How I'm working with slow-permaculture in a Swedish neighbourhood
Trees don't survive without social support
When I organised climate conversations for researchers and journalists one of the presentations was about why tree planting ‘carbon sink’ projects often don’t work.
The reason was that local people in these areas of the developing world saw the project as part of a pattern of people from outside coming in and taking over. Without local support the trees often didn’t live long, and any carbon offset was a myth or merely a success on the balance sheets of the companies.
So when I launched my own local reforesting project in my neighbourhood of Stockholm I made sure to prioritise the human element.
I started as early as I could, and I didn’t care that meant I started small. I planted two baby apple trees on a corner of public land, after an agreement with the city council.
Even before I planted I went round and talked to the school and daycare nearby and changed my plans in dialogue with them based on which part of the land they wanted to use. I made it clear I wasn’t taking over the land, rather I was trying to make our common land better – and any trees and fruit were available as a resource for their school children and toddlers.
I scouted the land beforehand.
Which ‘desire paths’ were people making over this park land that I should make sure to avoid?
I visited the site at different times of day to understand how it fitted into people’s lives and what the human geographical context was.
I then made sure to work on the tree planting itself around 8am when the paths around the land were full of parents taking their children to school.
I made sure to greet them and look them in the eyes and establish human contact: “This is me. These aren’t two anonymous trees that ‘someone’ has planted. These aren’t lampposts, these aren’t part of the normal system of ‘those in power’ making things randomly appear in your area. This is me, and I am here to be vulnerable and show you that there is a person linked to this project.”
I also made several posts on the local Facebook group about me and my apple trees and explaining, again, that I wasn’t taking over the land, but adding something that would benefit everyone.
Not everyone likes trees. Some think fallen fruit and leaves are messy. Some don’t want any more shade. Others are against change they are not involved with.
So I tried to use my social media skills to make these inviting and living conversations, and post plenty of updates so me and my trees became known as local characters. This also means every time I helped out via the local Facebook group it fed into the good reputation of the trees.
This personal discussion created the setting for people to write stories in their heads about how they understood the trees – and I had already written the first page as a good news story by introducing myself.
After a while of me updating and making sure it was clear I was serious about this people started to offer to help out.
No one actually ever did help out – but what the offers meant was a new norm had been created. “We like the trees. It is now the norm that we like and support the trees.”
So I felt comfortable moving forward. I have now got permission for enough land to plant four more trees, nearby. Also a small square of lawn near my home turned out to be council land.
After talking with my neighbours and, again, establishing a common understanding, I’m also taking this over. A dialogue is important.
For example, a neighbour pointed out she doesn’t want all the bushes cut away, because she wants a screen of cover that hides the bike shed while she’s locking up her bike. And I also found out people had been quietly planting crocuses and strawberries in this patch for years. So moving forward I need to take all this onboard and work with their wishes and so we can create a new understanding about the local space, rather than me coming in and declaring a takeover.
Another step I’m taking to anchor the project locally is proposing to my housing association that we start up a gardening group for people who want to be part of this project. I expect to keep on taking all the responsibility and doing almost all the work, but this kind of group creates links to local institutions, makes the project more permanent, and helps me with buying more spades and trees.
At one of the recent meetings with the housing association (about a different topic) someone said. “Hey. I know you. You’re the apple tree guy.”
After three years of slowly working away, the apple trees have not only taken root in the soil, but in the local imagination. They are part of the neighbourhood’s cognitive landscape, and I think that gives them the best chance of survival.