Any moment can be a teachable moment

If I had to pick—and please don’t make me—the days I get to share my love of all things baking—the ovens, the mill, the mixers, sourdough culture, the history of grain, and the place bread and bakers reside in the cultural fabric of communities around the world, and yes, even firewood—with kids of all ages are some of the very best days. Offering my time to share a few words about how a business can be much more than simply a place of employment and commerce is a part of my job I value most.

Over the course of a year, I’ll find myself standing in front of one of our ovens, talking with groups of kids or teens, a dozen or more times. Sometimes it’s a school field trip; other times it’s just by chance, and very often they are groups who’ve arrived from Kroka Expeditions, a neighbor of ours two miles down the road. These photos from a recent snowy January Sunday are from our most recent collaboration. Since 2009, groups of enthusiastic teens and young adults enrolled in one of Kroka’s semester programs have made the journey from Kroka, in all seasons, often on foot, sometimes by bicycle, always excited to work and to learn. We might stack wood, move bags of flour, weed gardens, or scrub racks, but we always share food and talk about the bakery’s place in this community and the world beyond. The now hundreds of students in those programs I’ve been given the chance to work, cook, and teach alongside have committed themselves—for at least the five months they’re in the program—to pursuing discovery, service, learning, and above all, curiosity about whatever lies around the next corner. On at least a few of those days, Orchard Hill is around the next corner, and what we get to experience is a rare exchange in this age that’s not quantified or monetized, but instead simply adds another page in a now long and sturdy book of mutual respect and care between people.

Why do these interactions feel so meaningful to me? During my childhood, I was lucky enough to meet adults who, when they told you about their craft, were so passionate their eyes brightened and you could feel the excitement flowing out of them as they spoke. Those memories were an inspiration for me as this place came into being, and continue to fuel my desire to share that same kind of passion with the young people I meet. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that there are fewer opportunities for such real-life encounters in today’s world than there were thirty or forty years ago, so I carry on this tradition with pride, hoping that perhaps a few of the individuals who spend part of their day hearing about wood-fired ovens, ancient bread-making practices, or the life of a baker might take that seed and grow it into something meaningful to them in their lives.