Wednesday, September 25, 2013

(A musing on cutting up an apple today - hol ha'moed Sukkot, Hoshana Rabba - the seventh day of Sukkot)

In my "day job," I deal with people who know a lot about fruit trees.

In particular, they tell me that apple trees cannot be grown from seed. It is not that the seeds won't germinate. They may. It is rather that apple seeds are so complex, they won't grow "true to type". That is, they will not create a tree with the kind of apples the seeds came from. They will create something unpredictable. And, if not  exactly inedible, something that is likely undesirable.

Instead, all the apple trees you buy from stores and growers are created by grafting. That is, growers take a graft, a "scion", from a tree whose fruit they desire and graft it onto the sturdy "root stock" of another tree. That way, they know exactly what kind of tree they are getting and what kind of fruit those trees will produce.

That is no doubt good when you have to run a business, and have to reliably feed the world.

Still, I can't help but feel that we are missing something here. While 99 apple trees planted from seed may prove disappointing, that next tree may be a true winner.

Which teaches me several things.

What, we may ask, makes a tree desirable? Perhaps the trees that are "undesirable" to us for eating are the perfect food and shelter for local wildlife. Or perhaps they are the trees that will give rise to the next generation of trees that will give rise to the next generation of trees that will create the next irresistible apple, or produce the essence of the next breakthrough medicine. What is it, therefore, that we lose when we insist on loading the world's dice with past successes only? And successes defined in limited ways? What do we lose when we don't gamble on the extraordinary, if serendipitous, gifts that nature alone can produce?

While people who earn their living from orchards that feed the world cannot make this gamble, we can. In our front yards and back yards and school yards. In those otherwise wasted in-between spaces or sterile landscapes that may look nice (or not) but do not add to the health of our land. So along with the fruit trees we buy from the growers (I am not suggesting we turn away from these), perhaps we can add a few we grow from the seeds and pits we ordinarily throw away.

But this makes me wonder too about the effect this tradition of grafting has on our spirit, and our daring, and the ways of tomorrow. What happens when we choose only to invest in the best of yesterday?

This is a question funders and businessfolk and teachers and we continually need to ask, especially when we have a responsibility to maximize the beneficial outcomes of our time and investments.

But how does this play out, for example, when we think about teaching our children today? True, there are some things that are non-negotiable: civility, respect, manners, gratitude. But what is the price we pay if we preferentially teach to tests focusing on the knowledge, methods and expectations of the past? What gems might we be destroying, and missing?

Even more, I fear we sometimes overlook, throw away or otherwise undervalue the kids who are more like seeds than scions.

We need the tried-and-true to get us through today. But we need the daring and unknown to get us through tomorrow. While balancing the two is one of life's greatest challenges, it can also be one of life's greatest joys, and rewards.

Chag sameah - may you have a wonderful end of Sukkot.

And one last wish for a shana tova - and a good new year.