To weed or not to weed?

Picture this, it's Fall 2023 and your degree planner states you need to take SCSC 446 (Weed Management and Ecology), the only class that covers weeds as a field pest. Luckily, that class is offered in the upcoming spring. Once registration opens you secure a spot in the weed class and pat yourself on the back for a job well done. 

Now it's spring 2024; you walk into class and take a seat. The professor introduces himself and exclaims he is excited because this semester, there are undergraduate students!

This is the weed class, right?" You ask the professor. "Yes" he answers. "This is SCSC 453, Essentials for Weed Systematic Identification and Management in Agronomy."

That—is how you find out there are two weed classes in the soil science department.

The next two weeks are spent talking with your friend who sits at the front of the class, and made the same mistake as you. “Should I drop this class” you wonder. Afterall, it's not needed, and there is a lot of memorization involved here. But there’s only four undergraduates, if you dropped the professor would notice. You are conflicted, but in the end, you stay. 

Halfway through the semester you learn this class serves as a bit of a prerequisite for a competition that takes place in the summer, the Southern Weed Science contest. "We've never had an undergraduate team before," your graduate level classmates tell you. "But this year we can!"

Now this, is something you do not want to do. If memorizing 100 weeds and 20+ herbicides with their accompanying symptomology wasn't enough, they want you to compete off that knowledge? You clarify you will not be participating in the summer contest. Your classmates are slightly disappointed but understand. Midterms come along and your friend has decided she wants to compete. She asks if you will, you tell her “maybe.” She tells this to one of the graduate students. That graduate student signs you up for the competition. “Congratulations,” they tell you, “you made the team.” You stand there confused; they ask for your t-shirt size. 

Since clarifying the situation would make things far too awkward, you resign yourself and decide to see where this competition takes you. And where it takes you, is into a club that teaches you more about weed science and the farming industry than you've ever known.

Controlling weeds in an art. Being able to identify problems in the field and immediately give recommendations to rectify them is a skill. More than once, I've found myself standing in a crop field listening to the farmers while I rack my brain for a solutions. “I don’t know” is not an acceptable answer. If I were an actual consultant, it would be my job to put the farmer at ease and start the process of getting their crops back on track. As student at the Southern Weed Science Contest, I am that consultant. It’s my job to identify weeds, herbicide symptomology, calibrate drone sprayers, calculate fertilizer problems, and troubleshoot farmers fields. That kind of pressure leads to a level of critical thinking that leaves you examining every detail of an area before the timer even starts.

What's the weather like? Is that bronzing or streaking on the plant's stem? Does their neighbor spray for anything? Have there been any weed problems here historically? A handful of the many questions running through my brain as I examine mock fields and piece together the solution to these challenges.

Though I started off unsure, being a member of the weed science team has built my confidence. Even if I'm not always correct, my ability to explore a scene, use process of elimination, and examine plants has improved. Not only am I more well rounded, but I'm interested in the science behind controlling weeds. That's a field I didn't even know existed until I registered for the wrong course.

Best mistake of my life