Of plants and students; a community conversation in the stairway

Grab yourself a cup of tea or hot chocolate, or coffee, if you insist. Find a comfortable seat and settle in. You’re about to read an epic, allegorical story of a plant and students. 

Rupert, 

the red pepper plant

It all started on a warm day back in May 2019. As I often do, that day I walked up the stairs from my office on the third floor of the Robert Bell Building at Ball State University to the Computer Science department office which is located on the fourth floor. As I got to the top of the stairs, I discovered a small clay pot with an even smaller plant in it sitting on the windowsill. Read on to find out what became of the plant, and what that has to do with students.

Rupert's birth

Not having any idea why there was a plant on the windowsill, or who placed it there, I decided to start a conversation via sticky-notes. I wrote a message and stuck it on the windowsill in front of the pot, and left a pad of sticky-notes and a pen laying on the windowsill. I soon had a response, so I continued the conversation, a transcription of which follows.

Me (M): Hello little plant. What are you going to be when you grow up?
Response (R): Big pepper.
M: What color?
R: Red!
M: Do you have a name you prefer to be called by?
R: Rupert!
M: Interesting name. Is there a story behind it?
R: Yes.

At this point, a third person (P) entered the conversation, providing what turned out to be rather prophetic advice. I’ve simply labeled the posts from all others as (P) from here on out.

P: Grow little plant grow!! Stay healthy.

Intrigued and amused by the exchange thus far, I continued the conversation.

M: What is the story?
R: I know a dog named Rupert (signed Rose, 7)
M: Rupert, is someone giving you the water you need?
R: Yes! I am being taken care of! Thank you for asking though!

Rupert's early life

By now, it’s June, and a few others entered the conversation. (The chronological sequence of these messages is not likely as listed.)

P: Dear Rupert, we are so happy you are growing. Enjoy the dead bug next to you.
P: You are a light in darkness.
P: I C U R still hangin in there Rupert!!
P: Plant a seed. Watch it grow by watering it and the sun from God up above. Plant called Lyfe, pronounced Life.
M: Rupert, congrats on your new leaves!
P: Grow for me!
M: I See you’ve grown a couple more leaves since I saw you last week!
P: Rupert hopes to grow up to be Seymore. Hopes to see everyone then.
P: I hope it’s not Audrey II.
P: Happy first day of summer, Rupert/Seymore!

Rupert made it through the excitement of Independence Day, and now had quite a few leaves. Lots of new messages had been left as well. A few of which were dated.

P: Rupert! You look lovely!
P: I hope you grow well.
P: Atta boi Rupert! I have no idea what you are but I’m excited to see you grow.
P: You’re my hero!
P: Rupert, you can do this! (Don’t die!)
P: Good to see you’re still with us Rupert!
P: Share the love!
P: Your pot needs rotated x1 per day or you will grow lopsided.
M: Rupert! It looks like you got thirsty. (07/16/2019)
P: One must imagine Sisyphus smiling.
P: Go plant go!
P: Be happy little plant.
P: Rupert, where do you see yourself in 5 years?
M: Rupert! It looks like you got thirsty. (07/26/2019)
P: Rupert, I love you and would die for you. You’re doing amazing buddy. Keep growing. (08/27/2019)

Rupert's demise

But then tragedy strikes during September 25-26, 2019.

P: WATER YOUR PLANT.
P: This bug has more life than me.
P: [F]
P: RIP
P: Why is the bug literally me?
P: We should take a lesson from this plant and realize that our relations need love and nurturing to grow!
P: RIP friend.
P: NO!
P: Poor plant.

Rupert's resurrection

 For whatever reason, no one chose to remove the leafless body of Rupert or the notes that had been left. And then suddenly—eight days later—there was new growth!

M: New growth!!!
P: I can get past being thirsty and I hope y’all can too.
P: You’re doing great sweetie!
P: We are cool.
P: Ah, ah, ah, ah, staying alive, staying alive.

Rupert gives birth?!?

So then my Mom and I decided to have a bit of fun. She provided me one of the red peppers she had grown in her garden, and I left it in the pot with a note on it.

M: So, this pepper showed up last night. I asked Rupert if it was his, but he wouldn’t respond, other than to say he hopes someone will take it and enjoy it. (10/07/2019)
P: Thanks Rupert. I loved the pepper. You are a cutie.
P: Rupert is like baby Groot!
P: Grow!! We watered you.
P: Hope you’re enjoying the new fall weather Rupert.
P: This note made possible by destroying Rupert’s parent tree. Thank you, deforestation.
P: I love plants. This made my day.
P: LIVE!!!
P: We be-leaf in ya.
P: Grow through what you go through little man.
P: I’ve only just met Rupert, and I am in love, I would do anything for Rupert. Rupert is everything.
P: I envy Rupert! He’s living the life I want to live! #inspiration
P: I love you Rupert!
P: Hang in there Rupert.
P: Dearly beloved Rupert. You’re doing amazing. We believe in you. We love you. We cherish you.
P: Grow on Rupert.
P You got dis!
P: I'm glad to see Rupert is coming back to LIFE!!!
P: Tuesday, Oct 29: I added some water since soil looked dry.

Rupert's year-end celebration

So, by now we’ve reached the end of 2019, and this thing has obviously taken on a life of its own, with relatively little input from me after the first few days.

P: Happy new year!!
P: Go little plant go.
P:  I gave Rupert some water. 12/27/19 –Janitor Joe.
P: Thank you Janitor Joe
P: Happy Holidays!
P: It’s been a roller coaster semester. First you were great, then you almost died, now you’re good again. Keep going Rupert.
P: Rupert!!! Juan was here.
P: Y’all crazy.
P: Thank you for being something I could look forward to seeing. Dec 5
P: Stay safe this winter, friend. May your caretaker take you home over break.
P: Go Head Rupert!!! Good to see you’re still here with us.
P: Photosynthesis
P: Let’s go, Plantboi!
P: My Rupert, nice to see you’re still doing well.
P: God making sure Rupert is OK.
P: Happy semester break everyone!!

Rupert starts a new semester

Fortunately, Rupert survived the break, and we continued into spring semester!

P: Who waters Rupert and how often? 1/8/2020
P: I have a class up here now MWF ending 1 PM, and I’ve started watering him after class. Not flooding it. 1/13/20.
P: Neat origami.
P: Keep on keeping on, Rupert.
P: Survive. You got this boyyyy.
P: I only came up to fourth floor to see Rupert.
P: Just keep growing. Just keep growing. Just keep growing growing growing.
P: Lydia and Ashlen love you.
P: Rupert can get this DUMPY!
P: This is my first time meeting Rupert… I am honored to be in the presence of such a legend… Love you Ru. Grow strong!
P: What it do Rupert?
P: Grow up!
P: Rupert, you were my first love. I fell for you like a child. You must live or I don’t think I will make it in this cruel world without you.
P: Rupert loves my SQL.
P: Watch BSU Tonight.
P: We are happy to see you are inspiring so many students. Keep growing big and strong.

Rupert's birthday

And today a large piece of paper appeared with an important announcement.

Save the date to celebrate! A big party for a resilient little plant. Rupert’s birthday is April 27th. Watch this space for more information coming soon.

After nine months, a simple conversation I started with an unknown person has expanded to include many more people. I’m guessing (based on handwriting) there have been a dozen or two different people who have participated in the conversation, and almost certainly many dozens more who have stopped for a moment and read the messages. A community of caring people has formed, although I have no idea who any of the other people are, and I suspect that is true for them as well. Yet we’ve all come together to nurture and encourage this one little plant, and dare I say, each other.

Is this about more than a plant?

So, what can we learn from this experience? What if we were to imagine that Rupert the red pepper plant was one of our students? Do we show as much care and concern for them? What if we don’t make the effort to help them to learn? Might they then shrivel up and withdraw, like Rupert?

How many times have we given up on a student that was too far behind to catch up, just wasn’t getting it, or was too needy? Once Rupert dropped all of his leaves, I suspect we all thought that was the end of the plant. Yet one of us decided to continue watering it. And a week later, new growth appeared. What if we keep working with those struggling students—who might have even given up on themselves—to help them through the tough parts of their days and lives, whether that be our course content, or helping them juggle priorities in their life. 

What if we involve others to help support the student as well, just like the community that has formed around Rupert. Then we can all celebrate the student’s success—completing an assignment, a course, a semester, or a degree—just like we’re going to celebrate Rupert’s birthday in a few weeks.

When asked what I do, I like to say that I strive to turn on light bulbs. By this I’m referring to those “ah ha” moments learners have when something suddenly makes sense. Maybe I also need to say that I strive to keep things adequately watered and nurtured.

How about you? What are you doing to nurture those with whom you come into contact?

Weird is Good!

Last August, I participated in our Freshmen Convocation, the university’s official first academic event for new first-year students at Ball State University. During the event, our President and Provost formally welcome the first-year students to campus and speak about the exciting year ahead. This being an academic event, faculty participate in this event--dressed in our academic regalia--by processing in and sitting on the stage during the event. There is also usually a guest speaker--an alumnus or faculty member--who is asked to deliver some inspiring words of wisdom. Last fall, that speaker was Maura Jasper, Associate Professor of Art, from the BSU School of Art.

Maura claimed that weird is good! Initially, that seemed like strange advice to give to a room full of first-year students who are likely trying to figure out how to fit in with everyone else. Yet, she was emphatic that weird is good.

Let's explore this a bit. Merriam-Webster offers this definition of "weird".

"of strange or extraordinary character"

It also offers this definition of "good".

"of a favorable character or tendency"

Thus, perhaps she was stating that strange or extraordinary is favorable. I can live with this! Anyone who knows me would likely not be surprised that I'd agree that weird is good.

One of the many statements Maura made that day has stuck with me. She said,

"If we're not exploring weird stuff, we're not learning. We already know the normal stuff."

And one of my favorite musicians, Frank Zappa, seems to agree:

"Without deviation from the norm, progress is not possible."

So, in an effort to establish how good I am, I've compiled a list of the ways others likely think I'm weird.

• my sense of humor
• my use of puns
• my "interesting" socks
• wearing socks with sandals
• wearing sandals with a suit
• wearing a suit and tie when it's not required
• my "interesting" ties
• wearing bow ties
• shoulder-length hair
• staying up late, and then getting up early
• enjoying music ranging from Bach to Zappa
• playing the tambourine in my high school marching band
• being a Boy Scout most all of my life
• power walking for exercise
• being a non-tenure line faculty member who researches and publishes
• utilizing flipped learning and specifications grading

I'm sure there are other items that I should add to my list. What do you think I've left off?

But more importantly, I want to hear about the good in you. How are you weird?

Smelling the roses…

I started work on my master’s degree in computer science in January of 2008. I don’t specifically remember, but I suspect it was cold outside, since I was in Muncie, Indiana. The temperature really doesn’t matter, since the point I’m leading up to is that the campus was quite void of growing and flowing plants at that time, or at least it seemed that way.

I had driven through campus on many occasions during the nearly thirty years I had lived in town, but seldom spent any amount of time walking on campus. Being a student meant that I got to do that now. When one walks, one has a bit more time to observe their surroundings. Having the time and actually doing it can be two different things, however. In January there didn’t seem to be much that was worth looking at. I found that changed a couple of months later as spring approached.

I quickly discovered the Ball State University grounds staff does a wonderful job of maintaining a myriad of flower beds and other plantings all over the campus. They swap flowers in and out of many of these beds multiple times throughout the growing season. Early in the spring, and late in the fall, they put in hardy flowers that can withstand cold temperatures. In the midst of the summer you’ll find they’ve placed heat-tolerant flowers in the same beds. If one is a bit observant, one can find something new to look at from month to month as the seasons progresses.

But I found that one of my favorite flowers had been present the whole time—even back in January when I started classes—I just hadn’t taken time to notice them. As spring brought warmth, the dead-looking stems of the campus’ many rose bushes started to break forth in green leaves. It wasn’t too long after that the innumerable red blooms started to appear. Seeing something that appeared dead spring back to a vibrant life was wonderful.

Upon a bit of reflection I realized that the rose bushes were not unlike myself. I had just come through a fall of unemployment and searching for what I was going to do with my life. In the winter I started down a new, somewhat unfamiliar path. But by the time spring was approaching, I was warming up to the thought of teaching in higher education. Perhaps I was starting to bloom as well.

Ever since that spring I’ve done something that I’ve not noticed anyone else on campus do. When I’m out walking from one part of campus to another, at some point on my walk I’ll take time to stop to smell one of the rose blooms. I believe it’s important to do that, as we don’t know for sure what tomorrow—or even later today—may bring. I want to remind myself that I need to take time to enjoy what is around me now, for the winter is coming, and this might be the last rose bloom I get to enjoy on campus for a while.

But is that really a concern when you can have students blooming around you all the time?

Ten years after having a dark storm cloud arrive on my scene

Storm clouds often arrive and darken the landscape. Some pass through quickly, while others seem to linger forever. Rather than focusing on the darkness, the old adage goes, you need to look for the silver lining. A dark storm cloud arrived on my horizon ten years ago this morning, seemingly with no silver lining.

At roughly 7:30 AM on Wednesday, October 3, 2007, my world was turned upside down, or at least turned sideways. It was then that I was invited into the company president's office and told that my position was being eliminated, and my services would no longer be required by the company, effective immediately. I was not a terribly happy camper at this point. In hindsight, I should have seen it coming, but I had not been looking for it, so it came as a surprise. A surprise for which I was not prepared.

To put this into perspective, I had worked for this company since July 1, 1979--nearly three decades. To further put this in perspective, except for a couple high school jobs, this position was my first and only professional job for which I had ever interviewed. For the next three months, I learned what it meant to be unemployed, and daily looking for work.

The many job applications led to a few interviews, but either the companies weren't interested in me, or I wasn't interested in the position, after learning more about it. One week led to another, and I found myself waking up early on a Wednesday morning between Christmas and New Years, and not being able to go back to sleep.

For years, I had thought about earning a master's degree, but never acted on it.  After three months, and still not having a paying position, the prospect of returning to school came to the forefront. Early on that Wednesday morning, I filled out the online application for graduate school at Ball State University (BSU), and waited to push the submit button. Around 7:30 AM my wife arose and I asked her what she thought of me applying. After a brief conversation, we agreed that we'd make it work, and figure out how to pay for it somehow. I pushed the submit button, not really knowing what was coming next.

By 10:30 that Wednesday morning, I had an email from the BSU Computer Science Department chair indicating that if I could complete the graduate school application process by the end of the day Friday (classes started the next Monday!), he had an empty graduate assistantship he could offer me. A big part of the "how will we pay for this" question was just answered. At 5:15 PM on Friday, the last pieces fell into place, and I was officially a graduate student.

Officially a graduate student, and being ready for classes to start Monday are two different things.  Monday morning I met with a faculty member to figure out in what classes I should enroll. Having worked in industry for nearly thirty years meant that, although I had continued to learn, the current state of computer science had moved quicker than I had. I had a bit of catching up to do, to have the same knowledge as students graduating with a bachelor's degree. They were using computer programming languages that didn't even exist when I graduated with my Bachelor's degree in 1979. Soon, that all got sorted out, I registered for classes, and thus started my graduate school journey.

Jumping ahead in the story a bit, in May 2010, I graduated from BSU with a Master's of Science degree in Computer Science. Oh, I jumped a bit too far... A few month's before, a new contract faculty position in the BSU Computer Science Department was posted. I applied, and was selected to fill this position, starting in the fall of 2010. I was officially a college professor, and have been since!

So where has my journey taken me? The answer includes a lot of places I may not have traveled were it not for my dark storm cloud arriving ten years ago. I have physically traveled to Denmark, England, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales, and a variety of USA cities. I have presented papers internationally and locally. I have been published in journals and books. But one of the biggest journeys on which I have embarked since graduating in 2010, and the one which has brought me so much joy and satisfaction, is having the privilege of helping thousands of college students further their knowledge of computer science, themselves, and the world.

I think I have found the silver lining.