Jeremography, Part II

Editor's Note: This is the second part in a series aimed at shedding some light on AYT's newest blogger, Jeremy.

In its wisdom, the state of Florida required undergraduates to take at least six hours of science instruction at its universities.

Scanning the University of Florida student catalog, I found a course that seemed easy enough. Plant identification, it was called.

My mom was an avid gardener who had managed against long odds to instill in her son an enduring fascination in all things green. I was sure I could identify some plants.

“What’s that?” the professor would ask.

“An orange tree,” I would reply.

If only it were so easy. In actuality, the course involved memorizing long lists of plants, their generic and Latin species names and their Latin family names. And you’d have to know what you were looking at on sight.

It was the hardest I’ve ever worked for a “B” before or since.

On the first day of class, the professor asked how many of us were botany majors. About three-quarters of the hands shot up in the air. How many turf grass majors? About 10 percent went up. Ecology? Forestry? And so it went until the instructor finally asked if there was anyone else.

I raised a hesitant hand and said I was in journalism.

“Oh,” the professor said, searching his Latin-name-filled mind for something nice to say. “Well, we need people who can write about plants.”