Sensuality in the Garden and the Earthly Sexuality of Corn

It has been pointed out to us several times by several people that James Baldwin, though undoubtedly a great writer, essayist, poet, speaker, commentator and playwright - was not a gardener. He had a garden where he lived in St. Paul-de-Vence and while he most certainly enjoyed and relished in its beauty, he hired a gardener who watered and tended the plants. No where in his writing that I know of has he ever disclosed an ambition to garden or be a gardener. Nonetheless, I have found myself responding to those who have questioned naming an outdoor learning center in honor of James Baldwin that, if he were alive today during this time of unprecidented ecological peril when environmental disaster wreaks havoc especially among the poor and powerless, that he would approve of the James Baldwin Outdoor Learning Center and what we are attempting to achieve. In The Fire Next Time, Baldwin dwells on an aspect of experience that he found supressed in his day and that I feel is still only emerging in our own. He wrote, “To be sensual, I think, is to respect and rejoice in the force of life, of life itself, and to be present in all that one does, from the effort of loving to the breaking of bread.” I think most gardeners would agree that gardening, growing, watering and caring for and nurturing plants is a sensual practice in the way Baldwin describes. Hence my delight and joy in reading about corn in Robin Wall Kimmerer's beautiful and wise book Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants: "There is an earthly sexuality to a garden, and most of the students get drawn in to the revelation of fruit. I have them carefully open an ear of corn without disturbing the corn silk that plumes from the end. First the course outer husks are pulled away, then layer after layer of inner leaves, each thinner than the next until the last layer is exposed so thin and tightly pressed to the corn that the shape of the kerels show through it. As we draw aside the last layer, the sweet milky scent of corn rises from the exposed ear, rows upon rows of round yellow kernels. We look closely and follow an individual strand of corn silk. Outside the husk it is brown and curly, but inside it is colorless and crisply succulent, as if filled with water. Each little strand of silk connects a different kernel inside the husk to the world outside. A corncob is an ingenious sort of flower in which the silk is a greatly elongate flower pistil. One end of the silk waves in the breeze to collect pollen, while the other end attaches to the ovary. The silk is the water-filled conduit for sperm released from the pollen grains caught there. The corn sperm swim down the silken tube to the milky-white kernel - the ovary. Only when the corn kernels are so fertilized will they grow plump and yellow. A corncob is the mother of hundreds, as many children as there are kernels, each with potentially a different father. Is it any wonder she is called he Corn Mother?" Braiding Sweetgrass is filled with this kind of poetic description of plants and nature and is a book I would highly recommend to anyone seeking sensuality in nature and in gardens. It also reminds me of the pleasure that I receive from working in the garden, despite the heat, the sun, the sweat; I am happy to be one of James Baldwin's gardeners. And next time you bite into the luxuriously crisp sweetness, remember to enjoy the sensuality of this very generous flower we call corn.

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A New Era For JBOLC and Meg's Garden

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It is a new era for JBOLC and our gardening and our practice. As a concession to continue to be permitted use of the space on campus the entire front fence of Meg's Garden has been removed. After being unpermitted to garden there from March of 2021 to just this past month - it has been yet another awakening for sure. We knew full well that this was coming eventually - especially after there was an attempt to take down the fence during our Saturday market. However, imagine if what you felt was your protection for what you've been doing for the last 6 years has suddenly been removed. Kind of a naked feeling for sure. Not only are plants and trees exposed, but our market set up equipment, our seating and tables, childrens' learning materials - arts and crafts, paper, boards, everything now left to the good intentions of our neighbors to not steal or destroy. The timing of this removal means more work for us, more worry and concern and anxiety. My previous request for a postponement until after the growing and market season were completely ignored - not ever responded to. Having worked in these gardens and experienced needless destruction, time after time, I know enough that this is also about my own body's vulnerability. I feel it when the plants I have been caring for and observing as an expectant gardener are butchered. I have been writing like crazy because after all of the drama over this garden for over a year I need to let out my anger and disappointment in meaningful and constructive ways. I have experienced enough surprise attacks and threats on this garden for a lifetime, whether intentional or by default, it amounts to a kind of top down, hierarchical and abusive management protocol that places "cleanliness", order and ease of maintenance (ie. use of small gas engines presently banned in different parts of the country) above any concern for the actual natural ecosystems in place. I have witnessed, in this past month alone, two pollinator gardens - actual sites of citizen study - at the mercy of weedwackers and the men just doing their jobs wielding them like destroyers from another planet. As a career educator, I am appalled by this waste of opportunity. I have also seen our constructive and collaborative decision making and countless outdoor learning opportunities ignored or eliminated because of what's been decided by maintenance personnel and obnoxious administrators. And maybe this is all reaction on my part and people are merely acting out of ignorance (or what James Baldwin and others refer to as innocence) - but there is nothing more vicious to the environment than this kind of innocence or ignorance - and this is what I feel and care about. But the picture is not all that bleak either and it serves us no purpose, beyond stating our outrage, to dwell in our anger. The fact is that we have a garden back and, though we have real challenges, we can still operate as we have been with compassion for the earth and plants in our care and for our garden community. We can garden without fences! And we could address the unforeseen with inquiry, problem solving, collaboration and cooperation and truly make something new. We can continue to seed for a better and more just future. That's what JBOLC is all about. We're open to suggestions but sign making has already started.