Harvesting basket and scissors. (Groves, J. May 2020).
This story begins with grief. My family and I embarked on a six-month world trip in late December 2019. My husband and I had been saving and planning for years and were over the moon with excitement about introducing our children to a world bigger than our small town. In March, we suddenly went into military lockdown in Ecuador and were forced to ‘pause’ the rest of our trip and return home. After completing only half of the trip, I felt I had lost part of my purpose for this time. I love my home place, but it was not where I was supposed to be. I had to re-think and re-frame my purpose for myself. What to do with this gift of time in my home provided by the ‘global pause’? What I landed on was an opportunity to deepen my connection to this land. If I couldn’t be abroad learning in other places, landscapes and bioregions, then I must be here to learn my own. Purpose ignited. I suddenly found myself spending more time outside, observing, wondering, and keen to learn about parts of the more-than-human world that I had previously not paid much attention to. I’ve been trying to listen and speak the language of the more-than-human world and build a deeper understanding of our relationship.
One of the serendipitous alignments that happened for me was starting a book this Spring by Robin Wall Kimmerer entitled Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants. Kimmerer’s writing about plants spoke to me in a way I’d been searching for on my own, but without the mentor I craved. Her book has become a primary reference for me in my newfound knowledge and plant learning. My copy of the book already shows many signs of love—folded pages, ripples from bath and sea water splashes, a drop of black tea that has bled across the cover. The book is so wonderful, each of these tarnishes are a sign of my reverence for her writing.
Diving into other readings and videos this week on nature interconnection, I am struck by the ideas presented by Indigenous East coast elders on ‘two eyed seeing’ or ‘two ways of knowing’ (another writing by Kimmerer) (Tonino, 2016). As a guest on this land and an ally eager to help move this place toward decolonization and reconciliation, I am aware that I have so much to learn in order to be able to truly see. Listening to the land, and listening to the elders in this community to learn about their connection to the land, both feel like imperative first steps.
I decided to apply the ‘two ways of knowing’ in my approach to plant learning. Previous to reading the works of Kimmerer, my plant bible had been Pojar & MacKinnon’s Plants of Coastal British Columbia. It is an excellent science-based book on plants of my home place, and while there is reference to Indigenous uses of plants, the spiritual component of knowing and honouring plants is missing. I take this book with me on all outdoor excursions, keen to know the names and uses of the plants that surround me. One of my favourite tag games to play at school with my students is ‘Know your Neighbours tag’. I based this game on my Pojar & MacKinnon learning. I give a clue to students about a plant in our outdoor classroom, and they need to run to it in order to be ‘safe’ before I tag them. ‘You are safe if you are touching a plant that is native with dark purple berries’. The children squeal as they run off to find Trailing Blackberry. I want my students to know who the plants are, and what their uses are. But this has only been teaching them one way of knowing: the scientific way.
I am moved by this quote from Kimmerer:
‘…in order to enter academia and learn to understand plants and work with plants, I was in a sense colonized, assimilated into the scientific way of knowing. My notion that plants could be persons, could be teachers-that had to go; it had no place in academia at that time. I was taught that the land does not have a spirit. The land is made up of molecules that we can look at under the microscope. My professors colonized my mind: “This is the way you should think.”…It took me a long time to reclaim an Indigenous way of knowing, but that restoration has shaped my life’s work…’ (Tonino, 2016).
Two books worth knowing for two ways of knowing. (Groves, J. May 2020).
I do not want the work I do as a teacher to be as a colonizer of ideas around our relationship to plants and the more-than-human world. I want to be a part of decolonizing, and providing my students with access to the two ways of knowing. To do this, I need to start with my own learning.
This week as a part of building my nature affluence capacity, and own two ways of knowing, I decided to focus on one plant specifically-the Narrowleaf Plantain (also known as English Plantain or Ribwort). Commonly referred to as a ‘weed’, Narrowleaf Plantain grows in disturbed areas all over the coastline. A plant with robust edible and medicinal uses, it is generally ignored by humans. However, when ‘we see that all living things are connected even when the exact links are invisible or hidden from view’, we can begin to know the ways in which we are in relation with each living being surrounding us (Williams & Brown, 2012).
The combination of this gift of time, passion to get to know this land and a drive to be more resilient in times of global crisis, led me to the practice of an Honourable Harvest of the Narrowleaf Plantain. The Honourable Harvest is an Indigenous term explained by Kimmerer in her writing.
‘…collectively, the Indigenous canon of principles and practice that govern the exchange of life for life is known as the Honourable Harvest. They are rules of sorts that govern our taking, shape our relationships with the natural world, and rein in our tendency to consume—that the world might be rich for the seventh generation as it is for our own…’ (Kimmerer, 2013).
My goal this week was to build my relationship with Narrow Leaf Plantain and learn to make medicine from the leaves. Following the Honourable Harvest guidelines, here is a recount of how the practice of harvesting went for me.
1.Know the ways of the ones who take care of you, so that you make take care of them.
I’ve been observing and learning Narrowleaf Plantain for years now on a more relaxed scale. Resilient and strong, Plantain can grow almost anywhere, which is why it is thought to be a weed. At school if a child scrapes their knee, we turn to Plantain first to disinfect and take the sting away.
Plantain growing in a yard. (Groves, J. May 2020).
2. Introduce yourself. Be accountable as the one who comes asking for life.
In the wild space I found myself looking to harvest, I tried to be as humble as I could in introducing myself. I let the plants know who I am, and why I had come. I had to work through my anthropocentric thoughts and be open to my connection and relationship to the plants.
3. Ask permission before taking. Abide by the answer.
I asked each Plantain plant I approached for permission. I tried my hardest to listen to the answer. Was the plant speaking to me? This is where my deeply colonized brain struggled. Am I crazy to think I will hear an answer? What can my deeper connection to these plants be? I looked for clues that the plant was healthy, happy and thriving. Then I made my cuts, hoping I had been right, that the plant had indeed said yes. I see where I need to work to know in the Indigenous way.
4. Never take the first. Never take the last.
I didn’t take from the first plant I saw on my walk. I wanted to be certain I would indeed find Narrowleaf Plantain in abundance on my walkabout. I did, and harvested from multiple plants, but neither the first nor the last.
5. Take only what you need.
I cross referenced a number of recipes for Plantain salve before I harvested. The maximum amount I was required to have to make a batch of salve was two cups of fresh leaves. That was what I took. No more, no less.
The perfect harvest. (Groves, J. May 2020).
6. Take only that which is given.
Again, difficult for me to decide if it was given to me or not. I can see in myself that this is the work I need to do to build my two ways of knowing. In using my observational skills of the health of the plant, I decided that Plantain currently surrounds where I live in abundance and I could take that which was given.
7. Never take more than half. Leave some for others.
I took a minimal amount of leaves and left some for all to enjoy, including some neighbours who were curious about what I was doing and ended up learning alongside me. Each time I harvested a leaf, I stepped back from the plant to be sure it still looked as though it hadn’t been affected.
8. Harvest in a way that minimizes harm.
I used my knowledge of harvesting to carefully remove leaves, with a small clip at the end of the stalk, gently leaving the rest of the plant untouched.
Making the cut. (Groves, J. May 2020).
9. Use it respectfully. Never waste what you have taken.
My plan is to use the salve to stock my summer first aid kit. As we are out on backcountry trips for long portions of the summer, a strong medicine to deal with scrapes and topical skin wounds as well as insect stings and bites is critical. I will be so grateful for this medicine for my family and myself.
10. Share.
I intend on giving bottles of the salve to friends and family. I also intend to share my knowledge, with all of you, and my students in the fall.
11. Give thanks for what you have been given.
I feel so grateful for this plant. A statement in chapter three of the book Indigenous Perspectives on Education for Well-Being in Canada reflected my gratitude. I made an assumption that the author’s would have referred to harvesting medicine in a similar manner.
“…Developing a relationship with food as a spiritual process was described by a participant: “It wasn’t the food itself that was important; it was what we did with it, how we interacted with it, how we learned about it, and how we were thankful for it. It became a spiritual process.”
When food harvesting, preparation, and consumption contain an element of ceremony and spirituality, a different kind of intention becomes embodied. Careful consideration of techniques, and an appreciation for the broader connections between food, land, and past and future generations become a part of the connection to food…” (Deer & Falkenberg, 2017).
12. Give a gift, in reciprocity for what you have taken.
I was taught by an Indigenous educator at my school to leave some of your hair as an offering if you don’t carry tobacco. I left some of my hair as a gift of gratitude to the plants for their gift of life.
Leaving an offering. (Groves, J. May 2020).
13. Sustain the ones who sustain you and the earth will last forever.
I am really learning to pay attention to the two ways of knowing, taking care of that which sustains me. One way I do this with plants like Plantain is by sharing my knowledge with others, so they also see the interconnection between us and the plants we tend to ignore.
Plantain among the grasses. (Groves, J. May 2020).
This experience has provided a salve for the grief I have been working to overcome by coming back to Canada suddenly and unexpectedly. I feel it is also gently helping to heal some of my ecological grief and sadness around what colonization has done to the Indigenous way of knowing. I intend on expanding this learning for myself over the course of the next few months, hoping to emulate two ways of knowing as a person and an educator.
References:
Deer, F., & Falkenberg, T. (Editors). (2017). Indigenous perspectives on education for well-being in Canada. Winnipeg: Education for Sustainable Well-Being Press.
Williams, D.R. & Brown, J.D. (Editors). (2012). Learning Gardens and Sustainability Education: Bringing Life to Schools and Schools to Life. New York: Routledge.
Kimmerer, R. (2013). Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants. Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions.
Pojar, J. & MacKinnon, A. (Editors). (2014). Plants of Coastal British Columbia: Including Washington, Oregon and Alaska. Edmonton: B.C. Ministry of Forests, Partners Publishing and Lone Pine Publishing.
Tonino, L. (2016, April). Two Ways of Knowing: Robin Wall Kimmerer on Scientific and Native American Views of the Natural World. Retrieved from https://www.thesunmagazine.org/issues/484/two-ways-of-knowing
Mommypotamus. (2020). Plantain Salve Recipe. (Homemade First Aid Ointment). Retrieved From https://mommypotamus.com/plantain-salve-recipe/
Ravensong Seeds and Herbals. (2020). Narrowleaf Plantain. Retrieved from http://ravensongherbals.com/herbs/plantain-narrowleaf
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