Photograph by Virginie Kippelen
Does the word herbarium bring up the image of a lush garden filled with luxuriant plants? Think again. An herbarium actually serves as a type of natural history museum, an archive of preserved plant specimens depended on by scientists, researchers, and amateur botanists for a plethora of scientific information about the natural world. Herbaria are an essential resource for researching climate change, environmental pollution, biodiversity, and even the discovery of new foods and drugs.
Though it’s little known to most Atlantans, the Emory University Herbarium is marking its 75th year as the home of over 25,000 plant specimens, neatly dried, labeled, and organized in filing cabinets. Some specimens date back to the late 19th century. But, like many around the country, the Emory herbarium is struggling to survive, says Dr. Cassandra Quave, its current curator. Quave, an ethnobotanist and associate professor of dermatology and human health at the Emory University School of Medicine, found the herbarium in dire need of attention 12 years ago and volunteered to take over. Even with her efforts, it’s been an uphill battle to keep the repository alive.
Of the 750 or so active herbaria in the United States, nearly 500 of them are maintained by universities. Despite being a critical knowledge resource, they are rarely considered a priority for academic funding: Earlier this year, Duke University announced plans to close its century-old herbarium, one of the largest in the country with nearly 825,000 plant species. The news sent a chill through the scientific community.
The Emory herbarium is small in comparison—only the third largest in Georgia, after those at the University of Georgia and Valdosta State University—but its tiny, temperature-controlled space is home to a distinctive collection of plants, including many fungi and lichens unique to the American Southeast. Some of the oldest specimens were gathered during the Civil War era, while others were collected by Emory researchers on field expeditions studying medicinal plants used by Native American communities. One collection, devoted to the ecosystems of Georgia’s particular granite outcrops, was used to help secure Arabia Mountain’s official designation as a National Heritage Area in 2006.
Today, the herbarium is cared for by a small team of students, led by Dr. Tharanga Samarakoon, the collections manager, whose salary is paid by grants and donations to the herbarium. Her team has labored to get the herbarium back in shape, repairing, annotating, and remounting all specimens on archival paper. The herbarium’s collections have also been digitized, making them accessible worldwide through an herbarium collaboration called SouthEast Regional Network of Expertise and Collections.
“The work done in herbaria is relevant to all people,” says Quave. “It is from these collections that we can discover new medicines, new foods, new fibers to feed, clothe, and heal people across the globe.” But, she notes, climate change, overexploitation of animals for food, and constant appropriation of wild land for human use are all driving catastrophic biodiversity loss. “We are losing species faster than we can study them,” Quave told the Freakonomics Radio podcast People I (Mostly) Admire. She hopes there will be renewed interest in the preservation of dead plants and the role they can play in protecting the planet’s future.
To keep the Emory University Herbarium alive, Quave and Samarakoon have launched a campaign to raise funds that would cover the repository’s modest operating expenses, hopefully far into the future; Emory will cover costs in the meantime. “My greatest hope is that the Emory herbarium will be used as a resource in the conservation of wild edible and medicinal plants of the southern USA and beyond,” says Quave. “These specimens offer us clues for the future. To fuel the innovations of tomorrow, we must start today.”
This article appears in our December 2024 issue.
