Being bilingual

No ferns grow that tall in this part of the country, but thinking that she might be mistaken about the size, I pointed out other ferns that grow larger. She rejected the ostrich and osmunda ferns, repeating, “I want Japanese fern. It gets about this high,” again holding her hand up. At my last suggestion, the lady fern (Anthyrium filix-femina) the customer swore under her breath and stalked out of the garden center with obvious disgust.

Two weeks later I realized what she wanted when another client asked if we had any Japanese fern-leaf maples. Many of them grow about 6 feet high! Had my customer mentioned the word “tree,” her trip to the garden center wouldn’t have ended so unhappily.

This incident illustrates our problem with common names. Sometimes several plants share the same common name, and other times our customers only remember part of the name or have it slightly wrong. Everyone is frustrated when the common name communications break down. Yet many of our customers aren’t familiar with scientific names, so using these exclusively doesn’t guarantee smooth interactions. Some people feel intimidated if every name you say has its roots in Latin or Greek. The truth is, we all need to become bilingual in the garden center, ready to straddle the line between common names and botanical nomenclature.

Use dual lingo

It’s easy in print because we can use a common name first, followed by the scientific name in parentheses. It’s in our interest to do this, even when referring to a plant everyone knows. We might be able to write “foxglove,” for example, without confusion, but by following it with (Digitalis purpurea), we are helping our customers to get familiar with botanical names.

If a common name is shared by many plants, such as laurel, the scientific name can be crucial. The customer who wants to use bay laurel (Laurus nobilis) to flavor soup should not be sold sheep laurel (Kalmia angustifolia), which isn’t edible.

Another reason to use scientific names on your website or blog is that they can affect your Google rankings. The SEO of your web presence is helped by quality content, and the use of botanic names tells search engines that you are an authority who knows what you’re talking about.

But beyond print, how can we help our customers and employees navigate these two languages easily? One way is to do the same thing orally that we do in our blogs and newsletters … use both. If a customer comes into my garden center and asks for a native juniper, I might say, “The red cedars, Juniperus virginiana, are right over here. Let’s go check them out.”

illustration © Irina | Adobe Stock

Be a word nerd

Another way to introduce the public to scientific plant names is to comment on them when they’re interesting or amusing. “On Cape Cod we know that the beach plum, Prunus maritima, does well because both the common name and the botanical name refer to our maritime climate. The name gives it all away.” Or, “It’s easy to see why this weed is called butter-and-eggs, but the botanic name, Linaria vulgaris, doesn’t mean that it’s vulgar!” This casual inclusion of scientific names also benefits nearby employees who are just getting comfortable with botanical terms.

Staff can be encouraged to learn more about plant names by having books such as “Latin for Gardeners” by Lorraine Harrison or “The Gardener’s Botanical” by Ross Bayton available in the office or employee break room. One person might even take on posting a “botanical term of the week” on a blackboard where customers and staff alike can see it. Such posts can explain that vulgaris in a plant name means common, not vulgar, or that officinalis means that the plant was considered useful for medicine, herbalism or cookery.

Get comfortable

The smartphone has greatly advanced efforts to make everyone more familiar and comfortable with botanic nomenclature. Most people carry a computer in their pocket, where plant names, common and scientific, can be quickly researched. Those who might feel too intimidated to ask another person about a plant name can easily ask Google, which never judges or cops an attitude.

As we help everyone become comfortable with scientific names, one stumbling block is when a name is difficult to pronounce. The fact that some asters were renamed as Eurybia is easy to accept. I’m sorry, but those reclassified as Symphyotrichum will always be “asters” to me.