Green Belt Project

As part of my training at green belt for the "second time", I was assigned to grow a plant from a seed. Now--I am not a plant person. Animals of all shapes and sizes--you bet--I'll care for them. But I've never been called to care for plants. I'll do it, but have not felt the reward that so many gardeners describe. To me, it does not compare to a tail wag.

But, I thought this sounded fun and roped Erica in on the project as she actually seems to like this stuff (I did not make her do any work, but just got her watching and interested). Things went pretty well for a while, but the plants did not make it past the cotyledon stage. Through the process I was thinking about how growing a plant was a lot like teaching students.

Below are some reflections on that.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Intermediate Martial Arts Teacher; Novice Gardener.
Lessons learned from seed to sprout.

An Internet search, a Northwest seed company, a decision made. Blue Primrose. Delivered via US mail. White seed packet. Yellow envelope. Green and blue plant. A lesson plan.

Seeds, full of promise. Germinate in a cool room. A bed of soil, water, daily checks. Line up your class, show them where to stand. Help them tie their belts, then step back.

For a while, no change. Only dirt is visible. Their side kicks and round kicks look identical. "No...the OTHER left foot". You worry you are not getting through.

Then, one sprouts. Finally, someone gets it. You watch the growth. Cheering on each millimeter of growth; each small change.

A room with a window. Southern exposure. I think they’ll like that!

A few others emerge. Yippee! Now things are really moving. You have a group gaining strength and beauty.

One seedling has a hard time pushing through the soil. Should I help move the dirt? No, that correction was too much. The seedling was knocked down. You might lose that one. You wish lessons learned were not sometimes at the expense of those under your care.

Too much water. You risk overwhelming. You realize that sometimes less instruction is better. They have to do some on their own. Look for the spot to move in at just the right time and only give what they can absorb.

They have tiny leaves and are reaching for the light, but now the growth is slowing. There is not enough energy as the days are short. A full spectrum light and a heating pad. A good class for the teacher; a chat with a colleague for ideas. Now they seem happy. A few late bloomers even start sprouting.

The seedling that emerged first is now bent over. You suspect the roots are not deep enough. Was the soil not right? Was there too much pressure on your "star student"? Can it be corrected?

Ultimately, the group stops progressing and they all move on. Thankfully, this teacher has never lost a whole group of students in a similar way, but it is easy to see how it could happen. Teaching, training and gardening all require the right set up, some inherent potential and the right combination of active intervention and letting go. Watching those under your care wither is hard. Experiencing stagnation as a student or teacher may lead one back to the beginning.

One more time.