Also known as la flor de nochebuena,

The Christmas star,

The lobster flower,

The flame leaf,

Euphorbia pulcherrima,

and, one of its oldest names,

cuetlaxochitl.

In the US during the holidays, this plant, usually potted with bright red and green leaves, can be seen everywhere.

But the history of how it got here is less obvious.

And it's all wrapped up in the controversial legacy of this man: Joel Poinsett.

Poinsettias are native to this region, from Mexico down into Central and South America.

The Aztec called it cuetlaxochitl, meaning "flower that withers."

And unlike the potted varieties we see today, in the wild, these plants look like tall shrubs that flower in the winter season.

It was a prized plant.

The brilliant red colored leaves (which are leaves and not actually petals) were used to dye textiles, while the sap of the plants was used medicinally.

And by the 17th century, likely because of those red leaves that bloomed in time for the holiday season,

Spanish friars used the flowers to decorate elaborate nativity displays in Mexico.

Spanish-speaking Mexicans named it la flor de nochebuena, the flower of Christmas Eve.

And for many in the country, it became forever linked to Christmastime. 

For hundreds of years, common knowledge of the plant was largely contained to where it grew natively. 

That is, until Joel Poinsett.

In 1825, Poinsett, a diplomat, amateur botanist, and South Carolina native, was appointed as the first ever US minister to Mexico.

As the story goes, he came across cuetlaxochitl in a town called Taxco, took some cuttings, and shipped them off to the US to distribute to his botanist peers. 

Eventually they caught on in the US, too.

They were debuted at an 1829 flower show in Philadelphia.

Nurseries began to grow and distribute the plants in the US.

And its popularity as the "Christmas plant" exploded.

The name "poinsettia" stuck, as a way to celebrate Joel Poinsett's legacy.

One that would grow to include not just minister to Mexico, but US Secretary of War,

and founding member of the institution that would later become the Smithsonian.

But his legacy is a tainted one.

Take Poinsett's time as minister to Mexico, where he aggressively attempted to increase American influence in the country.

One letter to Secretary of State Martin Van Buren — focused on the potential to "enlighten minds with liberal ideas" — revealed his thoughts on the Mexican population,

stating the Spaniards' "...constant intercourse with the aborigines, who were and still are degraded to the very lowest class of human beings...

contributed to render the Mexicans a more ignorant and debauched people.”

Poinsett, a slave owner himself back in the US, believed racial hierarchy between the indigenous and "white Creole" population could help progress in Mexico.

Poinsett also sought to expand American borders.

At the time, the US looked like this...

and he was tasked with negotiating a deal to buy Texas from Mexico.

But, before he could negotiate that deal, he ended up meddling so much in Mexican politics, that he was asked to leave the country.

It happened like this:

By helping to establish a network of freemason groups, known as the largest international secret society, he helped to gather men in Mexico with pro-American politics.

Eventually, that organizing laid the groundwork for a public, pro-America political party in Mexico to gain steam, angering many within the Mexican government.

His interference with local politics created so much conflict that Mexicans even coined the term "poinsettismo" to describe "officious and intrusive conduct".

And in 1829, at the request of the Mexican president, Poinsett was removed from his post.

A few years later, after returning to the US, he was appointed US Secretary of War.

In that role, he oversaw the forcible displacement of an estimated 20,000 indigenous Cherokee people from their homes, to push them west as a part of the Indian Removal Act.

It was part of the ethnic cleansing known as the Trail of Tears that would go on to displace roughly 100,000 indigenous people.

That cemented Poinsett's place in history, a man who believed in American expansion, at all costs.

Back in his home state of South Carolina, Poinsett's name lives on in many ways: a state park, a highway, a hotel, even a statue.

Though, his most well-known namesake is likely, still the plant.

Poinsettia production grew even more after years of engineering, creating fuller and more compact plants.

Today, it's an industry worth around $170 million in the US alone.

And importantly, it's a market the US has cornered, while shutting Mexico out.

Due to decades-old sanitation laws, there are restrictions on Mexican poinsettia growers who want to export potted plants to the US.

It means the vast majority of the plants we see in stores in the US, are grown here.

In recent years, many have found a, different, small way to honor this plant's history.

By rejecting the name poinsettia, and using its Aztec name, cuetlaxochitl.

A name that, hopefully, reminds people of the true origins of the plant of the season.

Thanks for watching this Christmas edition of Missing Chapter, our series that explores how our past connects with our present.

This year, we've covered everything from reparations in New Zealand to Native American sign language.

You can find a link to all the episodes we've made in the description below.

For each episode, we spend weeks reporting, speaking with experts, and poring over archival images and documents to present fact-checked stories.

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With your support, we're able to keep telling these stories about hidden histories.