Last year I bought a packet of seeds on amazon for Fresno chili peppers. Bobby Flay is always using them and a lot of his recipes that we try to make have Fresnos in them. But they are rare, at least in southern Vermont, so I thought I’d try to grow them myself indoors with a grow light.

I haven’t been the best pepper farmer; the plants are about nine months old, they aren’t watered enough, they don’t have enough dirt in their pots, the light doesn’t seem to be sufficient. But they are all still alive, and once in a while one will produce a little flower and later a tiny hot pepper. I plan to transplant them this spring to good soil and coax them along more to reward their tenacity to grow in such inadequate circumstances.

I was watering them the other day and the thought popped into my head that these plants are a lot like my sister T. She wasn’t given the best start, our parents didn’t seem to value education, or if they did, they did not encourage or make the path any easier. A bad early marriage, the illness and death of our parents, and some health crises were obstacles on her path as well.

T works for an institution that she is passionate about, but her managers are poor and opportunity lacks.

In her symbolic, tiny pot of inadequate, under-nourished soil, with little light shed on her many talents, she manages to produce flowers. She works 40+ hours a week, then goes home and works on getting her master’s degree. Her desire to champion her co-workers and subordinates against the corrupt hierarchy of her workplace is her hot pepper.

Hopefully soon her spring will come and she can be transplanted to a place with way more room to grow, sufficient soil to draw inspiration from and light will be flooded onto her capacious talents. That will be a blue ribbon winning pepper when that day comes.

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