Spare Me the Nematodes, Redux

Tagetes. Possibly from the founding prophet or god of Etruscan religion, Tages, who according to mythology, is supposed to have leapt from a deep furrow left by a ploughman. Described as having the appearance of youth but the wisdom of sages, he taught the people to predict the future through divination.

Good grief, I have a lot of useless information running through my head. But I don’t need divination to know how this will turn out. The appearance of youth with the wisdom of sages might help, but it won’t change the outcome, not in any immediate sense.

The call. I received it at home because that’s where I’ve been working throughout this pandemic. Usually, it was about needing something ASAP. This was different. It had been my boss calling from corporate to say that she had received a report about me. She would be here tomorrow at seven a.m. to visit before deciding any further action. I was not to engage in any official business for the corporation until further notice.

I look at the marigolds I have lined up in the bay window of our living room. “Mary’s gold”, for the legend concerning Mother Mary. I had started these from seeds in the early Spring so they would be ready for planting on Mother’s Day, which is today. I have six separate flats of them: Tagetes erectus or African Marigolds occupy two (called “African” even though they originated in Central & South America); in the next two, & already blooming nicely, Tagetes patula or French Marigolds (also originating in Central & South America); & in the final pair, Tagetes tenuifolia or Signet Marigolds (these are the edible ones, tasting like a mixture of basil, tarragon, citrus & mint).

Last year’s tenuifolia is what I used to brew the tea I’m drinking. Some use it as a home remedy for stomach issues, coughs, & colds. I don’t know about that. But savoring the aroma & drinking it while holding the warm cup between my hands does seem to soothe my throat & calm my nerves.

I do have a lot of useless information, don’t I? But this next bit means something to me, both in the garden & personally. Tagetes are supposed to be good for keeping garden pests away—beetles, squash bugs, leaf hoppers, tomato worms & rabbits (perhaps true, although there’s no evidence to support this); & nematodes or eelworms, plant parasites which attack the roots (definitely true; this is well-documented).

A marigold is not going to keep my pests away. The entire yard could be covered with marigolds & they would slog their way right through them. But they will not get my roots, not this time, not again.

One of my friends from work had called me right after I had gotten off the phone. She said, “I’m with you, we’re behind you all the way. We just want you to know that.” I could hear several of my colleagues calling out on her end, “That’s right! We’re with you! Love you! Hoping for the best!” Then she warned me that one of my rivals there had called a news outlet to let them know something would be going down tomorrow morning they wouldn’t want to miss. He had given them my home address. FOX News would be here sometime after midnight with a crew hoping for some salacious coverage that would keep their viewers outraged & watching.

I’m sure the other stations won’t be far behind.

“That’s right,” I think to myself. “Tromp through my fields of marigolds. At least the roots will remain safe.”

I can’t blame the media, & I can’t really blame my boss either. I know the company for which I work & their clientele. This kind of news will not set well with them. The owners & CEO had lobbied hard to make sure that laws forbidding discrimination in the workplace would not apply to us based on conscience. (Their conscience. Not ours.) This would be a scandal, just the kind that was forbidden in our employee handbook.

Don’t get me wrong. We’re allowed to be who we are, just so long as no one else knows. “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” is our company’s motto on this issue. But if someone else tells…?

Section II, subsection 6r, article 1, subpoints 26-27 in our handbook state,

“[26] Homosexuality, lesbianism, bisexuality, transsexuality, & any form of discussion, questions or inquiry of the same shall be tolerated so long as such matters of personal identity &/or activity remain private. Management is forbidden to & will not engage in any witch hunts to root such persons or groups out.

[27] However, it is important to understand that, given our industry, markets & clientele, LGBTQI+ issues are incompatible with what we do. Should such issues become public as regards one or more of our employees &/or cause a scandal, management reserves the right to terminate said employee or employees without warning. Two weeks severance will be provided & recommendations for future employment shall be offered unless there are other mitigating circumstances.”

Breathe…, just breathe. Remember the marigold. Your roots will be safe.

Please understand, my employers are good people. I like my job & those with whom I work daily. But this is going to be a scandal, this news that is about to break. You see, to them I’m the “T” in the equation.

My backstory won’t matter to most. Maybe MSNBC will cover it. It’s the type of story Rachel Maddow tends to enjoy. But for most it will be the scandal, the company’s response & the reaction of our customers that will make the headlines. And that’s what people will believe.

Technically speaking, I’m transgender, but only by accident. I was born with gonadal intersex, meaning I had full reproductive organs of both female & male. The doctor recommended immediate gender assignment surgery. My dad always wanted a boy & so it was decided. But I never was a boy & being forced to become one made me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I always was a girl—that is, until I had gender reassignment surgery when I was twenty-three. Then I became a woman, & finally who I was meant to be.

Still, they had attacked a part of my roots as an infant. They removed my uterus & ovaries. I cannot bear children, neither can my body produce the hormones I need to remain “womanly”. I will be on hormone therapy for the rest of my life.

Rachel Maddow will like that story. Few others will either notice or care. And my boss will do what she must do at seven tomorrow morning…

…at seven a.m. today! It’s already 12:06. My family will be asleep in a hotel some distance from here. Our kids, both adopted, should not have to face this. They like the circus, but not this kind. My husband will distract them with a decent breakfast & some time in the swimming pool. He’ll keep them away from any news. Maybe they’ll go to a movie, or shopping, or play miniature golf this afternoon. Something fun, I hope.

Plant Tagetes, my love. Protect them. Protect their roots.

The company for which I work is actually quite progressive on this issue, given the nature of the industry & our customer base. They had the conscience & foresight to add a second article to the Handbook immediately following what I’ve quoted above. It reads,

“We want to stress that no one of us should judge another person or persons based upon their identities or activities as described above. All of us have secrets that could become scandalous were they to be made public. No value judgments should be inferred from anything stated here. We are all persons of worth & we want you to know that you are valued. If circumstances should require termination, know that this company is committed to helping you find further gainful employment & that we will always wish the best for you. You will forever be in our hearts & a part of our family, even if we cannot state so publicly.”

Article two makes me think that the day will come when article one, subpoints twenty-six & twenty-seven will be removed & no more remembered. But I hope they keep this second article. It’s good to be reminded now & then.

I hear a vehicle pull up, doors opening & slamming shut, voices…, FOX is here. My watch says it’s 3:16. I laugh to myself thinking, “How appropriate. They so love to host all those sports programs where you see signs with those same numbers all over the stands.”

Well come & get me. What are you waiting for?

They’re waiting for seven a.m., for my boss to arrive. Until then, they may not even know what they’re covering.

My thoughts return to my boss. She would be rising soon, having her breakfast, getting dressed & into her car for the three-hour drive. I don’t envy her. This must be hard. She knows what is right, that this is wrong, but she will still have to do it.

I wonder if her day will include sharing some ideas of where I might go & what I might do after this. My husband’s job is here, the kids’ school, their friends. We can’t just pick up & leave. We still have a mortgage to pay. Will she have some thoughts for us? Or will she be so focused on what she’s going to say outside that she forgets?

I feel my anxieties beginning to rise again. Calm down. Just breathe. Remember the marigold. Your roots are safe. They cannot touch who you are.

I pour myself another cup of Tagetes tea. It’s cold, so I stick it in the microwave for a couple of minutes. The clock says it’s 5:32. Other news crews are arriving, setting up, both front & back. The neighbors will be stirring. They’ll get to watch the sunrise as they wonder about all the commotion on our lawn & in the street.

I savor the warmth & aroma of the tea once more & I find that I am strangely calm. The day will come when none of this will be news anymore because none of it will happen. The nematodes of long-established tradition, proof-texting authorities, questionable reasoning & lack of informing experience will not prevail. The roots will be safe, the plants—i.e., our children—will grow. And they will produce fruit.

The doorbell rings. It’s 6:55. I open the door & the first thing I see…

…she is holding a marigold.