The Privilege of Buckthorn

Yesterday, I took a walk through the woods. Step after step, new scenery emerged around every bend and over every hill. As I traveled farther from home, the path became narrower and less maintained. Fallen trees had to be stepped over, and large rocks were to be shifted around. As I trotted along this path, I raised my head and noticed a dash of color amongst the grey and brown of early April. Spring Ephemerals were just beginning to blossom, isolated on the forest floor, fluttering with the light breeze. A real sign of spring. Before the mighty oak trees sprout leaves from their branches and before the lily pads and tall grass rise with the change of seasons.

Delighted as I was, I noticed Buckthorn growing heavily in this area of the forest, characterized by the plant’s thorny arms and woody spine. Invasive nonnative plants are oftentimes detrimental to a Spring Ephemeral’s growth. As I looked around me, I spotted hundreds of Buckthorn plants, each stripped of its leaves by a harsh winter— but each with the potential to saturate the entire forest floor, depriving everything below it of sunlight.

The Buckthorn knows no better. Its biological features allow it to spread fast, take up space, and prevent other plants from growing under its foliage. Of course, to make the assertion that Buckthorn isn’t in control of the way it behaves due to its biological status upon entering the soil would be biological racism of sorts. Ibram Kendi would argue that by providing the excuse that Buckthorn acts this way because it’s a Buckthorn is an institutionally ingrained belief that must change in order to ensure invasiveness is extinguished. Instead, it should be said that Buckthorn is this way because it’s invasive, not because of the way it happens to be biologically.

So this must mean that Buckthorn knows better and simply chooses not to share the forest floor with others. But why should its biological classification allow it to get away with aggressively suppressing anything that attempts to sprout below it? And why was the way it was created subjected to a higher status? The answer is that it shouldn’t. Ideally, all plants should have equal opportunity to grow to the heights they desire, without being oppressed by Buckthorn— which has been given an ideal position to grow quickly and spread effortlessly. Buckthorn should not consider itself and other Buckthorn the standard for forest foliage simply because it can’t see under its leaves to witness the plants they’ve let die.

Some Buckthorns become angry when told the reason they grew so quickly is due to their roots and branches, which were already fully grown after winter’s end. These Buckthorns tend to become increasingly defensive of their position on the sub-canopy, asserting there is no way they could possibly be taking precious sunlight from those who reside on the forest floor. For these Buckthorns genuinely believe they’ve achieved their foliage because of their own hard work and nothing more. They might even go as far as to say it’s harder for them to grow because of the Spring Ephemeral’s constant need for moisture in the soil. Robin DiAngelo might say these Buckthorns are exerting fragility as a means to protect their privilege, bullying Ephemerals who reside below their foliage back into their position in hopes that they don’t dare accuse the Buckthorn of oppression again.

There are other Buckthorns who emphatically describe themselves as allies and advocates for Spring Ephemeral growth, repeatedly claiming there’s room for everyone. All the while, their foliage blocks out the sun’s precious rays as they continue to smile and encourage the colorful little flowers forward, oblivious to their own deceitfulness.

As my gaze turned left and right, up and down, I realized that my position in the woods seemed to be surrounded by Buckthorn. I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for the scene in front of me. My ancestors brought this plant from Europe many generations ago, unaware of its invasiveness and the suffocation it exhibits on Spring Ephemerals and other plants alike. Charles W. Mills and Robin DiAngelo would agree that it’s delusional to study this system without first acknowledging how it was mediated by my ancestors’ belief that Buckthorn was simply a garden shrub. It would also be naive of us to assume that Buckthorn and its descendants don’t continually benefit from a system that allows Buckthorns to thrive, and for all others to perish in its wake.

Feeling as though there was nothing I could do for the small patch of Spring Ephemerals under what would eventually become a thick bushel of Buckthorn, I was hesitant to turn around, back towards familiarity and comfort— when the works of Ibram Kendi came to mind. After all, he would tell me, it’s not at all enough to hate Buckthorn. By standing on the opposite side of the path and passively thinking about how those pretty little wildflowers won’t see the end of summer, I am just as suppressive as if I had planted Buckthorn in my own backyard.

It is my duty to take action against Buckthorn, ripping it from the earth to ensure the bloom of the less privileged plants. The plants that, given equitable sunlight, will blossom and expand their reach, letting the world know how beautiful they are. And if every traveler on the same path rips a different Buckthorn root from its position in the soil, soon enough, the whole forest will be free of a dangerous invasive species, and the Spring Ephemerals will populate the forest in all their magnificence, providing color to an otherwise homogenous woodland.