From the Director’s Desk

Iknow this is a slightly random topic, but stay with me: it is connected to the IAA, I promise.

For decades, I’ve been hearing urgent pleas to help save the bees. American honey bees are crucial to the pollination of American crops; according to the Department of the Interior, honey bees increase our nation’s crop values each year by more than 15 billion dollars. For reasons that aren’t yet clearly understood, colony collapse disorder has taken a serious toll on the country’s honey bee population. Understandably, many writers and thinkers have urged us all to get on board with helping to save the honey bees, suggesting techniques such as reducing the use of pesticides, emphasizing pollinator-friendly plants, and even taking up beekeeping.

Over the past year, though, I’ve been reading an increasing number of articles about the plight of America’s native bees. That group doesn’t include honey bees, which were imported from Europe in the seventeenth century. Of the over 20,000 species of bee in the world, about 4,000 species are native to the U.S.; those 4,000 species are the primary insect pollinator of agricultural plants in most of the country (again according to the Department of the Interior).

Researchers aren’t sure how much honey bees compete with native bees for resources, but since honey bees will forage almost any plant, they can use up a plant that might be the sole source of sustenance for a particular type of native bee. Many native bees are in danger of extinction, so that possibility should worry us.

Am I suggesting that we should stop worrying about the honey bees or that amateur beekeepers should feel guilty about their efforts? No, of course not. Honey bees are still important.

But I am suggesting that agriculture and ecology are extremely complicated fields. There are few easy answers to the really tough questions. How do we feed the world as the population grows? How can we restore degraded soils? How can golf courses, parks, and other green public spaces help us sequester carbon and curb climate change?

Humanity faces a never-ending stream of complex questions such as these, and that’s where the IAA comes in. Students don’t come to this university just to memorize facts—or even rules—from textbooks; they come to learn how to evaluate evidence, think, and apply ideas. (Granted, many IAA students do need to memorize the Latin names of a lot of woody plants…but that basic knowledge is the foundation on which thinking can be built.)

At the IAA, we strive to give our students hands-on expertise in a wide range of skills. The first and most important skill is learning how to solve problems, weigh priorities, and create plans. That’s why our faculty ask students to practice with as many real-life experiences as possible. IAA students don’t just answer questions about business plans; they create business plans. They don’t just answer questions about fertilizers; they read a case study about a particular site and draw conclusions and make recommendations about how to care for it. Those experiences prepare our graduates to participate in discussions about those difficult, complicated questions.

In case you’re wondering, the Prince George’s County Master Gardeners tell me that the best way to support all of the bees, native and otherwise, is to plant more native plants and mow my lawn less often. Sounds good to me—I always like a beneficial solution that’s actually less work, rather than more.

Heather McHale Interim Director