Book Review: Braiding Sweetgrass
“What would it be like to be raised on gratitude, to speak to the natural world as a member of the democracy of species, to raise a pledge of interdependence?”
Botanist and professor of plant ecology Robin Wall Kimmerer has made a career out of asking questions about nature using the tools of science. As a member of the Potawatomi Nation, Kimmerer learned from both her elders and the practices of other indigenous peoples that plants and animals are our oldest teachers. In Braiding Sweetgrass, Kimmerer brings these two worlds together, sharing what she has learned as both an indigenous person and as a scientist about the natural world, and how both play a role in reestablishing a reciprocal relationship with the earth.
Indigenous peoples cultivate gratitude for all that the natural world provides. Kimmerer argues that cultures of gratitude are also cultures of reciprocity. This concept of giving back is an acknowledgment of what is provided, both by people and by nature, as well as an understanding that what the earth provides is not infinite without purposeful protection.
Even though the worlds of scientific and indigenous knowledge have largely been kept separate, both can contribute to a better understanding of the other. What indigenous peoples knew through instinct and practice can be confirmed by science and where appropriate, applied more widely through technology.
Sweetgrass embodies the intersection of this knowledge, including the concepts of gratitude and reciprocity. Used by indigenous peoples in North America as both a ceremonial plant and for weaving baskets, sweetgrass benefits from sustainable harvesting. In a dissertation experiment conducted by one of Kimmerer’s graduate students, sweetgrass was shown to be more prolific when only a third of a plot was harvested. Plots of sweetgrass that were fully harvested or left untouched replenished poorly or not at all. In short, science confirmed that the life of sweetgrass is enhanced by human interaction and vice versa.
This idea of a symbiotic relationship between humans and the other living things, one that benefits all parties, leads to questions about how we consume our resources. As Kimmerer puts it, “How do we consume in a way that does justice to the lives we take?”
She confronts the impact of this question during an annual tradition of harvesting wild leeks near her home. The leeks grow in the rich soils of deciduous and because they are slow to grow and regenerate, indigenous practice dictates only taking what is needed or as a guide, just one-third of a grouping. Leaving something behind not only nourishes other living things (the soil, insects, birds, animals, etc.), it increases the likelihood that there will be more later.
One spring, Kimmerer discovers that her neighbor has chosen to sell the hardwood forest and finds the land completely stripped. The leeks, now without the protection of the forest or nourishment of the natural organic matter that the trees and other forest vegetation provides, are struggling. Without the support of the natural ecosystem, this will be the last time leeks will attempt to grow in that location. By taking the lives of the trees, many other lives were also taken.
The perception of white colonizers that resources in North American are endless led to the willful destruction of the reciprocal relationships indigenous peoples had with their environments. Enticed by the seemingly endless natural bounty before them, white colonizers instituted a culture of taking, without considering the cyclical needs of nature nor the harm inflicted on native peoples that would last generations. Inarguably these destructive practices continue to this today.
Onondaga Lake in upstate New York is often used as a modern-day example of the long-term and widespread effects of industrial pollution and for Kimmerer, it’s also an illustration of the effects of an indifferent culture of “taking.” Once a life source for animals and a recreational destination for many across the state, the lake ignominiously became known as the most polluted in America due to the indiscriminate dumping of industrial waste and sewage for over a century. Despite literally becoming a stinking mark of shame, few were willing to take responsibility for either the act of polluting or the clean-up.
Now faced with the imminent ramifications of climate change and decades of neglect, the western world is just beginning to grapple with the consequences of the drive for “more.” While places like Onondaga Lake are now receiving long overdue attention to rectify the environmental wrongs perhaps the larger question is, whether we know how much is enough. The effects of stripping the earth of natural resources without replenishment have been known for decades and yet, by and large, our actions continue unabated.
While Kimmerer is not prescriptive about what steps we should take to meaningfully reconnect with the natural world, she does sprinkle clues throughout the narrative. Reducing waste plays a large role. In addition to only taking what is needed, indigenous peoples strive to waste nothing, an acknowledgment of the sacrifice the animal or plant has made to give us nourishment, shelter, clothing, etc.
This is an action that is within the grasp of most individuals. Recycling, thrifting, composting, and much more can be incorporated into daily routines. Acknowledging that most of us are now used to modern conveniences and may be reluctant to give them up, Kimmerer also suggests taking action with our spending as indirect reciprocity, in support of sustainably-minded companies and local businesses.
In the era of COVID-19, many have sought distraction and comfort in outdoor activities like never before and along with it, an opportunity to help restore the relationship between land and people. Planting a garden, practicing sustainable foraging, contributing to the restoration or clean-up of forests or waterways can all contribute to the betterment of both our own well-being and that of the natural world.
Consistency, however, is key. In addition to making these activities regular habits, Kimmerer points to another critical component: civic engagement. When a fellow townsperson complains about a recent town hall decision, the town chair pointedly responds, “‘Show up at the damn meeting.’” There’s a limit to what purchasing power can do alone. After four years of an administration that seemed to go out of its way to neglect the environmental, the need to show up and be counted feels more necessary than ever before. We have the knowledge and the tools at our disposal. Now we need the collective will.
You can find Braiding Sweetgrass at independent booksellers, including Politics & Prose, Solid State Books, and Loyalty Bookstore.