From Where I Stand — As we wrap up our second month in quaran-
tine, it seems like all of us are changing to adapt to our new reality. In those first 30 days, we felt like toddlers. Sure, we were scared by a lot, but we approached our days with childlike wonder. We revisited pet projects and explored new hobbies. After work, we inched out of our homes for nightly walks maintaining wide, silent distances between those we passed by. We spent our night’s e-learning about this new virus seeing what new research or development could stop COVID-19 in its tracks. We explored our hidden potential, set goals, reembraced our families, and made the best of a world with brand new boundaries and rules. If the first 30 days were childhood, the next 30 days were adolescence. We got restless, cranky, and withdrawn. We wanted to sleep until noon and go out cruising with our friends. We procrastinated on our pet projects. We took chances like inching our driveway lawn chairs closer to our neighbors for those Friday night beers. New information on COVID-19 was met with, “Whatever, just tell me when it’s over.” In Illinois, we saw our friends in Georgia and Texas and Wisconsin and whined, “C’mon, their parents are letting them hangout with their friends!” Only to have our leadership reply, “Well, I’m not Wisconsin’s mother! If that’s how they do things in their family, maybe you should go live with them!” We folded our arms and stormed-off deep down knowing they loved us and only wanted to keep us safe. The mood on social media and around the country changed to. The first 30 days we used social media to reconnect virtually where we could not be physically. It became a vital lifeline to feel close to each other while miles or even 6’ apart. However, the old demons began to creep back in. Sadly, we saw the same arguments, charlatans, misinformation, and trench warfare that cause so many of us to despise our virtual community. The usual battle lines got drawn in the ongoing political and culture wars that we are letting define us in this country. I am hoping the next 30 days bring a sense of maturity and wisdom. It is time for all of us to grow up a little in this new reality. About one third of all attendees at iLandscape purchase the more expensive education pass. The ILCA Education Committee requests a substantial budget annually and we gather the best minds, authors, and experts in the horticulture and landscape communities. I put the ILCA’s annual educational program up against any in the country for its breadth and depth. The Education Committee reads, analyzes, and mines thousands of session evaluation forms for nuggets on how to improve the next program and with whom. They attend conferences of their own and read countless books, white papers, and blogs to find speakers with the perfect balance of expertise, practical knowledge, and presentation skills. The proof is in the pudding. Every year, the education attendance numbers have grown. We feel that the iLandscape program makes the landscape industry better. It perfectly matches the passions of lifelong learners who understand that even with decades of past experience, there is always room for more knowledge, wisdom, and paradigmshifting. Now, let’s imagine we treated the iLandscape educational programs like how we argue about politics. Imagine if we announced we had one of the leading experts on horticulture in our field as the keynote speaker. We billed this person as having all the answers to all of your most
pertinent landscaping, lawn care, and horticulture issues. Then we drew back the curtain and revealed a politician or a talk show talking head or an AM radio DJ. The audience would be in shock. Immediately, we’d say, “What! This person doesn’t know anything about landscaping and horticulture. Where is the expert you promised?” Let’s take it a step further, instead of having our usual book seller offering volumes of books on landscaping, horticulture, and plants we lined up guys who made Facebook memes and sketchy YouTube videos in their apartments. We asked our attendees to line up to have their favorite 10-word meme signed by some guy who’s never been in a greenhouse or picked up a shovel. Our most popular sessions at iLandscape are the ones where landscape professionals stand on a stage and come clean about their mistakes. They detail all the times they approached a problem completely wrong and gleaned essential wisdom from the failed outcome. They offer humility and laugh about their errors because it became a teachable moment in their quest to become a better professional. No audience wants someone to arrogantly stand in front of them and say they should be listened to because they’re never wrong and never make mistakes. We’d roll our eyes and say, “Next.” Our iLandscape audience would never accept this. Our program would be a laughingstock. Our numbers would plummet. We’d fail at our mission to provide education that improves the lives and livelihood of landscape professionals. Our commitment to knowledge is not just limited to our jobs. If anyone has ever shared a beer with the Breier family of National Seed (and who hasn’t) the conversation always turns to sports. We list the top 5 best quarterbacks or the best NBA starting lineups of all time. We all have intense and unbreakable sports loyalties, yet sports arguments rarely devolve into cross-eyed shouting matches. Sports fans pride ourselves on our knowledge, but we can have spirited discussions without raised blood pressure or feelings getting hurt. We disagree like adults and we aren’t silly enough to think our point of view is the only point of view that matters. In most every other walk of life, we acknowledge ignorance and embrace knowledge. Look at our hobbies. Cooks share recipes and techniques. Musicians noodle and riff. Fitness enthusiasts share workout routines and song playlists. Pet lovers discuss training methods and accept a melting pot breeds. Look at the wisdom we receive from our grandparents and senior citizens who look back at their one and only life where each regret serves as a stepping stone to every triumph. Yet politics is that one blind spot where it all goes out the window. Maybe I was naive to think COVID-19 would bring out the best in America. We’d realize how silly and trivial political differences are against an enemy that doesn’t care about borders, religion, gender, or politics. In addition, I ever expected a political dogfight on an issue where every single person wants the exact same outcome - for this disease to be quickly eradicated, with little loss of life, so we can rebuild our economy and relationships again. When we find ourselves searching for disagreement on an issue where everyone universally agrees - we aren’t being true to our ideals - we are just bored siblings in the back of a car looking for something to fight about. I’m sorry, but there is just too much on the line to act like bored adolescents. We cannot let our ideologies get bigger than our brains.
The Maturation Process
The Landscape Contractor June 2020
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