I’ve been an MG for ten years. The thought struck me at a quiet moment in the garden while mindlessly weeding (thank God it's so addictive) and simultaneously doing the math on how many hours I’ve spent in the grip of this passion, even one discovered so late in life.
At the ripe young age of thirty-six, a revelation that I could end up doing the same job at UBC for the rest of my working life caused a bit of panic. I spent three days researching every college catalogue in the library for the next venture and decided on the Horticulture Technology Program at Kwantlen College. I had dabbled in growing things but never had the space to really do much. My grandad introduced me to my first nest of robin's eggs in a fruit tree and ripe strawberries off the vine in England when I was eight and I guess it made an impression that was reignited.
It was March of 1993. Upon discovering the entry requirements, I had five months to get all in order so that I could quit work, rearrange my life and become a student. That included getting enough Chemistry absorbed to pass the entry exams having never taken Chemistry in my life. I spent the summer buried in my nephew’s Grade 10 Chemistry books and only by the luck of what little Irish I have in my family (thank you Grandad), and the grace of God, I made it through.
Three years later (having stayed for a second program) I had a great working knowledge of a booming industry but little practical gardening experience.
Broke, living on credit cards and the remainder of student loans, I made the final leap of faith to Vancouver Island where a small piece of property awaited. The intention was to make a living there instead of in the madness of the city.
Living and working in nurseries on the Island was a rude awakening for my horticultural life. We were labour, cheap labour at that, and expendable. But I learned so much answering the multitude of questions posed on every conceivable topic. At the end of a day in retail I spent as much time as I had in college with my head in a book researching more information.
Living on less income was much easier in the comfort of doing something I loved instead of working solely for a paycheck. So when an ad for the Master Gardener program found its way to my desk I knew it was for me.
Credit cards were my saviour again as I quickly organized the complicated logistics of registering and getting over to the mainland every week, a task made easier because my mother still lived in White Rock. Another student, kindly collected me from the corner each Tuesday morning at seven in front of my mother’s home and drove me to class. I reveled in the wealth of knowledge, my mother was delighted to see me weekly, and the two hour ferry rides each way afforded time for homework and study. Life was good.
Fitting in the volunteer hours required over the next two years was a challenge but I was very grateful to receive my official Master Gardener volunteer badge. I felt accomplished, confident in my knowledge, but still had a taste for more. Several years later I did it all over again for the Advanced Program: more good people, a Vancouver MG Susan Lazar billeting me and driving me to class each time. More adventures through strikes, snow storms and ferry holdups, but sadly life got in the way and two electives await.
Since then another program, the Organic Master Gardener, offered through Gaia College here on the island, came along and partly out of a quest for knowledge but mostly out of curiosity, I signed up. The two courses couldn’t be more different. Opposite in almost every way. Less teaching time, no volunteer hours to do, no pre-requisite knowledge required and much of the info online for you to access as needed or desired. But another wealth of information, from a purist point of view, on soils, effective microorganisms, amendments, water uptake and composting.
Malcolm Gladwell in his book Outliers says anyone who has done 10,000 hours of anything is considered an expert. Including college, even the reduced hours of working at garden centres, and now with full time work at Milner Gardens, I am already so far beyond the ten thousand hours it’s alarming. However, I certainly do not feel an expert as unfamiliar topics are myriad! Still, it is a huge comfort.
It can be an ice breaker too. On being introduced as an MG to a gentleman from the States, he was quick to point out he too was an MG. We had a grand discussion of the differences between his program and ours. They are associated with a university, we, typically, a garden. They advise through a well funded Extension service, and are much larger than we are, although their funding security may indeed be changing now. We, in small groups, carry out many varied services, and are not as well funded. Either way we were immediate compadres with a similar interest and a common thread to our lives. Always the basis to strike up a friendly conversation.
The overall meaning of what it is to be a Master Gardener remains universal: the camaraderie, the pursuit of knowledge, the sharing of ideas, plants and so much more, the quest to be better at whatever gardening task is upon us, and the will to inform and teach, mentor and stand office, to give willingly of our time and effort to help others take the step that we once took, into the world of soil and leaf.
Ten years: a lifetime or a blink. Good times. Here’s to ten more. Bring it on.
Author: Kim Hammond, Master Gardener, VIMGA
