SHAWVER FARM READERS
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My brother and I are fourth generation stewards of this land and wanted to honor the Shawver family history while opening it to others. We developed Shawver Farm as a place for people to gather and celebrate, emphasizing Mother Nature. With community a pillar of Shawver Farm, and a desire to honor our mom, the idea for Shawver Farm Readers was born. Mom was a firm believer in the power of reading aloud to children and I wanted to build a program around this practice, hoping to include students at Cherry River Elementary, the local elementary school where she taught in her later years. As the idea began to take shape, I partnered with yet another Milken Award winner here in Nicholas County, Susan Barrett. In her, I see why she and Mom were kindred spirits. Soon, other outstanding educators joined us, helping select books and plan experiences beyond the classroom. We paired a volunteer reader with each classroom, handling the planning ourselves so classroom teachers could simply enjoy the experience with their students.
On October 8, 2026 the idea of Shawver Farm Readers came to life as we welcomed 3rd, 4th and 5th grade students to Shawver Farm. In our commercial kitchen, they measured and mixed ingredients for snack mixes inspired by their books. In the gathering hall, they settled in to hear the opening chapters read aloud. At the pavilion, egg carton pieces became the foundation for character portraits, brought to life with watercolors and other materials, with inspiration from a local artist. And on a nature walk, accompanied by my retired high school science teacher and the pond digger himself – my brother - students learned about how all this water got here (springs!) and the habitats the ponds support. They also saw the swamp milkweed stripped bare having been visited by many monarch caterpillars earlier in the season. This could not have happened without the support and help of school staff, the assistance of parent volunteers as well as the Director of Special Education and Director of Federal Programs helping. But the heart of the program will be in the classroom over the next several weeks as students listen to the stories of Winn Dixie, Edward Tulane and Despereaux unfold. We look forward to another field trip to Shawver Farm in November with activities built around the journeys of these characters.
As I write this from Shawver Farm, overlooking the ponds, I see the trees, blue sky, Black-eyed Susans (Mom’s favorite), puffy clouds and a great blue heron all mirrored on the water. There’s a gentle breeze. A carp breaks the surface in the shallow end. From these seemingly insignificant movements, ripples spread outward across the pond. I think of her. Perhaps teaching is much the same: never knowing how far the ripples will reach but knowing where they begin.
In 1992 I was my mom’s plus one attending the Milken Awards Ceremony, which at the time meant traveling to California. It was an extravagant affair by any definition. Perhaps this is why my memories are not so much about my mom being a recipient as about the experiences I had while there: going to a live taping of Seinfeld, shopping on Rodeo Drive, and, though it seems nearly unbelievable, having Michael Jackson perform on our last evening in the intimate setting of the ballroom. Of course, this was before you could grab your phone and get a crystal-clear image from across the room, so my photographic evidence is kind of a blurry blob. I think mom downplayed her “Oscars of Teaching” moment too (we still have the obelisk!), because the one thing I remember is her going on and on about how fabulous the fresh fruit was.
The accolades were not important to Mom, and there were many. Rather, she had a need…a hunger…for teaching children that never ceased in all her years of teaching. However, when mom turned 62 and was eligible for retirement, it coincided with circumstances in my own family that created a void which she decided was important for her to fill. She retired quietly, under the radar, without fanfare. My son Eli was five at the time, diagnosed with autism and moderate intellectual impairment. She set up her classroom in a forgotten corner of the basement of my house, tearing down cobwebs to make room for alphabet charts and word families; and the teaching began. She coordinated her lessons with his teachers, signing off on emails as “Mammaw.” On the days Eli would be in school Mom, not able to help herself, found her way back into the school system, this time in the neighboring county as a reading coach. She spent the last seven years of her life this way…teaching at home, teaching at school…teaching…teaching…teaching. When the school year ended, Mom returned to her beloved homeplace for the summer here on Hinkle Mountain. With the start of another school year, she usually brought with her monarch caterpillars and leaves of milkweed, never tiring of witnessing the miracle of metamorphosis.
