The Solitary Botanist: Mary Sophie Young’s Texas Legacy

September 20, 1872

Dearest garden enthusiasts, today we celebrate the birth of Mary Sophie Young, a tenacious botanist who, like her seven older brothers taught her to be, was tough enough to brave the wilds of West Texas in pursuit of botanical knowledge.

Like her contemporary Alice Eastwood, who would famously rescue specimens from the burning California Academy of Sciences, Young understood the value of persistence in the face of adversity. While Ynes Mexia was beginning her explorations of Mexico, Young was creating her own legacy in the vast expanses of Texas.

How many women of her era had to mask their gender just to be taken seriously in scientific correspondence?

Following in the tradition of Jane Colden, America's first woman botanist, Young navigated the male-dominated scientific world by simply signing her work "M.S. Young." Like Elizabeth Gertrude Knight Britton, who would help establish the New York Botanical Garden, Young knew that her work, not her gender, should define her legacy.

Imagine venturing alone into the wild landscapes of West Texas, armed with nothing but botanical tools and determination!

Here is Young's haunting description of a solitary evening in the field, recorded in her 1914 journal:

It's about five o'clock now. The 'lonely' time is beginning.

The air is very transparent and very still, and everything glistens.

There is something of that uncanny feeling of the consciousness of inanimate things.

What courage it must have taken to face those solitary moments in the vast Texas wilderness!

Like Kate Furbish, who meticulously documented Maine's flora, Young dedicated herself to creating a comprehensive flora of Texas. While Agnes Chase was fighting for women's suffrage between collecting grass specimens, Young was quietly revolutionizing our understanding of Texas botany.

How many plant specimens did she rescue from obscurity?

Her appointment as curator of the Austin Herbarium marked a triumph not just for her but for women in botany everywhere. Like her contemporary Mary Katharine Brandegee, who sold her personal herb collection to fund her research, Young understood that advancing botanical knowledge sometimes required personal sacrifice.

Imagine the satisfaction she must have felt, transforming from a young girl roughhousing with seven brothers in Glendale, Ohio, to becoming the authority on Texas flora!

What would those brothers think of their sister now, as she ventured alone into territories many men feared to tread?

Let this anniversary of her birth remind us that true botanical passion knows no gender, and the loneliest moments in the field often lead to the greatest discoveries!