Valerie Goode, who founded and leads Coco Collective, a black-led gardening initiative in South London, shared her thoughts: “When we leave food production in others’ hands, we essentially place our health, happiness, and identity in their control. Reclaiming our food allows us to regain our strength.”
Established four years ago, the collective tends to several plots within Lewisham’s 1,200 square meters of neglected land, catering to a small group within the African diaspora. “It’s about healing and reconnecting with our history through the soil.”
Many volunteers in the garden, according to Goode, come from families who have a rich history of working the land. The group’s approach is “radical,” emphasizing respect for Mother Earth and recognizing the interconnectedness of all beings.
This innovative perspective might be unexpected to find in a library, yet the collective’s efforts are central to a new exhibition at the British Library in London. The exhibition focuses on the intricate social and political narratives of cultivation, land usage, and plant acquisition throughout British history.
While extremism isn’t typically tied to British gardening, the crops and practices have long been subjects of contention. Long before gardening became a leisure activity, it served as a vital lifeline. As members of the Coco Collective stated in a short film featured in the exhibition, “We’ve grown longer than we’ve written books.”
“Gardening is more than just a hobby; it has a wonderfully rich history,” remarked Maddie Smith, who is the curator of the library’s printed heritage collection from 1601-1900 and the exhibition’s lead curator.
In previous exhibitions, the library showcased “the more spectacular side of gardening,” but Smith feels that gardening is enjoyed by many diverse communities.
Among the artifacts displayed is an 11th-century guide on herbal therapy, the only surviving piece from Anglo-Saxon England, as well as a book titled “Kitchen Gardens” by Richard Gardiner, which teaches communities to grow vegetables following the Strat Strat Harvest in the 1590s.
The common land historically shared by rural communities has undergone significant enclosure since the population decline during the 1348 plague, often transforming into private ownership, which in turn spurred social unrest. A 1791 map of Bowbrick Hill in Buckinghamshire illustrates how land was divided among various gentry, with some areas assigned to the “president” and smaller patches designated as “the poor allocation.”
“For centuries, people have fought for their rights in gardens, opposing privatization and the encirclement of land,” stated Smith. Historical records from the 17th century reveal movements advocating land reform. For example, gardeners in Levenshulme, near Manchester, used cabbage planting as a protest, claiming to cultivate church land “for the unemployed” in 1906.
The exhibition highlights that British gardens were never just practical or ornamental spaces. The early 19th-century orchid trends, depicted beautifully in literature, ultimately harmed local ecosystems. Additionally, in 1788, the Royal Navy’s desire for New Zealand flax led to two Māori chiefs being summoned to teach its cultivation—a task typically assigned to women, which the men reluctantly declined.
Even the impeccably illustrated landscapes by Brown at Blenheim Palace from 1771 are contextualized within a monoculture that shapes the English countryside. They sit alongside a striking contemporary poster by artist Sam Wallman, who critiques the lawn as a “symbol of control, domination, and status,” provocatively titled “hoo on the grass.”
