Beth Chatto Symposium 2024
Value of Gardeners panel talk - a debrief
As many of us may have seen, the Beth Chatto Symposium took place in Colchester a couple of weeks ago (28th-31st August) and one of the eagerly anticipated talks of the event was on the ‘Value of Gardeners’, convened by gardeners Benny Hawksbee and John Little. Joining them on the panel were Alex Antonio, Stephanie Li and Aimee Spanswick.
For those of us who were not able to attend, and even for those who could, it might be useful to have an insight into how it went. A debrief of sorts. I’m sure many gardeners/horticulturists/horticulturalists are invested and interested in this particular conversation and it’s one that will continue to run as long as skilled gardeners continue to be undervalued and invisibilised in our society and even within our industry.
Three accounts by gardeners are offered here with their personal take and thoughts following the event including Stephanie Li, who was on the panel, and Alice Minney and Charlotte Clark who were in attendance in the audience.
The Value of Gardeners
Stephanie Li gardens at RBG Kew, where she trained for three years as a botanical horticulturist. Learning from plants inspires her to share stories about connection and belonging. She enjoys helping people notice the unnoticeable in nature, and exploring the intersection of ecology, culture and spirituality. Steph is a team member of the London Gardens Network and Roots of Belonging. @stephanie.tree
Meet any professional gardener and they will tell you “gardening” isn’t a big enough word to encompass everything the job entails. The symposium highlighted this with great effect. 21 talks across 2 days by 24 speakers whose knowledge spans soil science, geology, mycology, community, art, media, literature, design, botany, ecology and so much more. So how do you determine the value of a gardener? Is it based on a set of skills, knowledge and experience maintaining a green space? The qualifications they hold? Who is responsible for determining their value? Or does it depend on how much we value green space? When I was invited to be a part of a panel talk organised by Benny Hawksbee and John Little on this subject, we knew there would never be enough time to answer all these questions. Instead, our hope was to spark an inspiring conversation with the audience that might begin sowing the seeds of change.
I want to briefly mention why this subject matters to me. I came into gardening seeking repair and connection: a desire to learn how to repair the damage we’re doing to the planet, and connect to myself and the outdoors after being in the city rat-race. It’s a common reason why people turn to gardening and one I wish everybody could discover. But I am keenly aware this is made possible because of three things: financial support from my partner, a green space to learn, and a cultivated sense of awe made possible by the generous sharing of knowledge by passionate gardeners. Like the triangle diagram that shows fire cannot exist without one of the three elements of oxygen, heat and fuel, gardening professionally cannot exist without financial security, access to nature, and education.
Even with privilege, the reality of low wages and physical burnout can quickly overshadow the initial idealism for many people entering the profession. I have listened to many gardeners question their own sustainability, which made me wonder: “how can we expect people to care about horticulture if we can’t care for horticulturists?” At RBG Kew, a collective student body voice spearheaded by student representatives, including myself, posed this question to the directors and HR staff. And so began an 18 month long discussion that has resulted in an increase in student pay.
The panel subject felt like a timely invite as it became clear the conversation about the sustainability of horticultural careers goes beyond any single institution’s walls. Monty Don’s slay of the “horticulturalist” title probably helped too, but then what is the value of a professional gardener in an industry where we encourage everybody to join in? To get the discussion started, each panel speaker reached out to their followers on Instagram and asked for opinions on the value of gardeners. We received 55 comments from gardeners and designers that were shared in our presentation. It was clear that gardeners across all areas of the horticulture industry feel undervalued and this problem wasn’t a new one.
We had planned for 20 minutes to talk about our own experiences and 20 minutes to share the platform with the audience on their thoughts. John even bought a bicycle bugle horn to deter rants. But even with all these intentions and tools for time management, the subject was of course too big to contain in a short panel talk. In the 10 minutes we had left for the audience discussion, Arit Anderson asked how we feel about creating differential value from the everyday person who tends to their garden as a hobby? Alice Minney raised the issue around gardens choosing to use volunteers instead of paying for gardeners. Someone recommended writing to MPs to express our views to the government. John Little emphasised the current system of contracts being paid for designing green spaces without a long-term maintenance plan can be changed. It is our responsibility to challenge the system and realise people don’t just want a flower bed outside their doors, but a gardener to maintain it too. And the final comment was made by a garden designer with 20 years experience who challenged her peers to take accountability by calling for gardeners to be written into contracts and for maintenance to be built into future designs.
On reflection, it would’ve been quite a moment to end on if it wasn’t for the 3 minute unscheduled video presented by Giacomo Guzzon, which we had to silently sit through on stage. The video showcased 3 years worth of documenting gardens designed for climate resilience. Photography of exquisitely designed gardens transitioned from aerial shots to sunset pans, accompanied by rousing epic ‘overcoming-all-odds’ music. Impressive as these images were, I sat there with only one thought - all of these gardens could not exist without the gardener and where are they in the photos? This unexpected moment, ironically, summed up the problem. There are parts of our industry that do not see and acknowledge what’s beneath the surface of our green spaces. If they did, they would see the value of gardeners. They would see people as part of nature.
I’d like to offer you a quote that we had hoped to end the talk with, from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, that was forwarded to us from Michael McCoy in Australia after seeing our Instagram call-out:
Faramir: “...You are a new people and a new world to me.
Are all your kin of like sort?
Your land must be a realm of peace and content,
and there must gardeners be held in high honour.”
“Not all is well there,” said Frodo,
“but certainly gardeners are honoured”
When the panel met one evening, we discussed whether this would be a good quote to leave the audience with. Aimee vehemently agreed. “In the hobbit world they live for each other,“ Aimee said. “Gardeners are valued and cherished in their society as they are the ones who grow food, medicine, fibres and dye. In our society now we rely on gardeners/farmers to grow mono cash crops in segregation from communities. We are so disconnected from our food and fibres that gardeners are seen to be hobbyists rather than serious stewards of the land. In late stage capitalism gardeners haven't been valued because the commodities are no longer valued, they are seen as a given. In the hobbit world there is no capitalism.”
So where do we go from here? The point is there is no one answer. There are, I believe, lots of possible answers. It’s our job to keep the conversation moving forward, building a collective voice, questioning the system, questioning ourselves and our colleagues, including the people who aren’t in the conversation, and making change where we can in our little corners of this world.
Alice Minney is a gardener, designer and artist in London. Her creative practice looks at how plants can bring connection to ourselves, each other and non-humans. As well as highlighting the importance of gardeners and gardening in society. Working with her clients she is exploring slow garden design, collaborating with clients to build a garden over many seasons. @aliceeelizabeth
Benny, John, Aimee, Steph, and Alex are sitting on the stage. Behind them is a collage of photographs of gardeners. There have been a few times we have seen pictures of gardeners and their work being highlighted in presentations, and every time it feels radically new to recognise the people with their hands in the soil.
Each panellist talks about how they came to horticulture and what life within it looks like for them. For the freelance gardener, like myself, it is a multitude of job descriptions: designing, planting, sourcing, assisting six days a week, sometimes with little consistency of income or activity. Earlier in the symposium, Rebecca McMackin talked about how gardeners describe their work. ‘Maintenance’ is insufficient and ‘managing’ does not fit the bill either. What they always came back to was the word care. Gardeners care for the garden; they care for the landscape. This strikes something powerful in me, my eyes are flooded with tears of relief at this recognition of the work that we do.
Stephanie expands on this point, “Start caring about people who care… We need to pay more. I have heard from so many people who are looking to come into Horticulture, and they look at salaries and they think, ‘I can’t afford to live like that.’ So pay people what they deserve to be paid to live.”
The panel opens up for questions and the Beth Chatto garden team are ready with microphones as hands fly up. I have been saddened in the last couple of days that despite the luminosity of their green uniform, the garden team have somewhat disappeared from any discussion or acknowledgement. Whenever I’ve seen their green tops zooming around I’ve wanted to hear their perspectives. When I first came to Beth Chatto’s to intern, I was captivated by the garden and the plants, but I kept coming back because of the team, their enormous amount of knowledge, and their incredible generosity.
The first audience question addresses the fact that we have quite a unique industry where anyone can “have a go.” Steph responds that there has to be a level of respect for people who know their stuff, have dedicated their life to it, do all the extra work that we do, and care. The question has touched on a pertinent topic for me. The issue of differentiation when anyone can be a gardener is a challenging one and the two obvious answers of qualifications and years of experience don’t necessarily stack up. Qualifications are, for the most part, not financially accessible and resulting salaries do not reflect the time and money spent on them. With experience, the challenge is that it isn’t always aligned with knowledge. Someone who has been a casual gardener for twenty years might be less knowledgeable and skilful than someone who has devoted their life to it for ten.
I put my hand up. I make a point that has been playing on my mind: gardening is valuable when accessible to all but there is a problem of using volunteers as free labour. The practice of planning spaces according to what can be done for free by volunteers to avoid paying a gardener is unsustainable.
Pay comes up consistently in sharp accents throughout the panel. For those of us in the industry, either in employment or freelance, we know the reality of living on a gardener’s salary. Fair pay is a broad term and is easy to talk about, but it is not enough until actual numbers are brought into the conversation.
Hands go up rapidly after every question. The panel is before lunch and I anticipate a little running over due to the enthusiastic response of the audience asking questions. But as a mic is put into the next person’s hand, the panel is suddenly brought to an end by the event organisers. Someone is invited onto stage and a film is introduced. It feels abrupt. What follows is a slideshow of photographs of spectacular gardens from all around the world, vast, beautiful and lavish. But with no people. Dozens of photographs of landscapes and gardens, empty. All must have workforces of highly skilled professionals, we have heard some talk that same day, but they have been brushed out of existence. The stark shift is jarring, and my heart sinks. What promised to be a beautiful and diverse conversation has turned from an energising spark into the fizzing out of a single firework.
As the presentation finishes, there is a slight confused clap from the audience before everyone is up and moving. I head straight to the stage to see how the panellists are after the talk. Gardeners have filled the space. I talk to two of them about the role of volunteers and how valuable they are. We discuss the nuance of these conversations, the binary of good and bad, and how there is so much more that gardeners want to say and have heard. I had assumed everyone would have gone to lunch, but as I looked around, the stage area was full. The care is here en mass and in abundance. All around me, there are buzzing discussions and connections being made. The sparks have not been put out after all; they have been fuelled and they are very much alive.
Charlotte (Lottie) Clark is a freelance & employed gardener at Pembroke Gardens, University of Cambridge. @_lottie_gardening
The Value of Gardeners panel at the Beth Chatto Symposium was a welcome exploration and discussion on our ‘value’ and what this means for us all, but one comment from Stephanie Li, a horticulturist at Kew Gardens, stood out:
“We need to care more about the people who care.”
This simple, yet profound, statement brings to mind David Orr’s words:
“The plain fact is that the planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people with moral courage willing to join the struggle to make the world habitable and humane, and these qualities have very little to do with success as our culture defines it.” (David Orr, Ecological Literacy)
We are not merely maintaining gardens; gardening is an act of hope, embodying the philosophy of "thinking big, acting small."
Caring for both the aesthetic and ecological aspects of a space is acting as a conduit to something much more complex and wild. As such we find ourselves uniquely positioned to explore this interconnectedness whilst skilfully conveying with our clients and communities. Through our engagements we hope to cultivate a mindset of responsibility and care that extends far beyond the boundaries of any single plot of land.
Horticulture is abuzz with emotionally intelligent gardeners, all building and embodying a system of values learned from the garden itself: patience, humility, connectedness, beauty, celebration, generosity, regeneration. A beautiful antidote to the growing apathy and desensitisation in our modern society.
Gardeners need to employ these faculties to work within a dynamic living space. No master design, or level of planning can cater for a garden’s natural evolution in an ever-changing climate. It requires a responsive gardener; a keen eye and intuition to secure its longevity and prosperity. We are a keystone species - holding everything together; continuously caring aka ‘disturbing and renewing habitats’ and responding to the needs of the landscape.
Our economy and environment are not mutually exclusive, yet our entire socio-economic system is designed from a dominant worldview of ecological disconnection. Constantly suppressing our emotional health. We continue to passively ricochet in a positive and negative feedback loop, buying to placate, to feel something, to find beauty and connection, yet it is not sustainable and will never be enough. Gardeners are portals to the beauty and connection we seek on this planet vs. the endless pursuit of consumerism we have been desensitised to believe we need.
Humanity needs intentional connection with the natural world, and it needs gardeners - caretakers - who will steward a future. What price are we willing to pay, what value do we place on this?
Please let this conversation grow, be a cue to care and to let us all engage our senses.
Photo credit: Alice Minney
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Steph, Alice and Charlotte are being paid for their contributions to this post
I really liked this point: "I put my hand up. I make a point that has been playing on my mind: gardening is valuable when accessible to all but there is a problem of using volunteers as free labour. The practice of planning spaces according to what can be done for free by volunteers to avoid paying a gardener is unsustainable." Would love to know what the response was. I've been thinking a lot about this lately as I come to volunteer myself.
Volunteering is a menace to many industries; it's endemic and ultimately it serves the middle class well. Perhaps it could even be described as a divide and rule tactic and a form of gatekeeping. Gardeners of all flavours need better pay, but let's not reduce it to a single issue. Gardeners are a bit like hospitality or retail workers - everyone has the ability to do those jobs on a superficial level (it was mentioned in the stack) but not everyone can do them well. We all have the same needs, we are all cogs in the machine and we all deserve enough money to live a fulfilled life.