In September 2025, I bought a ticket to hear Doug Talamy speak about bugs, birds and native plants at Sherman St. Church. He talked for two hours, while simultaneously showing the audience glorious photographs of aforementioned bugs, birds and native plants. What I gleaned from this evening with Talamy was this: lawns are bad for the birds and the bugs. Therefore, the huge lawn surrounding my college house had to go.
I am a kinesiology and art student who had literally no experience in the world of native plants — I knew I was going to need help. So, I did one of my favorite things: I sent a good email. Describing myself as a “newly formed caterpillar enthusiast,” my rowdy message to the one and only Dave Warners, detailed how “It would be epic to turn a swath of the grass into a playground for caterpillars and all manner of creatures as soon as humanly possible.” This beloved Calvin biology professor and director of Plaster Creek Stewards (PCS) responded with near equal verve, articulating that it would indeed be possible for this project to come to fruition.
And so, the journey began. You may be wondering, why was a project such as this on your mind at all? Well, I live in the Garden House, a Calvin Living-Learning Community with an emphasis on sustainable living. We compost, propagate plants, feverishly reuse tupperware, create our own cleaning products and acquire couches for fun. Allie, Dom, Elaina and I were looking for a project to embark on, at the prompt from our house advisor Julie Wildschut. “A sustainability related project” is very open ended. While sitting in a Sherman St. pew, the idea to plant a native garden hit me like a truck, and I decided to roll with it. With the seed planted and the email sent, a meeting with Warners was scheduled. He cautioned us that this project was probably going to take a long time, and it was highly unlikely that we could get plants in the ground before October as I had originally hoped; as it turns out, we needed experts. His first and most helpful suggestion was to chunk up the project into phases.
Thus began phase one: asking the Calvin bureaucracy to do away with thousands of square feet of sod. The key? Ask for permission in writing. Our proposal request asked for approval to “create detailed plans with Plaster Creek Stewards for a native plant pollinator garden on Garden House property.” In an effort to be academic and unflappable, our three justifications for the project were: Calvin’s commitment to sustainability, setting a new precedent of sustainability for the members of the Garden House and ✨aesthetics✨.
Calvin University describes environmental sustainability as “a joyful response to God’s love for the world and God’s invitation to participate in the renewal of all things.” In the opinion of science, as well as many students and staff, lawn maintenance is not sustainable and harms the environment in unacceptable ways. Replacing a lawn with a native plant garden is sustainable, energy efficient and creation-friendly. Most Calvin Living-Learning Communities have clearcut goals and rules that they live by. The Garden House does not, other than the expectation to focus on sustainable living and volunteer 10 hours a semester. A student-run garden gives current and future residents a sustainable practice to unite around.
And finally, it would be pretty. Although the property is named “Garden House,” the landscaping and yard does not yet live up to the name of this residence. A swath of native plants and shrubbery will attract all manner of pollinators and beautify the premises. Native flowers, ground cover and pollinator-friendly plants are more attractive than mowed grass and scrubby bushes.
After submitting the proposal, and waiting for a long time, the Calvin bureaucracy said yes, we could make a plan, kicking off phase two! By late November, Plaster Creek Stewards created a site design and budget proposal. The two stipulations for the project were that we needed to raise a minimum of $2,000 and transplant 120 plug flats. My first thought upon receiving the plan: why on earth does it cost so much money to plant a garden? Turns out trees are expensive, and covering 3,600 square feet of ground in plants takes a lot of plants. Our plan was approved relatively quickly, and suddenly I found myself in the position of trying to figure out how to find at least $2000 and to learn to transplant plants.
Fundraising isn’t all that hard. All you gotta do is ask everyone you know with money for money, and hope that they give you money. Tell people, “just act like it’s your tithe!!” or say “it’s just three dollars” and then they give you money. It’s magical. My Venmo balance grew to a terrifying volume, and I understood why people commit financial crimes. Within three weeks, our minimum moolah was made. Figuring out how to arrange days and times to transplant plants was another task entirely. Some PCS staff constantly have their hands covered in dirt, making it difficult to promptly respond to emails. Eventually, we made it to the greenhouse and learned that the process of transplanting plants isn’t scary at all! It goes as follows: you gently remove a small bundle of baby plants from a flat and pluck out a single stem. After poking a hole in the dirt of an empty plug flat, you set the weensy little plant in the hole and tuck the dirt in around it nice and tight. Plants are a little silly and can’t exactly tell when they’re in dirt, unless they’re packed in snug. After three separate workdays and the help of friends, professors and grandparents, all 120 plug flats were transplanted!
As the stipulations for the project were met, all that was left was to plant. Plaster Creek Stewards is wildly busy in the spring, but graciously let us schedule the garden installation for April 18. I am so excited.
This project is a testament to what this school can do for its students. If you’ve ever perused Calvin’s website you can see it boasts “a big mission: equipping students to be agents of renewal, ready to step into the public square and renew all things for the glory of Christ.” By sending my enthusiastic email, full of whimsy and joy, I stepped into the public square to renew a 3,600 square foot swath of stupid grass for the glory of Christ. This wouldn’t have been possible without this community: the professors I leaned on for guidance, the friends who read my proposal drafts and the PCS team members who embraced me despite my lack of knowledge of their plant world and helped me along.
How are you going to live into the idea of taking chances and making change? I have no doubt that you, dear reader, are capable of doing just that. If someone like me, a pre-health-art-loving-choir-nerd who tries to propagate all of her houseplants, was able to organize and mobilize this behemoth of a project, you can literally do anything.