The following two pieces were written by US History students in the classes of Ms. Kautz and Mr. Heiland, as part of a project on Indigenous land practices and food sovereignty. Some students also wrote letters to policymakers (school or broader community) with ideas on how to better recognize Indigenous excellence. Some students, however, like those that produced these pieces, chose to inform their peers about these issues. If you drop by the library, you will see many of these projects–everything from pamphlets, to posters, to board games!
The month of November is known as Indigenous Peoples Month. Thus, it seems as apt a time as any to learn about Indigenous history and culture. Taking the time to learn about Indigenous people is a step in the direction of allyship, and is respectful towards the people who lived on this land long before we did.
Throughout Indigenous history, Native Peoples have developed sacred and effective land practices, collectively known as stewardship. Unfortunately, these practices have gone uncredited by the majority of people in the U.S., including ecologists, conservationists, and the government itself, leaving Indigenous peoples unrecognized for their incredible land preservation practices and land beliefs. Some of these practices have been completely ignored, while others have been appropriated. Although Native Americans have been—and still are—unappreciated for their hard work, we can start to change by crediting their practices and culture, by learning, growing, and even participating in these land practices with appreciation.
For this article to have the widest reach, there are a few words that need to be defined: Appropriation is the practice of taking an idea from a different culture, without crediting it or taking the time to learn about the other culture and the context in which the practice is created. Appreciation is the opposite—the practice of taking time to learn about the culture surrounding a practice, and crediting the practice to that culture.
Stewardship is the practice of taking care of the land, using various methods that benefit the ecosystems specific to an area; it is a way of human interaction with the land that keeps humans as a part of the ecosystem, rather than considering humanity to be separate or above the rest of nature. Stewardship came about as a way of survival, a mutual respect with the land that led to greater resources.
One example of an appropriated practice is prescribed burning. Prescribed burning is the practice of intentionally setting small fires. In forests, these fires stay in the undergrowth, burning old leaf litter and invasive species. The fires diminish insect populations, and reduce the amount of undergrowth, allowing native species and new seedlings a better chance at getting space and nutrients to grow. Prescribed burning was primarily applied by Indigenous people on the West Coast and the Great Plains. In some places, such fires even created entire new ecosystems, such as the headland prairies created and maintained by the Nechense in their salmon beacon ceremonies — ceremonies where fires were set in the headlands near rivers to call salmon in, welcoming them to the rivers nearby where they were aloud to run without being harvested for several days before fishing began. Unfortunately, the particular salmon beacons that created these headlands are no longer lit, as the Nechense were decimated by smallpox and measles in the 1830s.
The fires do far more than just eliminate harmful undergrowth—they are important to the ecosystem, many parts of which are fire-reliant. The salmon, for whom the beacons were set, are in fact drawn up the rivers, as the smoke can reduce sunlight enough to cool the river a few degrees, making it hospitable to salmon in the heat of summertime. There are trees that have evolved so that their cones don’t open and release seeds unless they are burnt. The burning provides nutrients and space for seedlings, and all of the trees and plants in these ecosystems are evolved to cope with fire, meaning that the fire kills invasives while benefiting the rest of the ecosystem.
Not only does burning continue such processes, it makes natural resources available. By burning leaf litter and old acorns, the Karuk, who have long used prescribed burning and continue to do so today, make fresh acorns far easier to harvest. The fires cause basketry materials to grow stronger and thus more usable. It helps provide for the land, which in turn provides for the people.
The fire does one other important thing: it prevents larger forest fires from happening by removing fuel. It is becoming known today as a fire fighting method— a way to stop the big fires that have been raging more and more frequently. However, there are many issues with this outlook. It doesn’t view the fire as a friend the way the Karuk do, but rather as something to fear, something to be fought. If we can follow the Karuk and other Indigenous peoples that use fire this way, crediting them with their incredible knowledge, and learn to respect and love fire, it becomes possible to once again use it as a practice of stewardship and respect for the land, rather than a desperate measure to stop the fires that rage from a lack of the very same thing—fire.
There are some practices that haven’t been appropriated, let alone appreciated by those other than Indigenous peoples.These practices could have an incredible impact on the land, including the idea of the Honorable Harvest. The Honorable Harvest is a blanket name for the various teachings that govern how Indigenous people take resources from the land. It varies from group to group as the ecosystem alters, but there are many concepts that remain similar. Robin Wall Kimerer, a Potawatomi woman and botanist, wrote these down in her book Braiding Sweetgrass:
Know the ways of the ones who take care of you, so that you may take care of them.
Introduce yourself. Be accountable as the one who comes asking for life.
Ask permission before taking. Abide by the answer.
Never take the first. Never take the last.
Take only what you need.
Take only that which is given
Never take more than half. Leave some for others.
Harvest in a way that minimizes harm.
Use it respectfully. Never waste what you have taken.
Share.
Give thanks for what you have been given.
Give a gift, in reciprocity for what you have taken.
Sustain the ones who sustain you, and the earth will last forever.
The Honorable Harvest provides a way to take life, as humans must do to survive, while doing the least harm possible. In many cases, harvesting benefits the ecosystem and population of the being that is harvested. Unfortunately, when Europeans saw Indigenous people harvesting, they didn’t understand; they thought that the Indigenous were wasting available resources by leaving them unharvested, not as participating in respect and conservation of the land.
Moreover, the Honorable Harvest has a tendency to benefit the population being harvested more than simply being left alone would; the harvest makes sure the population continues for generations to come. The Menominee are a very good example of this: they are people of the forest, choosing to make money through the lumber industry. Rather than using the destructive techniques of conventional modern forestry, they follow the Honorable Harvest. They only take the old, sick, dying trees, and move through the forest, spreading this harvest over a large area to minimize damage. By doing so, they reduce the spread of disease, open space for new trees, and maintain a diverse ecosystem. The trees are more than lumber—they provide homes for many species, sequester carbon, clean the air and water, prevent erosion, and are a valuable ecosystem. As a result of the Harvest, the forest on the Menominee reservation is so much more vibrant that the borders of the reservation are visible on a satellite image.
Here in Ithaca, there are many patches of wild leeks that are dwindling away because people are so excited to find them that they don’t follow the Honorable Harvest. These plants would continue to thrive if people looked to see if they’d already been harvested, asked permission to take, looked for any sign that the patch was unable to support a harvest, and didn’t take more than half. Abiding by even a few rules of the Honorable Harvest makes such a difference.
Another practice that ought to be appreciated and implemented is polycropping. Polycropping is the practice of growing two or more food plants together in the same place at the same time. These plants work together to grow. Polycropping maintains biodiversity by avoiding massive swaths of the same plant—and thus also reduces the spread of disease, making it harder to lose all of your crop. It allows for greater spatial efficiency, and makes it possible to grow more types of food. (This can mean growing two
completely different plants next to each other, or planting many species of the same food plant.) Often, Indigenous people did both of these things.
A fairly well known example of polycropping is the Three Sisters—beans, corn, and squash. They were and are common food staples for many people, primarily in Central and North America, in part due to the great variety in species from human cultivation of the Three Sisters in many different climates. Some varieties can be planted six inches deep, and sprout with no issue at all, surviving on only a few inches of rain per year. The Three Sisters are grown together for many reasons. Corn, beans, and squash, between them, have all of the necessary nutrients for a balanced diet, making them the ideal combination of foods to grow. Additionally, they benefit each other in their endeavor to grow. Corn grows tall and steady, sprouting first and providing beans with a trellis. Beans, in turn, fix nitrogen—a vital element present in many fertilizers—in the soil, preventing it from becoming depleted. Bean leaves fill in the gaps between the corn leaves, using space effectively without disrupting the other plant. Squash sprawls across the ground, filling in the available space there. Its big leaves cover the ground, suppressing weeds and keeping water from evaporating from the soil.
Another example of polycropping is the Hawaiian concept of food forests. Indigenous Hawaiian people used to live off of what they call tree food—food from the forests, an incredibly diverse and abundant diet. This diet included many types of fruit trees, such as breadfruit and bananas, as well as ground-grown plants eaten for their roots and tubers, such as yams, taro, and turmeric.
The Hawaiian islands were invaded by the United States, destroying Indigeous sovereignty. In 1878, Indigenous land practices were banned by Christian missionaries. Not only did this stop the people of Hawaii from practicing their culture and what the missionaries perceived as religion, it also opened a gate for ecosystem destruction. No longer were the diverse, abundant forests maintained as the primary source of food. The trees of the highlands were cut down to make a place for colonizers to graze cattle. Monocropping of plants, many of which were poorly adapted for the climate, took over. Single species of sugarcane and pineapple were grown en masse, and the coffee industry destroyed the breadfruit belt, a band of climate in which the tree thrived. On their own, all of these crops were incredibly susceptible not just to disease, but also to storms and drought. By contrast, the food forests maintained by Indigenous Hawaiians were diverse in both types of plants and specific species. The forests trapped moisture, causing a lower impact on the environment than current-day crops, and were far more resistant to storms. They made food available year-round, with different crops ripening at different times.
Today, a group of Indigenous people in Hawaii is working on making food forests available again, mostly on a smaller scale: backyards. The group works within zoning limits, trying to regain food sovereignty, and provide food security in the case of a disaster that makes food unavailable through the common modern means. There is also an Ethnobotanical Garden, where the same concepts are upheld. After all, the practice of polycropping has benefited Indigenous peoples for millenia. Now, polycropping can still be used to improve produce and production, strengthen biodiversity, decrease fertilizer use, and stop disease from decimating crop populations.
These are only a few examples of land practices of Indigenous Peoples. There are many more, and several of them remain incredibly applicable today. After all, Indigenous American Peoples have lived far closer to this land than most current-day Americans do, and thus know how to care for it. Some of their ideas are used in some capacity, but most of them go unrecognized, if used at all. Now, as many of us try to fix the damage generations of people have done to the land, it is long overdue for us to turn to Indigenous people for their knowledge. It is important that these people are recognised for their ingenuity. There are numerous ways to do this: take more time to learn, spread information in your community, write to policymakers, or write to Indigenous organizations looking to make change. There are many forms of media made by Indigenous People themselves where one can learn much more. It is vital that we take time to learn about Indigenous practices, and credit the people who have so long gone unrecognized.