The Great Rhubarb Identity Crisis

Recently, one of the veterans in our Landing Strong community generously brought in some rhubarb from his garden. There is something special about receiving food that someone has grown and shared. It carries a sense of connection, care, and community that goes well beyond the ingredient itself.

I took some home and soon found myself standing over the stove, slowly stewing a delicious batch of rhubarb. As the aroma filled the kitchen, my mind wandered to a question I had never really considered before: Is rhubarb a fruit or a vegetable?

As it turns out, botanically speaking, rhubarb is a vegetable. It is the stalk of a plant, much like celery. Yet despite this scientific classification, many of us think of it as a fruit because it is commonly used in pies, jams, and desserts.

The story becomes even more interesting when you look at it from a legal perspective. In 1947, a New York court legally classified rhubarb as a fruit. The reason? Fruit was taxed at a lower rate than vegetables. The classification had little to do with biology and everything to do with how people wanted the plant to be treated.

That got me thinking.
How often do we do the same thing with people?

In particular, I thought about those living with occupational stress injuries, including Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). We often debate what PTSD is. Is it a lifelong condition? A disorder? A disability? Or is it a predictable and normal human response to exposure to extraordinary adversity and trauma?

The answer may be more complex than any single label can capture. Labels can be useful. They help us access services, create understanding, and provide a framework for treatment. But labels can also shape expectations. They can influence how others see us, and perhaps more importantly, how we see ourselves.

The rhubarb didn’t change because a court called it a fruit. It remained exactly what it always was. Likewise, a person is not defined by a diagnosis. A diagnosis may describe an experience, but it does not determine a future. With appropriate care, support, meaningful connection, and thoughtful attention, many people learn to manage the impacts of trauma and build rich, purposeful lives.

Sometimes the most important question is not what something is called, but what helps it flourish.

Warmly,

Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych.
Executive Director, Landing Strong