Herb-in Beautification
Community- & cucumber-building stump speech
We had a stump. In our recently heavily invested-in historic-downtown arts district, with expanded sidewalks, patterned stonework, rounded curbs, zero-scaped monsoon-grade storm gullies, with newly commissioned sculptures, and hipster alley murals for blocks in all directions — we had a stump. Cooler than pavement and nature made. But dead now and attracting weeds. We asked the City to pull it. And got a good deal of support. But in the end, they decided against it; roots and pipes. Engineers were firm in the view. Officials had higher-priorities to see to. As one might hope, really.
So, we took matters and manure in our own hands and built an herb and vegetable garden up over the stump: let it rot. Up to the city to pull or not to pull the stump, but on us, if we opt to live with it and do nothing but complain and pout about it.
Tie-ins to midterm elections, ‘permission thinking,’ and our civic duty — to one another, American ingenuity, and revolutionary thinking — follow.
Isn’t that vandalism?
Technically, yeah, we may be guilty of a few things: 1) Building without a permit, 2) Destruction of public property, as the stump belongs to the city and is now decomposing. Not to mention 3) Dumping yards of soil and manure on city-owned land. However, we think that under the Homestead Act we may now have a claim to ownership, as we improved the land, and so could ask for rent back from the City. We see it as a push.
And by that we mean to thank the City of Lafayette for all they’ve done to improve downtown, including looking the other way or not unkindly on our guerrilla gardening project.
With luck, the future value of the enriched soil, when harvested, and our organic stump-removal efforts, can be seen to cover all fines.
What’s in the box?
Food for thought and reasons for coming together, in the form of: Pinot Noir Bell Peppers (so good!); Jalapeño ‘Snacking’ Peppers (super bien!); four kinds of Tomatoes (including heriloom cherry and beefsteak); Cucumber; Zucchini; three kinds of Basil; Cilantro; Peppermint; Cinnamon Mint (yeah, weird, right? but delicious!); Greek Rosemary; German Oregano; border flowers, and an African Daisy on top.
Who’s to thank?
Neighbors, landlords, shop owners, workers, and renters (voters and non-voters, democrats, republicans, and independents) all worked on the box and now are tending and enjoying the garden.
The design grew organically, which is to say that we had no idea what we were doing, and we made it up as we went along, relying on comments of all who passed by. Lowe’s helped us fill the planter with yards of Organic Raised Bed soil, flowers, and Bonnie Plants’ vegetables and herbs (part of the Alabama Farmers Cooperative). The garden-center gang at Lowe’s on South Street truly went the extra mile for us; so, I encourage others to go the extra mile to visit them; say thanks in person. Thanks to all involved!
Funny thing happened, on the way to cucumbers…
One bump-in-the-road, worth noting: When the decision came back that we wouldn’t pull the stump — the City had higher priorities, for now — some of “us” were ready, and it seemed eager, to square off with, blame, and cast aspersions on “them,” dropping precipitously into pouting and complaining about our government and city officials, saying in a word: “Figures!” Even after we hit on the idea of building a planter, some persisted: “Oh, ‘they’d’ never go for that,” and, “Good luck! ‘They’ll’ shut you down!” Now ‘borrowing trouble’ or clinging to an imagined grievance — and an imagined need to ask permission — while passionately rallying support for their inertial “us” and “them” reaction. … Immediate gratification unmet: enmity felt, and enemy born — yours, mine, and ours.
Such name calling, finger-pointing and pouting is universally disenfranchising for us Americans, as the unique power and unique responsibility of our form of government rests in our adherence to the mindset of We. “We” got quickly beyond this inertial reaction by looking past the stump that divided us, to the shared goal that united us — improving our lot. We made things happen in line with our goal. All happily snacking on peppers now.
Un-American, unproductive: “us(s)” and “them(s)”
We see a lot of “us” and “them” thinking, action-taking, inaction-excusing, and less-than-harvestable or -productive mudslinging, in America these days. We can’t win, don’t try; stay home and complain about gub’ment (non-voters). We can win, but “they” are to blame when we don’t, and so we must undermine “them” and overcome “them” to get anywhere (Republicans and Democrats) — rolling us back and forth across the politico divide and contributing to and/or creating the lack of progress “they” each complain about.
There is nothing which I dread so much as a division of the republic into two great parties, each arranged under its leader, and concerting measures in opposition to each other. This, in my humble apprehension, is to be dreaded as the greatest political evil under our Constitution.
— John Adams, Letter to Jonathan Jackson (2 October 1780), “The Works of John Adams”, vol 9, p.511
Colonialists divide and conquer. Peasants make kings: i.e., they divide themselves and attack one another. Revolutionaries unite and lead.
Which would we be?
A recent book discusses political tribes in America, POLITICAL TRIBES: GROUP INSTINCT AND THE FATE OF NATIONS, by Amy Chua (Penguin, 2018). An article by Andrew Sullivan does as well: AMERICA WASN’T BUILT FOR HUMANS Tribalism was an urge our Founding Fathers assumed we could overcome. And so it has become our greatest vulnerability, (New York Magazine, 9/18/2017). Both: Highly recommended. Chua and Sullivan underscore the threat tribes and tribalism pose and the increasing need we have to overcome our primal tribal tendencies to auto-subdivide — to square off against ourselves and to allow ourselves to be divided.
Divided, we vote | United, we govern
Adams saw our political parties similarly: as a threat to our freedoms and to our duty to one another to protect those freedoms. As a threat to our form of government: dividing and conquering us. More the thing we rebelled against than the thing we sought to create. That their needs, of battling one another, might get ahead of our own needs — of getting things done. E.g., that a once- and all-too-briefly-free people might come to think along party lines. “I think <insert platform talking point or tribal-issue-slogan, here>.” If we could ever imagine such a thing happening, a form of ‘permission thinking’ might eclipse revolutionary-American thinking, the body politic might willingly submit to serve party politics — as serfs serving one of two feudal lords — and the American experiment in self-government would soundlessly end.
If you don’t know where you’re going, you might end up someplace else.
— Yogi Barra
Good to remember year-round and especially during the upcoming midterms that just because we have something to complain about, it doesn’t mean that all we have is a complaint to level, discontent to dwell on, and other likeminded souls to find and fester and spoil for a fight with — against other similarly self-sequestering and -festering souls. We have a choice and a chance to come together to make change happen.
In concert with notes struck in Chua’s epilogue…
Often, in such incidental neighborly action-taking as planting an urban garden or in passing conversations at mailboxes and in watering holes, bookstores, and cafes, we find more to unite than divide. Perhaps in these moments, out from other contexts, and out from under other banners and bulwarks, we are best reminded that “They” and “Them” rightly understood are “We the People.” And insofar as we keep involved in one another’s lives, keep thinking, talking, and electing to work together, as often as we can — whenever we can and wherever we can — reminding one another of our shared goals and our responsibilities to unite and lead, rather than merely electing others to fight with one another in our name, we can and will improve our lots (both parking and collective).
Construction-to-harvest time lapse slideshow, here. We came together and framed it in late 2017. Completed and planted it in the spring, 2018. With first harvests and post- or para-decomposing-stump conversations running through summer and into the fall.
