Becky With The Good Plants

In case you missed it, “reparation plants” are a thing.

Look, I don’t know exactly how, or why, in their quest to solve America’s systemic racism white people decided that giving Black people free plants should be a priority.

Do they think we don’t know about nurseries?

Live too far from Lowe’s?

Don’t see them at Trader Joe’s every weekend?

I don’t know. So, when a friend mentioned an obscure Instagram group doing just this, I said, “sure, why not?” It’s not like it is the weirdest thing I have ever done.

It was the weirdest thing I have ever done.

Fast-forward two weeks after posting “in Los Angeles looking for all plants,” I was driving downtown, to meet who I hoped was the person in their profile, to get a plant.

What plant? No clue. In hindsight I could’ve just asked, but this is my first reparation deal, so the rules of engagement were a little unclear.

Then why would I even waste the gas to go? Because, like most people during the Rona, I have increased my plant collection from two indoor plants to a garden. All bets are off these days, so why not meet a potential serial killer to feed my foliage addiction.

Rebecca, fortunately, did not give me Criminal Minds vibes. As awkward and nervous as I was, she cheerfully handed me the most divine lavender and baby succulent. Seeing as the lavender I planted in March never made it passed the weeds, it felt like a sign. It was the moment it went from weird to wonder.

But why was she here? Who signs up to give away green currency? Well, I asked her.

What made you participate?

A dear friend of mine retweeted the original “If you are a white person, give a Black person a plant NOW” tweet, and I was immediately interested.
I love plants; I adore trees; I know that far too many Black Americans do not have access to nature or feel/are unsafe when hiking or going to national parks, so the idea of being able to give a lovely, living, green thing to a person who has likely been systematically prevented from enjoying nature made me eager to volunteer. It wasn’t even a question of whether I would or not, honestly.

What did you expect?

I loved that we actually got to chat—I fully expected to just quietly drop off your plant babies on a front doorstep—it’s always a little weird to meet internet strangers, and I am so grateful that you took the risk to meet me in person. I cannot tell you how glad I am for that.

What was your biggest takeaway from the experience?

My biggest takeaway, I think, is the idea of imagining something different and better. We (referring here to white people, primarily) get so caught up in what we “know” that creatively approaching something like reparations gets bogged down in mere dollar signs (which is still important, and matters!) and entrenched racism, instead of "imagining something better.” You know?
I love the creativity that surrounds the Underground Plant Trade and movements like it. I’ve contributed to funds for mental health for BIPOC in my community, and I look for opportunities like these to do what I can to change this story. I want to imagine a better world. We are capable of it, and if giving plant babies to Black people in my community is one small way to do that; to represent the larger work of voting and calling representatives and getting laws changed and passed, I am thrilled to be a part of it.

Yes, I wanted a free plant. And yes, maybe she wanted to ease some of her white guilt by giving it to me. But as we stood in the Office Depot parking lot, six feet apart, with our masks on, something more than just an exchange was happening. We both were granted a rare moment to blindly connect with the other side to talk, listen, and begin to heal.

No need to tell me “we are all one side” or whatever unity platitude just crossed your mind. I’m Black, she’s white. Those are our sides. If we have learned nothing over these last few months it is not only are there definitely sides, but denying those sides are a part of the problem. So even if they often meet, cross, or combine along the way, recognizing and communicating with people across all these lines isn’t something we should gloss over or try to redefine.

I didn’t need to meet her to talk to a white person, I have plenty in my life. She didn’t need to meet me to learn what Black people are feeling. There are an abundance of op-eds, studies, books and documentaries that can give her way more information than I could in the few moments of our conversation.

But we did, and I think we are both a little better for it.

This wasn’t about saving the world; this was about putting a face and a name to who is fighting alongside you.

But this wasn’t just about plants; it was a peace offering that has built a bridge between us. I won’t be seeking any additional reparation plants, this experience was enough. But if that’s your jam, I hope you meet a Rebecca, and that you walk away with more than just lavender.

This conversation, and our continued connection, solidified an initiative that I have been working on in the last few weeks, it is called Mission: Accomplice. It will be a weekly email detailing various social action initiatives and campaigns to participate in. I’m not reinventing the wheel, I’m bringing it directly to your inbox. It can be hard to keep track of what is going on, or know which causes are just, this will take the guesswork out of your activism and unify the many causes we care about.

I always knew I would change the world, but I now understand I will need help to do so. Click link below to be a part of the movement.