can be rather fragile. There were a few times when I wished I had phrased myself a little differently, but once said, the words couldn’t be taken back. Not that anyone broke into tears or anything, only that I wished I had been more diplomatic. It was probably clear to all the adults in the groups that, yes I had been a teacher, but not a teacher of elementary students.

 

I comfort myself with the belief I provided much more benefit than harm. I know I had fun, I know I learned a few things, and I know I plan to volunteer again.