Even More Compost!

I love compost. I believe recycling food scraps is one of the most worthwhile projects that schools can adopt outside of the classroom. I spent nearly a year in Montana fishing silverware out of garbage cans full of carrots, apples cores and lettuce, and have again found myself with the nicknames “Compost Lady” and “Dirt Lady” here in Powder.

Last week the 6^th grade students looked like they hardly shared my enthusiasm as I told them they were going to move the garden compost pile.

For the last several weeks we have been collecting fruit and vegetable scraps in the cafeteria as students learn the rules of composting and we see how much waste the school produces on a daily basis. New school lunch regulations require that students have at least one serving of fruit or vegetables on their tray. Although well-intentioned, even if a student tells me that it is going straight into the garbage, I am required to make sure it is on their tray. As a result, I collect about 60 pounds of compostable waste on a daily basis.

The school garden has long had a collection of dead plants, excess cabbages and rotting tomatoes we’ve called a compost pile. Slowly I am working to get it actively decomposing into fertilizer to enrich our massive school garden. One part of this plan is to replace this single pile with three composting “bays” which we will be able to rotate filling with scraps throughout the year.

The 6^th graders are here because I want the new bins to go exactly where the existing pile sits. They look at me dubiously as I distribute shovels, pitchforks and hoes. Several students hold their noses and stand back while others hesitantly pick up the stinking cabbages and carry them to the new pile.

Students with hoes start to hack the vegetables to pieces, and enthusiasm immediately grows. The boys with pitchforks dig into the pile to remove the top layer and expose the decomposition beneath. Because there are not enough tools for everyone, one of the girls climbs up in her muck boots and starts grabbing handfuls of compost with her bare hands and piling it on waiting shovels. Others soon join her.

Suddenly there is a shout. “It’s warm! It’s steaming!” The girl reaches down into the pile as others crowd around. They pull handfuls of grass clipping covered in white mold out of the pile. “Hey, this smells good!” I explain to them how heat is an important part of compost, and they excitedly dig deeper into the pile. Some comment on how it will be a great spot to hang out in during the winter.

We are all filthy, with decomposing organic matter coating arms and shoes, and I am sure we reek as well. Their teacher carries armfuls of cornstalks from one pile to another, grinning and only slightly cleaner than the rest of us.

We run out of time when we are only halfway done, and I have to pry students away from the compost to hose them off. They head back to their classroom as I put tools away before following them. It’s not hard to do, since there is a distinct trail of dirt leading from the garden to the school.