Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
Record I'm Listening To: Autobahn - Kraftwerk
Beer I'm Enjoying: Lynnwood Brewing Concern's Bad Leroy
For all of us, becoming indigenous to a place means living as if your children’s future mattered, to take care of the land as if our lives, both material and spiritual, depended on it.
I can’t remember exactly where I read it, I think it was in Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens – a statement something along the lines of the Agricultural Revolution being “history’s greatest fraud.” It goes without saying, that a transition to farming, from hunting and gathering, has provided many of the social, economic, and countless other benefits that accompany a society who is able to stay put and grow, as opposed to remain nomadic. I came across another quote only last week that really resonated with me too. This one by American naturalist John Muir, who walked away from a very successful career, in order to pursue his passion for the environment. When asked if he was concerned about the wealth of a former colleague as compared to himself, Muir replied, “I am already richer than him. I have all the money I need, and he doesn’t.” For tens of thousands of years, humanity took only what it needed from the earth so as to sustain life, but has been on a slippery slope ever since the Agricultural Revolution. Since then we’ve been able to accumulate and store more than we need. As I sit here in the comfort of my rented town home early in the morning, enjoying a coffee before I start getting ready for work, I am a direct beneficiary of this revolution, as are we all, and I don’t desire to give it up and become a hunter-gatherer. Neither does Robin Wall Kimmerer, but she understands, and articulates beautifully, the need to do something to interrupt this pattern of unsustainable practice. She’s a classically trained botanist and a professor at SUNY College of Environmental Science and Forestry. She’s also a Native American, and her book, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, And The Teachings Of Plants, as the subtitle implies, is a remarkable collection of stories and strategies that combine scientifically proven methods, with what Indigenous Americans have known all along, to promote a sustainable exchange with the earth.
Each chapter focuses on something specific, whether that be pecans, strawberries, harvesting, or the mythical Native American best – Windigo, as well as many others. Each one is told through her own personal experiences as a mother, educator, and Native American, delicately weaving her scientific expertise with that of her Potawatimi heritage. I can’t say that I’ve read many books like this, and I’m beginning to scour the internet for similar books by Indigenous Australian, and Indigenous Southern African authors, having been inspired to learn more about what Indigenous cultures can teach us about our failing relationship with the natural world. I may not have read a lot of books on this topic, but I’ve heard plenty of stories, and in none of them do we hear of these cultures abusing the land for their own gain. I mentioned the Windigo before, a cannibalistic, evil creature, with a heart of ice, and breath that stinks of carrion. Legend has it, that it stalks the Plains and Great Lakes regions of the United States. It’s hunger and greed is said to be insatiable. The Potawatimi and other Native American tribes of the area were acutely aware of its presence, but knew that their ability to keep it at bay depended on harmony with the land, lest they themselves become the next Windigo by over-extorting the wilderness for selfish reasons.
It’s not just land that is broken, but more importantly, our relationship to land.
This is only a minor part of the book, and only appears toward the end, but it was one of the more striking elements for me as I couldn’t help but think of the Windigo as a warning. A warning that Native Americans have been heeding since time immemorial.
It’s easy to read a book like this and feel hopeless, but the tone is hardly doom and gloom. In fact it’s incredibly light-hearted through most of the pages. There are some hard truths stated as matter of fact. Kimmerer was ridiculed by an all male panel when defending her PhD thesis for speaking of the beauty of plants. She talks too, about the persecution of Native Americans. But her underlying message is to use science and traditional wisdom in combination with one another to start restoring the land, not by giving up what we have, but by being mindful, and taking only what we need. In this way, we also give back.
We are showered every day with gifts, but they are not meant for us to keep. Their life is in their movement, the inhale and the exhale of our shared breath. Our work and our joy is to pass along the gift and to trust that what we put out into the universe will always come back.
This is a desirable lifestyle, but I’ll be the first to put my hand up and say that I’ve got a long way to go. More specifically, I’m aware that the intention to live a greener, more minimalist and sustainable lifestyle, and actually following through on it, are two different things. As with all behaviour change, it starts with education and baby steps. Braiding Sweetgrass is an amazing example of a book that helps to educate simply and powerfully, whilst also empowering anyone who wants to make change, through Kimmerer’s inspiring and beautiful storytelling.
If all the world is a commodity, how poor we grow. When all the world is a gift in motion, how wealthy we become.