CHAPTER XXVIII

SUMMER COLONIES FOR CITY PEOPLE

(Condensed from the Annual Report of the U. S. Department of the

Interior of the Commissioner of Education. Vol. 2, now out of

print.)

BERLIN has not been boastful of a new sociological feature which it

has developed within the last fifteen years, a feature so

revolutionary in its bearing upon education and upon the general

health of future generations, that it should be made known to the

world. As yet little has been said about this new agency. It may be

because it is not a governmental institution, but the result of

self-help and of the recognition of a plain necessity. It may be

assumed that if the summer colonies had been instituted by the

government for the great majority who are poor it would not have

succeeded so well as it has.

The teachers, seeing that the horizon of their pupils was limited by

brick and mortar (for open park spaces are rare in Berlin), came to

the conclusion that only by giving their pupils opportunity to live

in the open air could they lay a sound foundation of knowledge of

natural objects and processes as a basis for school studies. The

teachers of themselves, however, could apply only palliative

remedies, such as having sent to them, from the botanical gardens,

thousands of specimens of plants, twigs, flowers, fruit, etc., for

nature study in the schoolroom; planting flower beds around the

schoolhouses; also, brief excursions into parks, and hanging up

before the class colored pictures of landscapes and rural scenery.

While in many cases, especially in large cities, the necessity was

recognized of getting the children out of the great desert of brick

and mortar into the open air and into companionship with life in the

field, the garden, the brooks, and the woods, it had nowhere

resulted in a systematic effort to aid the children of an entire

city in that way until it was tried in Berlin. Of course it is well

understood, not only abroad, but in New York and in other large

cities of this country, that something must be done to alleviate the

want of space and fresh air, and so recreation piers and roof

gardens are provided, excursions of schools into parks are

undertaken, open-air playgrounds are instituted, and similar efforts

are made tending to mitigate the evil effects of city life; but all

these efforts are merely sporadic or temporary; they do not attack

the evil at the roots; moreover they are only drops in the bucket

when compared with that which is necessary.

This tendency to cooperative and collective action has resulted in

this particular case in thousands of the children's _"Arbor

Gardens"_ round about the city. It is an experience "en gros," one

of such dimensions that cavil ceases and admiration rises supreme.

The German poor are very poor indeed, but parents were induced to

rent, at a price of 4 marks ($1) or about 20 cents a month from May

to October for the summer season, a patch of land in the suburbs of

Berlin unfit for farmland because cut up by railroad tracks and

newly laid-out streets. On one of these patches a family might erect

an arbor, or a small structure of boards with a wide veranda and a

corrugated iron roof, for housing themselves and children during the

summer months. The dwellings are of the most primitive kind and

rather flimsy; no permanent structure can be allowed, for at any

time the owner of the land may give notice to vacate for the purpose

of erecting a row of houses, railroad buildings, or other permanent

structures. The tenants themselves build fences of wire or plant

hedges to keep the different plots apart. On these patches the

children, under the guidance of teachers, parents, and appointed

guardians, began to sow flower seeds, plant shrubs, vines, and

trees, or raise kitchen vegetables, each group or family according

to its own desires and needs. Since the "arbors" are small they do

not decrease the arable land of the allotments much, and there is

still room left for swings, gymnastic apparatus, and similar

contrivances, as well as bare sandy spots for little tots to play

in. The various allotments are mostly uniform in size and are

reached by narrow three- or four-foot lanes, on which occasionally

are seen probationary officers or guardians who keep the peace and

settle cases of disturbance.

The "arbor gardens" are established on every square rod of unused

land round about the city, on vacant lots, far out to the borders of

the well-trained woods and royal forests. Small tradesmen, laboring

men, civil officials of low degrees, etc., have found it profitable

to forsake their tenements in the city and move kith and kin into

those "arbor colonies." The tenements in Berlin are as bad as in our

own big cities, only better policed.

Not all of these arbor gardens are occupied by families during the

night. Thousands return to their city homes evenings. Some parents,

unable to free themselves from toil in town, send their children

under guidance of servants, and spend only occasional Sundays and

holidays with them.

The people, especially the children, getting some information

concerning the treatment of the crops from competent advisers in

school and out in the arbor colonies, derive great good from their

horticultural and floricultural work. Families who are aesthetically

inclined devote their space to flowers and trailing vines

exclusively; others, utilitarians from necessity, plant potatoes,

carrots, turnips, beets, beans, strawberries, and the like. The

feeling of ownership being strongly developed in the children in

seeing the results of their own labor, the crops are respected by

the neighbors and pilfering rarely occurs, except perhaps in a case

of great hunger.

Several hundred or a thousand of such patches of land, or gardens,

situated in close proximity to each other, form an arbor colony,

which has a governor, or mayor, who is an unpaid city official. He

arranges the leasing of the land, collects the rents, and hands them

over to the gratified landowners who don't even have to collect

them. There is always a retired merchant or civil officer to fill

the office, to which is attached neither title, emolument, nor

special honor. He is assisted by a "colonial committee" of trustees

selected from the colonists, who act as justices of the peace, in

case disturbances should arise. If colonists prove frequent

disturbers of the peace or are found incapable of living quietly,

their leases are not renewed. Of course there are such cases, but

they are rare.

Since the size of an "arbor garden" is from about two sixteenths to

three sixteenths of an acre, say two or three New York City Lots,

those forming a colony make a considerable community, in which the

authority of the committee, or board of trustees, is absolute, and

the few cases they have had to adjudicate have generally been caused

by nagging women. It is claimed in the press that these colonists

are literally without scandals, and that the life led by young and

old is a most peaceful and happy one. People who are hard at work

are not likely to be quarrelsome: good wholesome food, much exercise

in play and labor, and an abundance of fresh air and sunshine are

conducive to happiness, especially as the clothing may be of a

primitive kind, or need not conform to the dictates of fashion.

A teacher remarked: "It is noticeable that since these school

children are engaged in lucrative work which does not go beyond

their strength, and since they see with their own eyes the results

of their labor, a sense of responsibility is engendered which has a

beneficial influence upon school work also. Respect for all kinds of

labor and a decrease in the destructiveness so often found among

boys are unmistakable effects of the arbor gardens. It is not easy

work which the children perform, for spade and rake require muscular

effort; but it is ennobling work, for it leads to self-respect,

self-dependence, and respect for others, as well as willingness to

aid others. The most beautiful sight is afforded when, on a certain

date agreed on by the members of a colony, a harvest festival is

held. Then flag raisings and illuminations and singing and music

make the day a memorable one."

Most of the families had not the means to buy the lumber and

hardware to erect an "arbor," and yet they were the very ones to

whom the life in the open would be of the greatest benefit. Hence

philanthropy erected the structures. The Patriotic Woman's League of

the Red Cross built half of all the "arbors" of the colony found on

the "Jungfernheide." Many colonies reach into the woods, and

naturally are of a different character from those in the open, for

there tents are used instead of wooden structures. For protection

during the night watchmen pace up and down the lanes; this before

the war entailed a cost of 7 1/2 cents a month to each family. The

season lasts from May 1 to October 1.

The school-going population meanwhile attend their schools, which

used to be reached by means of the elevated cars or surface tramways

for 2 1/2 cents and much cheaper if they have commuters' tickets. Many

schools are near enough to be reached on foot. The children do not

loiter on the way, but when school is out they hurry "home" to begin

work in the garden, or to sit down to a meal on the veranda, which

is relished far more than a meal in a city tenement house filled

with fetid air and wanting in light. Nearly every one of these

gardens has a flagpole, and at night a Japanese paper lantern with a

tallow dip in it illuminates the veranda. These, with flags by day,

make a festive appearance. The teachers find that city children who

spend the five months in the open air are well equipped with

elementary ideas in physical geography and astronomy. Their mental

equipment is better, indeed, in all fields of thought, their

physical health is improved, as well as their ethical motives and

conduct.

To realize the full extent of these wholesale efforts (for put

children into close contact with nature and they will improve in all

directions), it is well to take a ride on the North belt line

(elevated steam railroad), the trains of which start from the

Friedrich's street depot and bring one back after a ride of an hour

and a half. Then one may do the same on the South belt line. On

these two trips one will see, not hundreds, but tens of thousands of

such "arbor gardens" full of happy women and children at work or

play. The men come out on the belt line when their work in town is

done. The writer was riding through the city on an open cab, and

seeing hardly any children on the streets and in the parks, he

asked, "How is it that we see no children out?" "Ah, sir," was the

reply, "if you will see the children of Berlin you must go out to

the arbor colonies outside of the city. There is where our children

are." Subsequent visits to these colony gardens showed that Berlin

is by no means a childless city. To judge from the multitudinous

arbors to be seen from the windows of the belt line cars there must

be 50,000 to 75,000 of them. As far as the eye reaches the

flagpoles, the orderly fences, and the little structures can be

seen; and since the city has 2,000,000 inhabitants, it is very

likely that an estimate made by a city official of several hundred

thousands of children thus living in the open air, is not excessive.

The most beautiful and best-arranged gardens are not found in the

vicinity of railroads, but several miles out toward the north and

the south of the city. Here, where the soil is better, fine crops

are raised.

If we turn our eyes homeward and contemplate the many thousands of

small efforts made in this country toward the alleviation of city

children's misery, we can say truthfully that we in America are

perhaps fully alive to the necessity which has prompted the people

of Berlin to action; we only need to be reminded of Mayor Pingree's

potato patches on empty city lots, our children's outing camps, our

occasional children's excursions, and the like. Still, there is

nothing in this country to compare with the thousands of Berlin

"arbor gardens" and their singularly convincing force. Like a

circus, all this is supposed to be for the children, though it

usually seems to need about two grown people to escort each child.

The elders enjoy the gardens even more than the circus.

The arbor gardens of Berlin should not be mistaken for the numerous

"forest schools" (Waldschulen) in Germany. These schools "in the

woods" are for sickly children, both physically crippled and

mentally weak. The pupils have their lessons in the open, and the

teachers live, play, and work with them; long recesses separate the

various lessons and a two-hour nap in the middle of the day out in

the open is on the time-table of every one of these schools. These

special open-air schools for weaklings and defectives are now found

in many parts of Germany, notably in Charlottenburg, Strassburg, and

the industrial regions of the Rhineland.

The example of Berlin has been followed in other German cities, such

as Munich, notably in Dusseldorf on the Rhine, where the arbor

gardens are called "Schreber gardens" in honor of the man who

promoted their establishment. There is a large colony of such

gardens along the Hans-Sachs street, where Lima beans, peas,

lettuce, cucumbers, potatoes, and many other garden vegetables are

raised; even strawberries, raspberries, and fruit trees are found

here. But the city being more lavishly provided with parks and open

spaces than others of its size, the necessity for open-air life has

not made itself felt as forcibly as in Berlin.

And think of the cleansing influence of all this. Light and air and

labor--these are the medicines not of the body only, but of the

soul. It is not ponderable things alone that are found in gardens,

but the great wonder of life, the peace of nature, the influences of

sunsets and seasons and of all the intangible things to which we can

give no name, not because they are small, but because they are

outside the compass of our speech. The God that dwells in gardens is

sufficient for all our needs--let the theologians say what they

will.

"'Not God! in gardens? When the eve is cool?

Nay, but I have a sign--

'Tis very sure--God walks in mine.'"

Three Acres and Liberty · 第 28 / 28 章