Imagine a world where kids aren't afraid of nature, but empowered by it. Where a hurricane's devastation becomes a lesson in resilience and self-sufficiency. That's the vision behind an innovative after-school program in Asheville, North Carolina, that's teaching kids to forage – and it's more vital than you might think, especially in our increasingly unpredictable world.
Meet Juniper Stewart, a bright 12-year-old who's as comfortable identifying wild mushrooms as she is humming along to indie rock. Once a Taylor Swift fan, she now has a passion for The Cranberries, and a deep understanding of the natural world around her. Juniper can confidently point out a Pilobolus mushroom (which, yes, grows on “cow poop,” as she cheerfully explains), and she knows the many uses of the ubiquitous plantain leaf – delicious in salads and soothing as a poultice for stings. Her home is filled with drying sourwood leaves for tea, and the simple joy of popping jewelweed seed pods fills her with delight.
But here's where it gets controversial... Is it really safe to let kids loose in the woods, eating wild plants and mushrooms? We'll get to the safety concerns shortly, but first, let's delve into the program that sparked Juniper's passion.
Juniper's knowledge comes from an after-school program in Asheville and neighboring towns that teaches kids, aged five to twelve, about foraging. For three days a week, students from City Mountain Public Montessori venture into forests and fields with experienced guides from "No Taste Like Home", learning to identify and harvest the edible treasures in their own backyards - berries, mushrooms, leafy greens, and even flavorful twigs.
The program is the brainchild of Alan Muskat, a self-proclaimed "philosoforager." For the past 30 years, Muskat's educational company, "No Taste Like Home," has been teaching locals and tourists about the incredible bounty of the Southern Appalachians, a region renowned for its biodiversity. The reasons for foraging are numerous: self-reliance, a deeper connection with nature, sustainability, and a reminder of where our food truly comes from.
And this is the part most people miss... The program wasn't just about connecting kids with nature; it was born out of a specific crisis. Muskat conceived the idea in the wake of Hurricane Helene, a devastating storm that ravaged Asheville in September 2024, causing immense damage and loss of life. For Muskat, the foraging program became a form of "different kind of hurricane relief." He saw it as a way to address the deeper societal issues exposed by the disaster.
Muskat believes that many of society's problems stem from our disconnect from the natural world, our tendency to live in opposition to it rather than in harmony. After the hurricane, he wanted to impart this lesson to young people who had lived through the storm. "The intention was that by gathering food from nature, kids that just went through a hurricane that might have killed their friends might learn not to fear and distrust nature so much," he explained. "Nature feeds us more than it floods us." It's a powerful statement, but one that resonates deeply in a community still grappling with the aftermath.
Helene's impact is still felt in Asheville. Juniper's mom, Jessica Braun-Ferris, wanted her daughter to connect with nature and appreciate healthy plants over processed snacks. But she also had the stark images of shuttered supermarkets and contaminated water supplies from the hurricane fresh in her mind. "It felt a little to me when the hurricane happened that we were in a dress rehearsal for what could happen with [future] natural disasters," Braun-Ferris said. "The grocery store shelves were completely bare and people were eating government-rationed food, which is not as healthy as making a big chickweed [a common green in western North Carolina] salad." She recalled a neighbor who built a sophisticated water filtration system and helped others when the water supply failed. She wondered if foragers could play a similar critical role in future crises.
During the after-school program, kids were transported from school to an educational site outside Asheville. Guided by "No Taste Like Home" instructors, they would "run around and find things, and ask if they were edible," explains nine-year-old Jemma Ferrington, whose house was destroyed in the hurricane. She added, "I’d identify lots of things, like some mushrooms that had gills, and some that had a sponge at the bottom.” A baby chicken-of-the-woods mushroom was her favorite find, thanks to its "squishy and fun" texture.
Now, let's address the elephants in the room: challenges and safety concerns.
The program hasn't been without its hurdles. Muskat faced difficulties finding a bus driver, delaying the program's launch. Then, some disruptive students raised concerns about teaching kids without parental supervision. "You don’t teach foraging to kids who aren’t paying attention," Muskat emphasized.
Perhaps the most significant challenge arose when a staff member questioned Muskat's decision to let kids eat white milk cap mushrooms, which can cause stomach irritation in large quantities. This incident prompted Muskat to reinforce the importance of caution and remind the kids that not all white mushrooms are safe to eat. He acknowledged the validity of the concern, stating that one of the "golden rules of foraging is, don’t overgeneralize."
Beyond the after-school program, "No Taste Like Home" has also organized two foraging field trips with ample adult supervision, which they hope to repeat in 2026. They also invite children who participated in the after-school program, along with their parents, to join the company's regular weekend foraging tours for a small fee.
On a crisp Saturday in late October, Braun-Ferris, Juniper, and Jemma joined guide Dimitri Magiasis on a tour. Magiasis, who discovered foraging while studying naturopathy in Seattle, has been working with Muskat for nine years, leading several tours each week. He expressed his delight in having kids join his weekend tours. "Kids aren’t indoctrinated yet," he said. "They’re taken by the plants and by the mushroom world in a way that I can’t put into words. Because of that, they can really get immersed in a deep way.”
Magiasis's tour commenced in Black Mountain, about 15 miles outside Asheville, on the grounds of a community dedicated to living off the land. The road leading from the interstate was still under construction due to the damage caused by Hurricane Helene. Magiasis gathered the group near a rushing brook to explain that they would be "meeting" plants such as cool-weather greens, herbs, spices, and mushrooms, although a recent drought had reduced the mushroom population.
Magiasis emphasized that this is simply a part of foraging, which requires a shift in how we think about food availability. "You go into the grocery store and find onions, apples, lettuce 365 days per year," he said. "Nature doesn’t work that way. She’s going to provide what she’s going to provide." He likened the emergence and decay of different plants throughout the year to an orchestra, each playing their part in the season.
Just a short walk from the parking lot, Magiasis stopped in a field to scout for leafy greens. Jemma and Juniper eagerly displayed their knowledge: when Magiasis pointed out a furry vine clinging to a tree, they excitedly shouted, “poison ivy!” They even sampled spicebush twigs, which are perfect for tea. As the group ventured into the woods, Magiasis identified leafy greens like chickweed, plantain, and wood sorrel; bright purple American beauty berries for jams or desserts; and mushrooms like turkey tail and steak of the woods, which shares the same vibrant color as its namesake. To conclude the tour, Magiasis sautéed a steak-of-the-wood mushroom with some greens and served them on crackers, which he jokingly admitted to foraging from Trader Joe’s.
Safety is paramount for Magiasis. He meticulously points out the distinguishing features of chickweed: smooth leaf edges, a spade or heart shape, and fur on only one side. He carefully inspects each person's leaf before they are allowed to eat it, counting to three before everyone pops them into their mouths.
For many, safety is a primary concern when it comes to foraging, especially for children. Western North Carolina is home to ten to twelve deadly mushroom species, and hundreds more that can cause severe illness. However, guides and parents alike stressed that knowledge is power and that, in their view, it is actually more dangerous not to teach children how to forage.
"Kids who are not learning how to forage are always gathering things. It’s just what kids do," said Braun-Ferris, recalling how Juniper used to try to eat unidentified red berries in their yard as a toddler. "Learning this stuff is safer than not."
For Muskat, Magiasis, and the other guides, the potential safety concerns are overshadowed by the joy and empowerment they witness when kids realize where their food comes from. "I had a kid the other day who said, ‘It’s so amazing that you can turn nature into food,’" Muskat shared.
Now it's your turn to weigh in. Is teaching kids to forage a valuable skill for self-sufficiency and connection with nature, or does the risk of accidental poisoning outweigh the benefits? Should such programs be more widespread, or are they best left to highly specialized and supervised settings? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below!
