A makeshift sign reads “All Welcome”, whilst a bustle of people in straw hats take part in digging, carrying wheelbarrows, and discussing next week’s watering rota.
Here, at Ruskin Community Garden, you may think you have walked into a countryside idyll in the centre of Camberwell. Its city location is only betrayed by the sight of skyscrapers in the distance and the faint sound of sirens.
Run by volunteers, this grassroots project aims to “grow fruit and vegetables and teach people about growing local food,” says the garden’s leader and self-professed amateur gardener, Justin Brady.
But it is also much more than that, Brady explains. “It’s about community, we share ideas, learn from each other. It gives people a sense of society and a connection to the area they live. It’s what it is all about – promoting mental health as well as physical health.”
Across London and cities worldwide, the pandemic and successive lockdowns brought a renewed interest in the outdoors and urban green spaces. Yet, one in five households in London during this time had no access to a private or shared garden – the highest percentage in the UK.
Hence, community gardens became more important than ever. By reclaiming forgotten or derelict land and bringing people together in a shared project, they have helped to combat exclusion, loneliness and improve social well-being.
“Gardening is no longer for the few”
Yet, these spaces still struggle to involve a diverse group of people. “It has been mainly white, middle-class volunteers,” says Brady. “I believe some people feel a sense of alienation, or that they don’t belong here, and we are trying to overcome that.”
This issue is replicated across horticulture, as gardening has long been seen as an activity for the privileged – an exclusive space for “older, white, middle-class people,” suggests Carole Wright, a community gardener and activist.
“For me, it’s very political. It’s all about access. How do you garden if you have no land?” says Wright.
“Even community gardens can be sites of social exclusion rather than social inclusion,” she says, “so these projects always must ask: Who is really the beneficiary of this? What do these projects provide for Black and Brown communities, for working-class people?”
Wright founded Blak Outside during the first lockdown – a Black-led, grassroots collective that aims “to use community gardens to lead the way for collective action,” she says. It helps set up gardens and festivals that are “truly inclusive and accessible” across housing estates in Southwark.
For those that feel alienated by gardening, she explains: “They see that there is a Black woman who doesn’t care about what gardening should be or gardeners should be seen as.”
Bringing people from all over the world, who live on these estates, together, Wright says, “that’s when you deal with what a community can be. It’s the mixing of cultures, what they bring to this space.”
A mile away from Ruskin Community Garden is another pocket of inner-city wild – Brixton Orchard. It is a striking site where fruit trees, flowers, and vegetables are grown right at the intersection of two main roads. Built in 2018, the site only a year earlier recorded some of the highest pollution levels in London.
It is part of an initiative for cleaner air, but really it is a community project aiming to make use of once-neglected land and connect local people. “Anyone can help, even if you know nothing about gardening,” says Nazmine Nahar.
Nahar, who lives nearby, has helped every Thursday for two years and learnt to garden from scratch. “I don’t have any outside space and so over Covid this was so important for me to be here, be outdoors and be with people,” she says.
Taye Tsega, who runs Brixton Orchard and others like it in the area, has been campaigning to let people know that everyone is welcome.
“Managing a community garden is all about patience,” he says. They’ve had to fight against people damaging the gardening, for funding, and to include an inclusive group of volunteers. But slowly they’ve seen things start to change.
Community gardeners are working in skillful ways to make gardens spaces of inclusion, says Dr Claire Nettle, from Flinders University, whose research focuses on governance and urban public space.
“The hard work is happening,” she adds. And, it seems to be spreading as community gardens continue to pop up across London, according to Capital Growth.
“Community gardening and fighting for community gardens can be a kind of gateway activism,” Nettle says, “relationships can be forged, debates conducted, ideas developed, and democratic skills acquired.”
It is here, she explains, that a sense of belonging can be found – in these grassroots, creative and political sites.
Gardening is no longer for the few, and across South London, it is happening on patches of neglected land, across housing estates and on roofs of buildings.
Whether for community building, activism or simply to get people outdoors, these humble community gardens have big plans. They can be a powerful means of social connection and inclusion for those that nurture these spaces, and, in turn, are nurtured by them.