I spent this past spring and summer exploring a new hobby. For the first time in my adult life I have a little yard and patio, and I decided to try to garden. Like any good student, the first place I went to seek gardening knowledge was the library. I checked out an absurd amount of gardening books and absorbed the wisdom of experts. I bought seeds from small, organic farms around the country, and researched indigenous theories of plant cultivation. For some reason not entirely clear to me, I decided I needed to grow everything from seed and my kitchen table quickly became a science lab from February through May.
I watched a university seminar on how to battle urban rats. I learned how to quickly decipher which gardening blogs were written by people with similar aspirations as mine and which ones were written by Christian-nationalist preppers. I took free courses on seed saving, traditional planting methods of Southern Mexico, and cover crops. I discovered my beloved press-on nails don’t stay on for very long when you’re digging in the dirt with your fingers. I planted some things too early and some too late. I downloaded a plant identifier app. I talked to neighbors and friends about their own gardens. I wore a giant sunhat and waved mosquito-repelling incense sticks around like a kooky garden witch. I learned a lot but in the grand scheme of (garden) things, I didn’t learn much.
Working in a micro urban garden is strange. You spend moments completely immersed in weeding, planting, or harvesting, feeling connected to the earth, but one second later you hear your neighbors yelling at each other and you snap out of that pastoral moment. I’m not able to reconcile the noises and smells of my neighborhood with the idyllic flowers and vegetables I tried to cultivate. When I began researching gardening, I imagined myself walking around a small but abundant cottage garden filled with bees and butterflies. The reality of my garden falls under the “chaos” category and won’t be featured in a Martha Stewart magazine, but I’m proud of what I’ve done to make the space a little more amenable to our local pollinators (and probably rats if we’re being honest).
Up until this experience, I considered myself a patient person. I’ve worked with children and teens, volunteer with non-native English speakers, and in general spend a lot of time being flexible toward others. Gardening challenged my self-perception in this regard. I spent too much time staring at soil, waiting for the seed or seedling I babied to flourish and bloom. I spent weeks watering what I thought was a strawberry plant only to realize I had nurtured an invasive weed. These little green things I poured my sweat and time into tested me. They told me that no matter what I did, no matter how much I researched, how many hours I spent tending to them, nature was always going to do what it wanted to do. The cilantro will bolt. The rats will nibble on my basil seedlings. The dahlias will grow slowly and never bloom. The peppers won’t ripen under the duress of the extremely hot DC summer weather. The birds will refuse to eat the grain I planted specifically for them so they don’t eat my other plants. And I was forced to accept it.
Some of my favorite career advice I ever received was from a former principal I worked for. She told me that educators need to find hobbies. It could be baking, woodworking, bicycling, whatever. Educators should pursue a hobby where they start a project and see it through to completion. So much of the work of educators (and people who work in ministry and other caring professions as well) is planting seeds in their students, but never seeing the fruit of their labor. A hobby where you work on a project from beginning to end is an antidote to the sometimes upsetting idea that even though we spend most of our time laying the groundwork for the success of our students, we may never know how we impacted those students or witness their successes. Being an caretaker is an exercise in hope.
I need that hope. I need to believe in a better tomorrow. In the power of the collective. In knowing that I can try again. That when I despair there will always be someone to hold my hand. In the promise of liberation. In God’s grace. That the seeds will sprout and the flowers will bloom every season.
“We have to do small things and believe a big difference is coming. It’s like the miraculous drops of water that seep through mountain limestone. They gather themselves into springs that flow into creeks that merge into rivers that find their way to oceans. Our work is to envision the drops as oceans. We do our small parts and know a powerful ocean of love and compassion is downstream. Each small gesture can lead to liberation. The bravest thing we can do in this world is not cling to old ideas or fear of judgment, but step out and just do something for love’s sake.” -Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM
For Your Consideration: A Poem I’ve Been Reading Regularly Over the Past Several Months
Questionnaire
Wendell Berry
1. How much poison are you willing
to eat for the success of the free
market and global trade? Please
name your preferred poisons.2. For the sake of goodness, how much
evil are you willing to do?
Fill in the following blanks
with the names of your favorite
evils and acts of hatred.3. What sacrifices are you prepared
to make for culture and civilization?
Please list the monuments, shrines,
and works of art you would
most willingly destroy.4. In the name of patriotism and
the flag, how much of our beloved
land are you willing to desecrate?
List in the following spaces
the mountains, rivers, towns, farms
you could most readily do without.5. State briefly the ideas, ideals, or hopes,
the energy sources, the kinds of security,
for which you would kill a child.
Name, please, the children whom
you would be willing to kill.
Links To Click On When You’re Bored At Work
A look into the groundbreaking decision to try a mass shooter’s parents.
Learn about the gorgeous work of indigenous beadworker Teri Greeves
A story that hits (physically) close to home for me: The Nazi of Oak Park.
This is where I get to tell you that I think football is evil (for a number of reasons) and every new investigative article about CTE makes me more steadfast in this belief.
The “Green Glacier” threatening our prairies.
A bike theft ring solved by a normie.
A novice beekeeper shares his story.
The incredible world of seeds.
A Wisconsin Catholic Worker, Cassandra Dixon, is raising money to return to Masafer-Yatta in the West Bank where she has volunteered in peace keeping visits for 15 years. Consider reading her fundraising letter and donating here.
Things That Are Bringing Me Joy
Connecting with friends and traveling with family.
Photos of my adorable nephews.
Joining new communities.
This year’s DC Transitus celebration.
Children’s Halloween costumes.
Working on a handmade ornament for an ornament swap I’m participating in.
My husband making me laugh even in the midst of difficulty and sadness.
With hope,
Maeve