Part 2 of 2. Climate Land Leaders’ Indigenous Advisor Teresa Peterson (Utuhu Cistinna Win) recently sat down with Executive Director Teresa Opheim to offer insights from a Native American perspective (printed here in bold). Utuhu Cistinna Win is author of the award-winning Perennial Ceremony: Lessons and Gifts from Dakota Garden. She is Sisseton Wahpeton Dakota and a citizen of the Upper Sioux Community, located in what is now Minnesota. 

You write that prairie plants maintain the “blood memory” of when the land was treated as a relative. In our world of increasing weather volatility, such as prolonged drought followed by intense rainfalls, how will the land’s blood memory respond?

I like to believe that Indigenous plants and animals by nature are resilient. Take for example when we remove invasives from a certain area, Native plants re-emerge. We have witnessed this when we’ve done prescribed burns, when we had goats come to eat buckthorn, and when we’ve done some clearing ourselves. Gooseberries, chokecherry, and other Native species have returned. A few years ago, we planted some bushes that are Native to this area. After the initial watering to get it established, the plants have survived, despite periods of no rain and too much rain. They even reappeared the following season after deer and rabbits gnawed them down to stubs. All of this shows resilience and adaptability. I think the question is more: In what ways will we tap into our blood memory, learn to adapt, and exercise resiliency in the face of climate change? 

You write in your book that we need to move beyond land acknowledgment statements and ask “what will be different?” Do you have examples where this is happening?

Coming from a childhood experience where Indigenous people were invisibilized in school and curricula, I was so excited when the land acknowledgement movement began. But soon we realized that much of it was performative and, at best, led with good intentions. However, good intentions rarely generate change. Thought and word ought to be followed by deed. There are some great examples of organizations, groups, and individuals across the nation whereby policies, practices, and actions are taking place that acknowledge the harm to Native peoples, recognize and honor Native peoples’ culture and knowledge. For example, Indigenous languages are uplifted, place names are being returned to Native origins, land is being returned, and other actions of reconciliation are being done. 

I was really proud to be a part of a land acknowledgement journey with Southwest Initiative Foundation as a board member and advisor for the process. With facilitation guidance from Native Ways Federation, we started with honest conversation by asking, why do we want to have a land acknowledgement statement? This led to a land, culture, and history learning journey in cooperation with the two local Native Nations. I believe we were a year in before we even started drafting a statement, which includes a commitment to actions like intentional grantmaking and social and economic development in cooperation with the tribes. In addition to the organization’s commitment, the Southwest Initiative Foundation land acknowledgement calls for action from everyone in the region to “learn the story of the land you call home,” as well as sharing a comprehensive resource hub for people to dive into. 

You come from a world view of prioritizing relationships over economics. From Perennial Ceremony: ”The notches on our relationship ruler include seven notches on each side of the present moment. This is based on our Dakota view of seven generations past and seven generations of the future. So we have a responsibility to our great-great-great-great-great grandchildren by considering the wisdom and teachings passed from our great-great-great-great-great grandparents.” Most of us have no idea who our ancestors were from even three generations ago. How do we get started?

I remember being in a community workshop years ago where the hot topic was early childhood and elder care. Everyone was talking about return on investment. It sort of made me feel sick. We, as a society, were commodifying our children and elders. Gaining or losing money was intended to be our motivator to care and support. Whether we have children or grandchildren that we think about when making decisions that will impact them, we must begin to remember that we are all relatives. It seems there is a strong desire to find connection with all the popular genealogy platforms. Belongingness is an innate yearning. Unfortunately, social media and technology can perpetuate isolation and individualism. 

One of the beautiful traditions in our Dakota communities is that we often use relational terms. We will call people auntie, uncle, grandmother, grandfather when addressing them, whether they are blood-related or not. I have found this prevalent in most Indigenous communities. Once when visiting with the people in Aotearoa [New Zealand], I felt so at home when they called me sister. Using relational terms is a way to show reverence and remind both parties about how to treat one another. Another way that we demonstrate relationality is, when introducing ourselves, by sharing who we belong to, where we come from, who our grandparents are. In that way, we are all striving to find our connections to each other. “Who’s your grandma? Oh, I know her.” “Oh gee, we’re cousins!”

I love this quote from your book: “In every moment, whether we like it or not and whether we know it or not, we are advancing values and influencing systems that will continue long past our lifetimes. These values and systems shape communities and lives that we will never see. The ways we live create and reinforce the foundation of life for future generations…. So how are we to live?”

Much of my life I’ve spent seeking, studying, and affirming belongingness. Each of us is unique and yet, we are not. We only have to look into the night sky to realize this. If we accept that we are all related and interdependent, we can begin to understand that what we do, we do to ourselves. I’m sure there’s an equivalent to Mitakuye Owasiƞ [all my relations] in other cultures. I was told once that “Sawubona,” the greeting from the Zulu, recognizes an equivalent understanding of togetherness – of mutual benefit and obligation. Being a good relative is our purpose here on Mother Earth. 

In our Initiative, Climate Land Leaders set yearly conservation goals. Thinking out about goals even 50 years is so hard, and we are terrified to think about what life will be like on Earth seven generations out. How do we begin to adopt such a long-term view?

Yes, we have a tendency to think we will always be here. It is very unlikely that I will still be here in 50 years, and I do try to think about how I will be remembered. I told the story of my great-great-grandmother Susbe to a group of students. During the 1862 war, she heroically saved her family and those traveling with them while they were fleeing to Canada. She was only about ten years old during this time when soldiers were shooting at her as she returned to a camp to retrieve bullets. I told the students that when I read this story about her, I thought about when I was about that age. I remember being called derogatory names because of my race and how it made me want to shrink away, be invisible. And that today, I have never forgotten the names of my tormentors. I also told them about how a white friend was quite my opposite; she stuck up for me during those difficult times. And that, too, I have never forgotten her to this day. Then I asked the students: How do you want to be remembered? To my surprise, this telling received a standing ovation – from kids. These young people understood legacy. 

So, yes it might be difficult to imagine we will one day not be here but perhaps we can ask how we want to be remembered. Perhaps that can help each of us to take the long view when making decisions. We can take this in many directions, but I hope that I am remembered as a lover of the land, a good cook, generous company, an optimist, resourceful – and a good relative. 

I think you are all of those! Your book bridges cultures. I know your descriptions brought back many memories of my Scottish-American grandmother. And yet – within two generations – most of us left that rural lifestyle of more self-sufficiency behind. Many chose to move to the cities and suburbs–to lessen the hard physical work, to get away from the lack of privacy in small communities, etc. Are we just waxing nostalgic about a time that is over?

I don’t think so. I have an Anishinaabe friend who truly believes we are in for some major changes in the not-so-distant future, and that the skills that support community-building and communal living will be far more valuable than money. We can get a glimpse of this need for localized triage and community support when we reflect on the pandemic, natural or climate related disasters, or war. I recently read Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower and while the book is sci-fi, I could see some of what was dramatized currently being played out. Certainly not everyone wants to or has the knack for growing food. However, we are all called to do something. 

I remember reading an article in the Winds of Change and asking my then father-in-law about a word. He shared that the word, wowaciƞye, translates as accountability. But it is more than that. It means we all were given gifts from the Creator and when we all do our part, we can live well together, in harmony. As I heard some of our elders share, some of us are the bakers, some of us are prayer warriors, and some of us can dance. I think the point here is what English poet John Donne shared, “no one is an island unto himself.” If we are going to survive, we must all understand the benefit and obligation of being a good relative. 

Lastly, if you haven’t had a fresh heirloom tomato from the garden – try it, you may discover or learn the talent of growing food to share. 

I am always astounded at how much plant and animal diversity can exist on even one acre. At the same time, I know we rely on our existing food system to a much greater extent than most of us who are local food advocates realize. Will you comment on that?

Oh gosh, yes. I joke that we could survive the zombie apocalypse with our stocked pantry of dried beans, corn, and all the foods we canned, dried, and froze. But the truth is that we still rely on the food system for essentials and love those non-essentials, like potato chips, as well. We all remember the broken food system during the pandemic with empty shelves as well as the waste from slaughtered hogs and dumping of milk with the lack of workers. Gardening and canning became the trend, which was lovely to witness, as well as the support lent across communities. I had hoped that more effort would be sustained in shifting to a local food system, but it seems as if we’ve moved on and are now worried about tariffs interfering with our electronics. 

How I see it is: Do what you can, what’s sustainable and that brings you joy. If it’s just planting some fresh herbs or having a tomato plant on your deck – do that. At the very least, it can serve as a reminder of where our food comes from. One can also find a local farmer’s market or sign up for a share in a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA). As a nutritious supplement, Iearn about the foods you can forage in your area – we may need them someday. I recently had a friend out for a land walk who does a lot of foraging. It is surprising how much is growing in our backyards or perhaps a park that we can gather from. Wild violets, nettle, dandelions, lambsquarter, purslane, and so much more. Of course we need to be sure chemicals have not been sprayed on them. 

Are you seeing a shift in acknowledging the contributions of Native land use and management?

Yes, I think so. Of course there are plenty of examples that disregard good practices. I only have to look around when driving to town to see how financial gain trumps healthy land management practices. But I also see examples where landowners are restoring prairie, planting trees, creating buffers between fields and waterways. I saw quite a bit of prescribed burns this past spring, and I noticed farmers keeping cover crops or crop residue in the fall instead of plowing and creating erosion.

I’m really encouraged by the Climate Land Leaders. Listening to them share their commitments and actions towards diversifying, planting perennials, rebuilding soil, diversifying crops, incorporating practices that foster resilience as we face the impacts of climate change, and creating opportunities for more diverse land stewards and farmers. However, I’m not oblivious to the challenges farmers and landowners face – our current systems and policies often uphold financial competitiveness over the care of Mother Earth.

Yet, there exists a growing movement that understands the peril we face when we don’t consider the rights of Mother Earth. The Universal Declaration of the Rights of Mother Earth is a global example. There are organizations and groups where community members can come together to clean up rivers, conduct bird counts, plant trees, forest bathe, paddle waterways, and in general feel a part of this growing movement. I have found being in community is an important aspect to this work to remain hopeful, optimistic, and it serves as a huge motivator for me to continue in the care and responsibility to our relative – the land. We have to remember, with movements there is always resistance and so we can’t give up.