Plants
Each morning, I wake up in my jungle. It isn’t a tropical rainforest filled with spiders and bizarre scents; it’s my room, filled with dozens of houseplants. Years ago, when my jungle consisted of only one golden pothos, I fussed over how often I watered it and how much light it got. However, with time, I learned to trust myself to care for plants, and steadily my jungle expanded to every surface in my room and beyond.
A few months ago, I welcomed a jade plant to my jungle. Low water, bright light. Jade plants often can be finicky, but my succulent took a risk and started growing, disregarding the potential risks. At the time that I got this plant, I was taking my own risk. For the first (and only) time, I skipped class and lost credit to participate in a climate strike, where I called politicians to ask them to focus on green policies. To add to the thrill of skipping class and the satisfaction of being part of something meaningful, I was given something for making so many calls — my new jade plant. I learned that when I take risks, even with consequences, I gain experiences that can’t be taught in a classroom and feel myself growing, just like my jade plant. With the assurance that I can make it through any situation I find myself in, I trust myself to take risks.
A few years ago, a small fern lived on my bookshelf. Medium water, low light. After I got it, I watched as the leaves wilted and browned; no matter how I nurtured it, this plant didn’t survive. I continued to care for my jungle, and soon I welcomed a new fern, using what I learned to help it thrive. A few years ago, I took a risk and volunteered to run a fundraiser for my club. I was prepared for everything — at least I thought I was. Like I watched my fern wither, I watched my fundraiser sell out far too early. I took accountability for its short-comings, and I learned. Now I not only organize seven fundraisers a year, but I lead the same club. When I acknowledged my mistakes and rectified them, I learned that trusting myself and practicing accountability are the most worthwhile risks I can take to help my community.
Knowing that taking risks in a community can work out well, I added an air plant. Low water, bright light. Tillandsia grow best in the company of other plants, using their neighbors’ humidity to thrive. Similarly, I benefit from the support and knowledge of my community. After my first day at robotics, I walked out certain that robotics wasn’t for me, but I kept at it. I researched some things on my own, but it was the help of my teammates that drew me in fully. They taught me the basics and supported me as I learned, and in return I coded a system that got us to the state competition for the first time in school history. Now, I see how the interdependence that kept me coming to robotics is what holds my team together, and I’m glad to now be the neighboring plant that supports the new air plants, knowing that they’ll be the ones to keep us together.
Every experience I’ve had, down to the simplest moment of bringing my first plant into my room, has shaped my perspectives on the world and how I see my place in it. The plants in my jungle remind me of how I’ve grown to trust myself, take risks, practice accountability, and keep growing. When I move to college, I’m excited to see which new plants I’ll add to my jungle and which new lessons will help me grow alongside them.