Hidden Gems

 

“Inclusion is not bringing people into what already exists; it is making a new space, a better space for everyone.” - George Dei

Do you know what constitutes a weed? “It is defined as a valueless plant growing wild, especially one that grows on cultivated ground to the exclusion or injury of the desired crop.” In other words, it is a native plant to a space that grows in areas controlled by humans in crops, orchards, or gardens, and its presence there is deemed undesirable. Some may say that the creation of the term, weed, about plant life in need of removal, is a social construct perpetuated by our ideas or beliefs about what preferential landscapes include. In other words, there are things we want in our gardens and those we don’t. There are few instances where weeds harm native plant populations and surrounding ecosystems. In most instances, these plants we are labeling, removing, and creating struggle with, have as much right to be there as the others. We want something beautiful or bountiful, creating monoculture or safe visuals that make sense to our experience of them. As Stewards of the earth, these spaces we create often serve no purpose to other living things. They do not support any other species in the ecosystem. Our manicured lawns, woodchipped shrubbery, or ornamental foliage only invite our discerning eyes and those who seek the same comfort from the sea of conformity. It feels like the time to adjust our eyes gaze. To see the beauty and value of ecosystems built to support and sustain all human life. Plants know how to thrive and can be planted with various other species in environments they continue to create and recreate for themselves.

I have spent a ridiculous amount of time and energy removing goutweed from amongst my echinacea and brown-eyed susans. Its light green leafy ground covering intertwines around the base of these plants’ new leaf shoots, creating a snow-covered mountain look to the garden bed as it covers the mulch placed there years before. Every spring I attempt to remove the plant. With each attempt, its resiliency becomes more palpable. There isn’t a time I don’t question my unbridled efforts, knowing how futile they are. I have begun resigning to the fact that this plant flourishes here and is not hurting the other plants, in fact as I removed the last sprig I would wrestle with this year, I realized it was creating the perfect protective covering for the delicate sweetness of wild strawberries. It seemed to be an offering or gift for getting curious and up close to see things, that do nothing more than share our space, differently. This small nugget of sweetness led me to question goutweed’s classification as a weed. I discovered that the young leaves of this plant are edible and that even though there is no good scientific evidence to support these uses, many claim it helps with rheumatoid arthritis, gout, hemorrhoids, and kidney stones. Added to soups and salads, goutweed is a good source of vitamins A and C, iron, manganese, copper, calcium, magnesium, potassium, and trace minerals such as boron. It also contains antioxidants. Once it is not good for eating, it produces inflorescences resembling Queen Anne’s lace blossoms, perfect for cut-flower bouquets.

Maya’s inclusive dance class will showcase their talents this weekend with a small performance for friends and family. She has been part of an eight-week class with students from 5 to 74. The class is instructed by Raoul who has found a home in Grand Bay after moving from Spain a couple of years ago. He invites them to explore movement and feeling that is accessible to all of the members. At first glance, it may seem that not all students are learning dance in the traditional forms. One may even go as far as to say it is not beneficial to some. I know when I go to watch their showcase it won’t be guaranteed that my adult autistic daughter will even move a muscle but she will appear rooted amongst the others, smiling her way into belonging. As my husband did, when he attended a class, someone may move with and adjust her body into connection with one or more other dancers, in a way that the three become two and the assistance will not register as they intertwine in their beauty and value. This small ecosystem of inclusive dance provides a glimmer of an inclusive society I continue to dream of. The actors, poets, dancers, mothers, sisters, and friends that diversify this space demonstrate the necessity for coming together, belonging, and thriving not as a cultivated monolithic garden but as an orchard of wild abandon where getting up close to discover the hidden gems of sweetness is essential and a gift. In this space, no one decides what a dancer should or shouldn’t be. They are not saying who is or isn’t allowed in the space, all are welcome. There is room for everyone to move and be moved. Not the space of token prom dates that see themselves dancing among the weeds but a committed group of individuals attempting to cultivate a different landscape as they grow a community where no one decides who or what is worthy of love, belonging, and taking up space. Together they are learning to get up close, to make space for different identities, and abilities. In this new landscape without social construct for exclusion, they find new ways to thrive, grow, change, and mature together. We have so much to learn but I am hopeful that we can appreciate people and plants in a way that we don’t run interference for them but rather continue to uncover the hidden gems just below the surface of our wild and capable landscapes.