...give attention to what you can revive...

The truth is- I have no idea what I’m doing. This applies to many things.

My first official day as a school teacher at a residential school, long before becoming a college professor, I remember there was an emergency- well, it was more a social emergency for a high school student whom I supposed thought she had gas and ended up defecating in her classroom chair. She had no idea what to do and the classroom was starting to smell, and her peers and I all noticed something was very wrong. That’s when she told me in front of everyone.

I remember it was mostly a classroom of boys and she was a girl. I still remember her name. That moment could have ended up being the worst social suicide of her life. Was she ill? Was there a medical issue that caused this? I don’t remember any of that. I remember being 25-years old, the classroom teacher, and thinking, “I need to call the teacher. This is serious,” only to remember, “Shit” [no pun intended], “I am the teacher.” That was the moment everything broke down. I realized that all my past teachers didn’t know what they were doing; my parents had no idea what they were doing when it came to parenting; adults had no idea how to be adults. We’re all just doing our best.  For this girl, I tried my best to handle the situation with dignity and grace, which included something like swearing everyone to secrecy. I don’t remember if the situation became a school rumor. I do remember that I personally broke a few school rules that day by taking her to the dorm where I wasn’t allowed and she wasn’t allowed during school hours but she needed to clean up and change clothing; and, I left the rest of the class unattended before returning to deal with the chair. Did I do the right thing? I still have no idea.

February 2020

I think about this day somewhat frequently because I have the distinct honor of teaching college English majors, some of whom will go on to become school teachers. When they ask me what was the worst day I ever had teaching, I don’t think of the D.C. Sniper attacks in 2002 when us high school teachers had to ride the school bus to basically be decoys to make sure our students were safe; I don’t think of the day I had to interpret the announcement over the loud speaker to a class of sixth graders when the Twin Towers collapsed. Instead, I think of this very first teaching day when I discovered that we’re all just doing our best.

February 2020

This isn’t a post about my profession though. This is the story of the Paphiopedilum Petula’s Sensation orchid that I bought in February 2019. For a year, it was a happy little orchid and it grew big. So big that I determined that it needed a bigger pot. Then, I became the worst orchid owner ever and replanted it in a not-at-all-approved pot but one that was available at the time. I didn’t realize that the slipper orchid would turn on me so quickly. Its roots rotted and by the time that I addressed the issue, it was maybe a fourth of the size of what it once was. I keep reading stories about how we were all so miserable in 2020 and our mental health was a complete disaster. I've always been a worrier and if I'm being honest, my mental health didn't cause this. I caused it. Caring for an orchid, or for any plant or animal or human, is about getting out of one's own head and considering another. I don't put too much stock in humanity. But I do believe in nature and if I try, I think I can revive this little plant. 

January 2021

I’m not an awful orchid owner. The Phal Haur Jin Princess (Phalaenopsis ), whom I call Blood-Kisses has bloomed over a half dozen times since I bought this beauty at the annual orchid show in February 2019, the same year I bought the slipper orchid. Even last year’s Bnfd. Gilded Tower 'Mystic Maze' orchid is so happy in its home that it just put up its first spike. Hopefully in a month or two, I will have blooms.

Bnfd. Gilded Tower 'Mystic Maze' orchid from 2020

Phal Haur Jin Princess (Phalaenopsis) currently in bloom with more expected

 

But the Paphiopedilum, I just want it to survive at this point. I don’t have the hopes it will bloom within the next five years but I would like it to thrive as much as possible. When it comes to other plants, I’m a good flora-necromancer. This one just takes patience and attention.