Navigating the Waters of Ecological Innovation: A Conversation with Erin English on Integrated Water Strategies and Biophilic Design

Water is a fundamental component intricately interwoven with the fabric of our ecosystems, communities, and civilizations. As we grapple with the profound implications of climate change, urbanization, and unsustainable practices, the imperative to reimagine our relationship with water has never been more pressing. A key strategist in this pivotal paradigm shift is Erin English, a visionary leader in the field of Integrated Water Strategies. With a unique blend of expertise in chemical and environmental engineering, Erin embodies a passionate commitment to fostering innovation, sustainability, and ecological stewardship in water infrastructure planning and design.

Bioneers caught up with Erin to discuss her work, favorite projects, and vision for ecological restoration.

Erin English

BIONEERS: Drawing from your extensive experience in studying water systems and their interconnectedness with other systems, what key message would you prioritize for audiences to grasp about water overall?

ERIN ENGLISH, PRACTICE LEADER AT BIOHABITATS: I feel like the little bit of time I spent at Standing Rock really elevated the call that water is life. And that’s it. That is the essence of what everyone needs to know about water. Although that is a deceptively simple statement, it is a lifetime of study to come to discover how that can be used in our lives in a way that honors that fact.

BIONEERS: Could you elaborate on the transition you experienced when shifting from the extractive engineering focus typically offered to another engineering focus?

ERIN: I did study chemical engineering in college by conscious choice. I did not know when I signed up for that that it was so focused on oil and what you do with oil. I did not realize chemical engineering was actually birthed from taking oil and turning it into the millions of things that we use it for. Although I was studying chemical engineering, I had no illusions nor intentions to ever actually be a chemical engineer. However, I had to endure the educational process and the realization that certain aspects of that field did not align with my interests.

In the mid-1990s, when I was in college, the environmental engineering program did not seem quite strong enough to me. The chemical engineering program had a stronger basis in science, and I was able to choose to study fuels and energy so that I knew how to undermine that work, move around it, or work with it. So it was a little bit of a pathway of resistance, arming myself with the knowledge of the chemical processing industry, the fuel processing industry, the oil and gas industry, polymers and plastics.

I was unsure at that time which environmental direction I would take it, but I had intended to be in the environmental field for the whole time. That was my plan.

When I met biologist and ecological designer Dr. John Todd in college, I had an opening to work directly with him as a student and to go to some lectures. Dr. Todd brought a very basic, profound statement: When you allow life the opportunity to organize itself and to introduce bacteria and microorganisms to a pollutant in a controlled, safe way, they will adapt, and that system will grow, that system will evolve, and it will essentially engineer itself.

That was the moment when I found what it was I wanted to do with my very convenient process engineering background. I wanted to be able to move toward the biological, creating the systems and the opportunities for ecology and biology to create themselves.

The profound shift that I had in discovering the work of John Todd was that if you build it, they will come. If you create the space, allow the time, and create the conditions conducive to life, organisms can arrange themselves in a way to help us with the problems that we have to solve. 

As an engineer, I saw that as mostly a one-way street: They will help us. But as I’ve grown up and had more opportunities to understand the systems, I’ve learned that we have the potential as communities to be in more reciprocal relationships. When we’re designing ecological water systems, we can uplift habitat for other creatures. We can create spaces that are not only cleaning water but that are also drawing in a diversity of pollinators and that are becoming spaces for birds and for refuge.

From my perspective, some of the greatest potential of ecological engineering is in a co-creative process where we are designing for non-humans of all sorts – plants, animals, bacteria – and welcoming them back into urban settings or places where they might not have had a refuge.

BIONEERS: Can you give us an example of when that co-creation with life has really excited you?

ERIN: One of the more co-creative projects that I’ve had the honor to be involved with is the transformation of an old, outdated, and abandoned wastewater treatment plant outside of Portland, Oregon, called Fern Hill Treatment Wetlands in Forest Grove. They had abandoned their 90 acres of treatment lagoons, which are a bit of an outdated technology. They had built a more modern wastewater treatment plant, but the water from that treatment plant was too warm to discharge right into the river, which was supporting cold water fish.

They had the option to invest a lot of money, energy, electricity, and carbon into a chiller, which is a big machine that cools water and has a very large energy footprint. Or they had the idea of putting those 90 acres to work as a treatment wetland that was re-engineered to cool the water before it went to the river.

The studies were done, and we modeled to make sure that the temperature could be reduced reliably. We also recognized that we had a massive bird population, some of which had already been coming to these lagoons. We had an active community who wanted access to paths that they had already self-created around some of these lagoons. We wanted to be able to enhance and buffer the effluent from the wastewater plant to also remove more nutrients, metals, and contaminates of emerging concern that can cause harm if released back into the river. 

Through this project, we were able to re-contour, redesign, and plant millions of native species in 90 acres of wetland ponds and create different habitats.

This is now the only wastewater treatment plant that I know of that has a TripAdvisor page. And when you go to the TripAdvisor page for the Fern Hill Wetland, the quotes are all about, “I come here to meditate,” “I love this bird sanctuary,” “I come here because it’s peaceful and quiet, and this is a place for humans and birds,” and it’s also a place for wastewater to be transformed and buffered before it’s returned.

BIONEERS: Can you tell us what the term “biophilic” means, as in “biophilic design”?

ERIN: Biophilic is a term, for me, that means recognizing and honoring our connection to the natural world and welcoming it back. Biophilia as a concept has emerged in different forms, and there are different formal definitions, but they almost all relate to this idea of humans’ innate affiliation with nature and with other forms of life. There’s mention of a natural pleasure that we receive from being surrounded by living organisms and by nature.

The use of biophilia and the understanding of how to integrate it into design is called biophilic design. Only recently have I seen biophilic design included in conversations within the design world. 

Most people who have a background in landscape architecture or environmental design, or in environmental engineering or science, have knowledge of this, because many of the projects that we’re working with have elements of nature associated with them. So the beauty of it is it’s not a big leap for most designers to make. I believe even architects happen to lead with biophilic design often because they’re integrating these connections with nature into the buildings themselves.

It’s really important to understand that biophilia and biophilic design are completely democratic, available, and decentralized for everyone. There is no special skill or even real training that you need to be able to use biophilic design. It’s something that we all have in us. I’m really drawn to it because it can’t be claimed by any one firm or any one discipline.

BIONEERS: Where are you making an effort to prioritize biophilic design?

ERIN: I plan to start with my own staff and team. As a firm, we have a mission around restoring the Earth and inspiring stewardship. It’s always good practice for us to check back in with our team to make sure that we’re remembering what it is that we’re doing when we’re in the midst of consulting and design. That biophilic design check-in with our own team will help us embed the work at the ground level with these projects.

We also have the great fortune of doing a lot of work within the Living Building Challenge and the community of owners, clients, designers, and teams who are yearning for projects that are profound in how they affect the people who use them. 

BIONEERS: All obstacles aside, what is your vision for ecological restoration broadly?

ERIN: My hope and intention for the ecological restoration realm, or, as some people call it, the restoration economy, is to help people see that everything we do is already dependent upon natural systems. Everything we have comes from natural systems and from the Earth. We must recognize that we can only push those systems to such limits. We are already seeing the consequences of that disconnection.

Right now there is an opportunity to highlight the fact that restoring our ecosystems happens to be one of our main tools for addressing the climate crisis. Although technology and ingenuity will contribute, realigning ourselves and redirecting our energies toward restoring our natural infrastructure is one of the best climate solutions, and to me, that’s tremendously exciting.

The benefit of doing that carries so many other benefits. It helps with re-wilding. It helps bring nature back into our urban spaces. It helps people feel more connected to the benefits of being close to living systems. From a water perspective, restoring natural infrastructure and using ecological engineering to do that allows us to filter and clean water while restoring wilder wetland spaces, by reducing the amount of energy and carbon it takes to treat water and re-imagining how our gray infrastructure.

BIONEERS: Could you share any insights about addressing the substantial impact of industrial agriculture in the United States? Are there any specific projects or initiatives you’re involved in or aware of that aim to restore these systems and foster life within depleted areas?

ERIN: While we wait for what I hope to be the transition to a fully regenerative agricultural system, we need bridges to provide refuge and corridors for creatures and buffers for managing water. Although I don’t think we will have a clean Mississippi or intact wildlife corridors until we transform the agricultural system, I do think there are some interim bridging techniques that ecologists and others have created to identify the high-value habitats and ensure they aren’t destroyed. They’re also finding ways to connect them to more of themselves and finding places to target our restoration dollars and energies so that those corridors can be put into place as interim measures.

Although I’m absolutely a proponent of managing water wisely and providing opportunities and safety for wildlife, we have to be very careful. There’s not a lot of ecological knowledge within the design community yet. We hope to be an honest voice that reflects what’s feasible and pushes for projects that have more capacity to be meaningful.

The Promise of Restorative Justice: Insights from Leading Advocates

In this week’s newsletter, we’re diving into the transformative power of restorative justice. In a society in which purely punitive legal systems very often perpetuate cycles of harm, restorative justice offers a hopeful alternative rooted in healing, accountability and bringing communities together in the mediation of conflict.

Join us as we explore a range of different aspects of the restorative justice movement shared by several leading figures who are seeking new, far more enlightened approaches to criminal justice: architect Deanna Van Buren, activists and attorneys Fania Davis and Claudia Peña, the late exemplary young organizer Cameron Simmons, and formerly incarcerated author, poet, MacArthur Fellow, and founder of Freedom Reads, Reginald Dwayne Betts.


Want more news like this? Sign up for the Bioneers Pulse to receive the latest news from the Bioneers community straight to your inbox.


Achieving Equity in the Built Environment | Deanna Van Buren

In this video, architect Deanna Van Buren illustrates her lifelong commitment to ending mass incarceration by building infrastructure that addresses its root causes. She shares how her studio works to counter the traditional adversarial and punitive architecture that characterizes our legal system by creating spaces and buildings that enable restorative justice, community building, and housing for people coming out of incarceration.

Watch now


Restorative Justice: From Harm to Healing | Fania Davis & Cameron Simmons

The restorative justice movement has boldly shown that arresting the cycle of youth violence and incarceration early can lead to significant changes. In this podcast episode, restorative justice leaders Fania Davis and Cameron Simmons describe the incredibly effective work being done to transform schools and juvenile justice policies in Oakland, California, and around the country.

Listen now


Claudia Peña at Bioneers 

Bioneers 2024 speaker Claudia Peña is the founding co-director of the Center for Justice at UCLA, home of the Prison Education Program. The program creates innovative courses that enable faculty and students to learn from and alongside currently incarcerated participants, allowing all involved to challenge bias, discrimination, and injustice in a shared and collaborative learning experience. 

Register for Bioneers 2024 to hear Peña’s keynote presentation about how the mass incarceration system has wreaked havoc on our society and what we can do to amend it.

Learn more


Watch Calls from Home at Bioneers 2024

Join us at Bioneers 2024 for several screenings of cutting-edge documentaries, including “Calls from Home.” In an intimate portrait of rural prison expansion, “Calls from Home” documents WMMT-FM’s longstanding radio show that sends familial messages of love over public airwaves to reach people incarcerated in Central Appalachia. For many, the show is a lifeline to the world outside. Directed by Sylvia Ryerson, a former DJ for the show, the film portrays the many forms of distance that rural prison building creates — and the ceaseless search to end this system of racialized mass incarceration and family separation.

Register here


House of Unending | Reginald Dwayne Betts

“I think part of the loneliness that comes with being incarcerated and motivates us to do the work of building libraries in prison is that we’re sort of singing into the darkness.” – Reginald Dwayne Betts

In a conversation with Interview Magazine, MacArthur fellow and founder of Freedom Reads Reginald Dwayne Betts talks about his new album of poems, “House of Unending,” which shares his incarceration experience, the dark realities of prison life and the injustices many Black men face.

Read more


Upcoming Bioneers Learning Courses & Community Conversations

Through engaging courses and conversations led by some of the world’s foremost movement leaders, Bioneers Learning and Community Conversations equip engaged citizens and professionals like you with the knowledge, tools, resources, and networks to initiate or deepen your engagement, leading to real change in your life and community.

Upcoming Bioneers Learning Courses:

Upcoming Community Conversations:

  • Youth Activism: A Conversation on Youth Led Movements and Actions | March 13 | What does youth-led activism look like? What role should youth voices play in movements? Join Zain Khemani, Lauryn Smith, and Nazshonnii Brown-Almaweri in this community conversation if you are curious about how youth are paving the way or looking for inspiration.
  • More coming soon!

New Study Solves Long-Standing Mystery of Starfish Body Structure

Looking at a starfish, you would not necessarily suppose it is a close relative of humans, nor that before it develops into the five-pointed creature we are familiar with, it has a body structure resembling our own. 

A new study published in Nature has solved a long-standing mystery for biologists about the development of starfish, or sea stars, and their body layout, revealing that the entire sea star body, including its five “arms,” is actually better described as a head. Through a process that uses genetic and molecular tools to map out their body regions, researchers were able to study how sea stars transform from a bilateral organism (the head-to-toe symmetry also found in humans) in their larval form into a creature with fivefold symmetry that is unique in the animal kingdom. One of these microscopy images is the featured image for the Bioneers 2024 Conference. 

“For more than a century, biologists have been really puzzled by how this five-axis body evolved from bilateral symmetry, and how can you compare an animal with five axes like a sea star to their biological relatives, such as us,” said postdoctoral scholar Laurent Formery, the lead author on the study. 

Formery said the findings not only give us new knowledge about the development and body structure of the sea star but also a window into how evolution has led to such vast differences among species. 

“By conducting these types of analyses on a range of animals, you can progressively reconstruct the story of animal evolution,” he said. “That’s important because that’s also telling us where we come from.”

Images of a sea star’s transition from larvae with a bilateral (symmetric across the midline) body plan into young adult sea stars with a five-point star shape called a pentaradial body plan. (Image credit: Laurent Formery)

Though they have vastly different systems from our own, sea stars and other echinoderms — which include sea urchins, sand dollars, and sea cucumbers — are closely related to humans. A better understanding of their body plans and development can provide insight into how other animals may have evolved and arrived at their different features. The study found that the center of the sea star, as well as the center of each “arm,” has a region that actually functions like a head, with a tail-like region along the perimeter, lacking a region in between that functions like a trunk. In that way, Formery said the study found the sea star is essentially a head without a body — a notion even he admits feels disconcerting. 

“When you look at a sea star, you’re basically looking at a head-like animal and it’s missing the entire trunk,” Formery said. “It seems that during evolution, this group of animals, the echinoderms, have re-engineered the anterior part of their body into a pentaradial configuration instead of developing into a head and trunk organism like most other animals do.”

To arrive at their findings, Formery and the others involved in the study used genetic and molecular tools to create a 3-D map of the sea star’s gene expression and nervous system. The mapping process creates three-dimensional renderings of the sea star’s internal structure, resulting in arresting images of the sea star’s internal structure. One of these images, which shows the nervous system of a juvenile sea star, won the 2023 Evident Global Scientific Light Microscopy Award. 

Muscles and nervous system of juvenile sea urchin. Credit: Laurent Formery / Image courtesy of Evident’s Image of the Year Competition.

Formery said that as part of a technique called immunostaining, antibodies coupled to a fluorescent molecule are used to recognize particular proteins involved in making neurons, allowing components of the nervous system to be directly observed under a fluorescent microscope. The microscope has the ability to observe thin layers of the sea star, and by designating those layers with different colors, a 2-D image or 3-D mapping is developed. The result is a multi-layered image of the seastar’s nervous system that shows its complexity in striking rainbow hues.

Formery hopes the sea star images’ ability to grab the viewer’s attention will bring more focus to the organisms and their importance to the ocean ecosystem. For animals like sea stars, that attention is sometimes hard to come by. 

“There is a strong bias in conservation efforts toward nice looking animals, so everybody cares about pandas, and nobody cares about random worms that are as endangered and as important,” he said. 

Formery emphasized that though sea stars may appear somewhat inert when observed in their habitat, this belies the crucial roles they play in their ecosystem, such as helping preserve kelp forests. 

“They’re actually the predators of their environment,” Formery said. “…Sea stars prey on a lot of sea urchins and mussels, so when you remove them, it’s a big problem for the kelp forest because then the sea urchins just explode — and they eat everything.” 

While the point of Formery’s microscopy work is to advance research on sea stars and other echinoderms, that beauty can sometimes result is not lost on him. By selecting particular colors to represent the various layers, he also has a hand in the visual effect. The colors, though, simply serve to illuminate the inherent beauty of the sea star.

“Sometimes you just get very beautiful samples, when the shape is perfect, undamaged, and looks exactly as you’d like it to look,” Formery said. 

The study, “Molecular evidence of anteroposterior patterning in adult echinoderms,” was published in the Nov. 1, 2023, issue of “Nature.” Formery is a postdoc in the labs of Christopher Lowe at the Stanford School of Humanities and Sciences and Daniel S. Rokhsar at the University of California, Berkeley. Lowe is also a researcher at Hopkins Marine Station and senior author of the paper.


Header image credit: LiPo Ching / Stanford University

Research Technique Creates Striking Image of Sea Star Nervous System

Though the beauty of a sea star’s nervous system was incidental to postdoctoral scholar Laurent Formery’s research on their development and evolution, its power is not lost on him. His microscopy image of a juvenile sea star’s nervous system is featured as a primary part of the composite image being used for the Bioneers 2024 Conference. The image won the 2022 Evident Global Scientific Light Microscopy Award and made the cover of “Nature” as part of his recently published study. In the image, each layer of the sea star’s nervous system is represented by a different color, resulting in an arresting rainbow-hued rendering of its internal workings. While the study that produced the image has its own compelling findings, Formery said that the attention-grabbing visuals produced by the microscopy process certainly benefit the research. 

“Microscopy is fantastic for this because if you look at the Nikon Small World or the Olympus Microscopy Awards, there are so many absolutely gorgeous pictures,” Formery said. “I just appreciate microscopy a lot. I think you can do really interesting things. And, while it’s not necessary, of course, it is good to be able to make insightful science that also happens to be nice looking.” 

In the following conversation, Formery speaks with Bioneers President Teo Grossman about the role beauty plays in his research on sea stars and other echinoderms. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

TEO GROSSMAN: What is your specific field of research?

LAURENT FORMERY: I’m a trained developmental biologist, so my overall approach is to understand how one cell can give rise to a complete organism that has three dimensions and all the complexity that comes with life. What I’m doing now really is more evolutionary biology, and so I would say my current research is really trying to understand how we have animals that look so different. What happened during evolution to make that possible? 

There are two ways you can think about this problem. One way is to go look for fossils and try to reconstruct the story of evolution to understand how animal diversification happened. But you cannot do that for everything because there are a lot of animals that just don’t fossilize. For those cases, we turn to the lab and the field of molecular biology. We explore similarities and differences in related organisms at a genetic and molecular level for mechanisms such as how their bodies might develop from eggs, for example. By making these comparisons, we can begin to make inferences about the evolution of these animals in deep time. By conducting these types of analyses on a range of animals, you can progressively reconstruct the story of animal evolution. That’s important because that’s also telling us where we come from, basically. I’m focusing on a particular group of animals called the echinoderms, to which sea stars belong, together with other animals like sea urchins or sea cucumbers. 

TEO: What are we actually seeing in the photo that Bioneers is using as the conference image this year? 

LAURENT: You’re seeing the nervous system of a very small sea star that’s about one centimeter in width. So it’s a baby sea star. The species is a bat star, which is an orange sea star species that is very common on the West Coast. Most people assume that sea stars don’t have a very complicated nervous system and that they aren’t very complex animals. But actually, when you look at it, you realize that they have an incredibly complex nervous system.

From a technical perspective, the image was made using a technique called immunostaining. We use antibodies that recognize a particular protein. In that case, the protein we target is involved in making neurons. These protein-recognizing antibodies are coupled to a fluorescent molecule that can be seen with a fluorescent microscope. 

The challenge with that particular image is that sea stars are completely opaque and the microscope cannot see through opaque tissues. We had to develop a technique in the lab to make the tissue completely transparent, which was kind of a fun process, and that’s really what allowed us to make this type of image. 

TEO:  These are colors you introduced, is that correct? I’m wondering if they represent anything inherent in the organism?

LAURENT: Yes. The colors are completely artificial. The microscope that I use is a microscope that makes very thin layers of images that stack on top of each other. We can scan a number of these into a sample, creating a series of pictures, basically. In the end, what we get is a stack of images that can be visualized in 3D or we can merge everything together into a 2D image. What I did in this case is assign each of the layers its own color, so when they merge together, the result is this kind of rainbow feature. It’s showing you the distance or the depth of the information in your sample.

TEO: It’s like a topographic representation of the sea star.

LAURENT: Yes, exactly. I believe I think the red is close to you and the blue is far away from you. You’re looking at the sea star from the above. 

TEO: So this is like an MRI machine, basically, taking slices and then reproducing a 3D image.

LAURENT: The idea is the same, but I think the MRI, you’re looking at tissue density versus here we’re just looking at a fluorescent molecule that we have introduced in the tissue. 

TEO: Is this process of taking the images, restacking and coloring them part of the process of the research you do anyway, with the striking image a beautiful side result of the endeavor? Or are you up late playing with these images in your spare time, outside of the research objectives?

Muscles and nervous system of juvenile sea urchin. Credit: Laurent Formery / Image courtesy of Evident’s Image of the Year Competition.

LAURENT: In my research, I spend a lot of time doing microscopy, and sometimes you just get very beautiful samples, when the shape is perfect, undamaged, and looks exactly as you’d like it to look. In these cases, I just do a longer acquisition to make a very beautiful image. So yes, it’s a side product of the research project. 

TEO: Did you have to do any post-production in Photoshop afterward, or is this more or less how it came out?

LAURENT: It’s more or less what came out of the microscope, but I think I did change a little bit, like the color scale, in Photoshop. 

TEO: In my time at Bioneers, I’ve talked to many scientists about the relationship between the actual research they are engaged in and their beliefs and feelings as a person. “Beauty” is not necessarily a scientific term nor a research goal but you’ve created this and many other truly beautiful and striking images in the course of your work as a scientist. I’m curious what you make of the relationship between the beauty of the imagery and the scientific goals of your research, the history of life on Earth, from single-celled organisms to the diversity of life on Earth today. 

LAURENT: I think it’s not something every researcher appreciates, really, but I just find that the animals I’m working with are beautiful. I always try to do them justice somehow.

In terms of research, it really helps if you’re producing nice visuals because people are drawn to that. And microscopy is fantastic for this because if you look at the Nikon Small World or the Olympus Microscopy Awards, there are so many absolutely gorgeous pictures. I just appreciate microscopy a lot. I think you can do really interesting things. And, while it’s not necessary, of course, it is good to be able to make insightful science that also happens to be nice looking. 

TEO: Laurent, part of what you’re doing in terms of the microscopy here is continuing and contributing to a long legacy of botanical drawing and natural history illustration. 

LAURENT: That’s a compliment, so thank you. I really love all those botanical and zoological drawings. I have this giant book from Ernst Haeckel with all these drawings of microorganisms that are absolutely gorgeous. He was a controversial guy, but the drawings are just breathtaking. 

TEO: Right. John Audubon has a similarly complicated legacy as an illustrator. The Bioneers Conference has utilized Ernst Haeckel’s drawings numerous times over the years. 

Laurent, it’s been a pleasure talking with you. The images are so beautiful and striking, and we’re really honored to be using them as part of the 2024 Bioneers Conference.

Secret Harvests: An Excerpt From Organic Farmer Mas Masumoto’s Latest Book

In his latest book, which has been chosen as a finalist for the National Book Critics Award, Mas Masumoto tells the story of his Japanese American family that was separated by racism and the discrimination against people with developmental disabilities, and how they are reunited seventy years later, returning to their roots on his farm.

Excerpted from Secret Harvests: A Hidden Story of Separation and the Resilience of a Family Farm by David Mas Masumoto (Red Hen Press, 2023). Reprinted with permission from the publisher. Secret Harvests has been chosen as a finalist  for the National Book Critics Award.

The Call—I Thought I Knew My Family

February 2012

Shizuko is sick, sick to death with this long agony. She lays still, her ninety year-old body motionless. Her wheelchair sits empty. A head pokes in, checking. Waiting for her to die? Or do they look because they care? A roommate whines in the next bed, but Shizuko should be the one requesting help. Now a stroke. Senses leave her body. Rest. The sentence complete. Sleep. Alone again, naturally.

Shizuko was assigned to hospice after spending thirteen years in Golden Cross Nursing Home. Before, she was housed at various state-run institutions, the type you’d see in movies with hundreds of forlorn bodies wandering long, dingy white hallways and rows and rows of beds. For decades, she roamed these halls ceaselessly. She outlived all her roommates.

Her family came as immigrants, picked peaches and grapes in the fields of California, found poverty and racism and yet stayed while struggling to build something. Shizuko avoided the Japanese American internment camps of World War II because she was classified as “retarded,” a derogatory term unfortunately commonly used in the past. Her life was branded with confusion.

A tiny woman, a little over four feet tall and weighing only seventy pounds, she was in constant motion, always relentlessly moving, seemingly endlessly active. Even when limited to a wheelchair, she could be left alone, content to shuffle throughout the structures, paddling the floor with her brightly colored, tiny, kid’s tennis shoes. A life of pain, illness, separation, departure, and return. Like a ghost, perpetually searching for stolen time.

A phone message from the Wildrose Funeral Home. A solicitation call? I dislike and distrust the phone—I farm, work with dirt, orchards and vineyards stretching along the horizon. I talk more to peaches than people because the trees pretend to listen. I find comfort and order in vine rows: their history I understand and accept.

I grew up in a home where phone calls were supposed to be for important exchanges. I can recall my grandmother Masumoto panicking with the sharp ring, ring, ring of the phone, yelling in pidgin Japanese, “Te-re-fon! Te-re-fon!”The rattling clamor followed by the brittle vibration that seemed to linger in the air triggered memories and emotions in her, a feeling I seemed to have inherited. Phone calls typically delivered bad news—like the call you get in the middle of the night that elicits a sick feeling that tightens your stomach.

But a bulletin from a funeral home? I’m too young. But the voice then asks for ”Carole Sugimoto,”  my mom with her maiden name.

I return the call, ready to hang up with the first pitch. Instead, they inquire if Carole is related to a “Shizuko.”

“Who?”

I pause. I vaguely recall hearing of a mysterious aunt with “a mental problem,” as the family described and no one talked about. I was told that she had died in her youth, part of the Great Depression era when life was messy, especially for the poor.

The woman on the phone continues. She is “searching for next of kin and discovered Carole from your father’s obituary.”

“What? Who?” I think to myself. I’m confused, uneasy about a stranger talking about my family. Her voice makes me feel uncomfortable. I want to hang up.

“Shizuko Sugimoto, your mom’s sister, born in 1919.” The voice on the phone then adds, “Institutionalized at various facilities.”

I had once heard a story about some state mental institution and this forgotten aunt. But that aunt had passed long, long ago. Gone for seventy years. This news is disruptive and disturbing, a departure from my understanding of family. This simply does not make sense: is there a twisted riddle in my family’s past and can I trust this call?

”Shizuko is in Fresno, a few miles from your home and peaches and vineyards,” the telephone voice continues. “She’s alive, barely.”

A Peach Farmer’s Quest for Significance and Survival: An Interview with Mas Masumoto

Mas Masumoto is an organic farmer and author of 14 books including Epitaph for a Peach, the story of how an old heirloom peach had fallen out of favor in the marketplace and forced Mas to make some difficult decisions.

He now farms in partnership with his daughter Nikiko, a 3rd generation Central Valley farmer, growing organic peaches, raisin grapes, nectarines and apricots on 80 acres. As a college student at UC Berkeley, Masamoto had absolutely no interest in following in his father’s footsteps as a farmer until, in search of his family roots, he worked on a relative’s rice farm in Japan. That experience reinforced his identity as a Japanese American and kindled a desire to return to his family farm in Del Rey, California.  

Mas Masamoto’s writing awards include a Commonwealth Club Silver medal, Julia Child Cookbook award, the James Clavell Literacy Award and a finalist in the James Beard Foundation awards. Wisdom of the Last Farmer was honored as “Best Environmental Writing in 2009” by the National Resources Defense Council. In 2013, President Obama appointed Masumoto to the National Council on the Arts, the board for the National Endowment for the Arts. His latest book Secret Harvests, is a finalist in The National Book Critics Award.

Masumoto was interviewed by Bioneers’ Arty Mangan at the EcoFarm Conference

ARTY MANGAN: When you were younger you worked on a rice farm in Japan.

MAS MASUMOTO: I went as an exchange student from Berkeley to Tokyo. I was there for a number of months. In America, Roots was being shown on TV, so I wanted to go back to my roots, which was a small village in southern Japan, Takamura, outside of Kumamoto. I ended up spending six months of my student exchange working on the rice farm of my relatives. It was just marvelous to live in the farmhouse that my grandmother was raised in and had left 80 years earlier and never come back to.

Growing up, I ate rice every day, but I had no idea how it was grown. The experience made me realize that I’m not Japanese, I’m Japanese-American. And that made me contemplate going back to the farm in America.

ARTY: Another part of your family history was their relocation to internment camps. Like most Japanese at the time, your family was forcibly removed from their homes and incarcerated in internment camps during World War II for no other reason than they were of Japanese descent.

MAS:  My parents – who had been born in America as American citizens­ – and my grandparents and all my aunts and uncles were suddenly interned in August of 1942. They were uprooted, evacuated, and went to the prison camp in Gila River, Arizona, and spent four to five years there.

At the time they were farm workers and were ready to buy farmland after going through the Great Depression. They had a number of brothers and sons that were going to farm together. Then the war came, internment came, and it dashed all those hopes. They lost everything they had except for what they could carry with them.

People from different communities were sent to different camps. People in southern Fresno, Selma and Parlier went to one camp, Gila River. Those in Fresno went to Jerome, Arkansas. I think it was the government’s wild thought that if we divide these people up, they won’t unify. At Gila River, Arizona, which is south of Phoenix, there were a number of people from LA who were totally lost in an open, rural, desert area.

At least my folks were used to the 100-degree weather of the Central Valley. There were a lot of farmers in the internment camp who wanted to do something, so they started raising crops. One community raised corn and sent it to the other 10 relocation camps to feed them. They fed the other relocation camps from what they grew in Gila River. Just wild.

ARTY: I’ve been to the Gila reservation. There’s a monument to the Japanese people who were incarcerated there. The tribal council protested locating the camps on their lands, but were overruled by the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

After the war, your family was released and somehow your father was able to buy land and ultimately plant an orchard of Sun Crest peaches, which have been listed in Slow Foods’ Ark of Taste, a catalogue of distinctive foods at risk. You wrote that the ripening of the Sun Crest peach is an indication that summer has arrived.  And yet, you almost had the orchard eliminated.

MAS: Sun Crest is a peach I grew up with, I planted these trees as a teenager with my dad who planted much faster than I did. I was a young teenager at that time wanting to get off the farm; I hated what I was doing. My rows weren’t straight because I was impatient, and I thought who cares about this.

Now, 50, 60 years later, I live with that crooked row because I was an impatient teenager who couldn’t wait to finish the work. As I said, I grew up with this peach, and it was the peach that sent me to college; the profits from the sales of Sun Crest allowed me to go to UC Berkeley.

And ironically, it was actually the peach that brought me back to the farm. I loved the flavor and understood a different way of farming that wasn’t about industrial farming. It was about being close to nature and family.

ARTY: But a time came when the market shifted and you had you had some challenges selling Sun Crest peaches.

MAS: Oh absolutely. When we planted in 1968, it was a pretty good peach. We ended up planting the mother of Sun Crest, which is Gold Dust, because the flavor is so good. Gold Dust, great flavor, but a little small. Sun Crest, was bred to be bigger, and it was a wonderful peach through the ‘60s and ‘70s, but when I came back in the ‘80s and ‘90s, the market wanted a peach that’s redder and has a longer shelf life. Sun Crest has superior flavor, but no one wanted it.

Our broker told us that he had 2,000 24-pound boxes of our Sun Crest peaches with no buyer. And I said, “Well, what do you think we should do?” He said, “If I were you, I would dump all the fruit out, because we can reuse the box.” “No! We’re not going to do that. Sell it!” So he sold the 24-pound boxes of Sun Crest peach for something like 50 cents a box. We lost our shirts. People were telling us, “You’ve got to get rid of that variety.”

My dad said, “I don’t know what we should do. You decide. You’re farming now.” My neighbor was also growing Sun Crest peaches and decided to have a bulldozer take out his orchard. I knew that we should do the same, but I was really torn. My wife, Marcy, said, “Yes, It has wonderful flavor, but we just lost thousands and thousands of dollars with no hope in the future.”

When the bulldozer came to our farm, I waved him down and told him to take my neighbors orchard out first. When he came back after he bulldozed my neighbor’s orchard, I told him that I changed my mind and am going to keep the orchard a little longer. And that was my early naïve commitment to keep the Sun Crest Orchard. I had no idea how we were going to solve the problem of finding a market.

ARTY: How did you solve it?

MAS: After that I started looking into farming organically and thinking maybe there’d be some hope. Then I wrote an essay called “Epitaph for a Peach.” I was able to get in touch with the editor of the LA Times who said, “This is a brilliant piece.” They ran it and syndicated it. Back then, newspapers syndicated articles across the nation. That was a turning point. I got about 20 letters from people from places like Ohio and North Carolina who read the article telling me to keep the peach. The letters were addressed to Masumoto, Peach Grower in Del Rey, California. Our community is so small that I got all the letters.

My wife Marcy was working off the farm to help stabilize us with off-farm income. I told her that I received 20 letters saying that we should keep this peach. We had just lost $20,000, but I got 20 letters. She looked at me, and said, “I guess I have to keep my job, huh?” And I said, “Yeah, you do.” That was the beginning of finding a home for our peaches.

ARTY: So you started to farm organically and things changed for you?

 Mas: When we started farming organically, one of the big changes was to think of working with nature in a different frame. I remember thinking early-on that the whole premise of industrial agriculture is trying to foolishly control nature and that we’re going to go a different route and work with nature.

When I talked about that to neighbors they said, “What are you talking about, working with nature?” My reply was, “In the end, nature tells us what we can do.” And ironically today, climate change is hitting people so hard that they now realize that we don’t control nature. Climate change, as a force, is nature working above us, and we have to learn how to work with it.

ARTY: Absolutely. In 2009 you wrote the book, Wisdom of the Last Farmer; why did you choose that title?

MAS: It was at a time when I was looking literally at the mortality of my dad. I grew up with him. He was a farmer, but not a storyteller. He told very few stories. Instead, he acted out his stories the way he lived his life.

I worked with him side-by-side; there was wisdom in his actions, how he shoveled the weeds, how he would prune a tree. All that was his wisdom. That’s the wisdom of elders, the wisdom of our ancestors that I live with today. And because of their wisdom, I’m able to do what I do today.

My dad taught me how to prune trees, and what he didn’t say, but what I deciphered in every act that he did, was that he was able to see the future. Because when you prune a tree, a peach tree for example, you have to imagine the summer. You’re pruning in the winter, so you have to be able to see the summer light and heat coming in, and how they will affect the ripening. You have to see the future. And he had a vision that great pruners have of being able to see the future.

As I get better at farming, I think of the old adage, “You become like your parents.” Now, I can actually have a longer timeline. I might say to my daughter: “These branches will take four or five years to mature.” And my daughter goes: “How do you see that, Dad?” And I try to explain that I can just feel it. It’s a very different way of farming. When I say see the future, it’s through the senses that one can feel the future.

ARTY: You have an increasingly rare opportunity which is having a succession of the farm to the next generation. How do the three generations connect? What’s the arc between your father, Takashi “Joe,” you, and your daughter Nikiko?

MAS: No one’s ever asked me that. Ironically, it’s in stories, but not necessarily verbal stories. As I said, my dad wasn’t a verbal storyteller. I write a lot, and I can get in great conversations, but I don’t sit around and shoot the breeze very well. I don’t do that. Close friends, maybe, but I don’t that much. I tell stories through writing.

It’s the storyline that connects us. Our daughter, Nikiko, who’s partnering on the farm now, has begun to realize that she’s writing the next chapter of the story of the farm, literally by making some decisions like: Do we keep this vineyard? Do we start looking more closely at some environmental issues? Should we grow native plants on the farm? She’s adding her chapter. So, it’s the storyline that connects, but it’s not necessary a verbal, oral tradition that’s being passed down from one generation to another, at least on our farm. In our family, it didn’t work that way.

ARTY: You work closely now with Nikiko. I’m going to assume there’s a gradual handing over of responsibility to her. How do you two make decisions?  What is the process of the succession?

MAS: It’s funny. You read about estate planning. They say you should have family planning meetings. We never did. My dad and I never had these family planning meetings, so I don’t have them either.

It’s almost, bizarrely, through osmosis, when we’re talking to each other, listening to each other, and then picking up on a few key things, and then watching each other. She’s watched me grow older, and even though I’m still very healthy, Nikiko knows that I have slowed down doing some things. She knows that at certain times, my knees are getting bad, so she says, “Maybe we need to rethink how we shape the orchards and prune the trees.”

So, we made a plan about lowering all the trees, so we can use smaller ladders. And it actually works on many different levels. There’s a reason why that metaphor of “low-hanging fruit” sticks because it’s much more efficient. Higher productivity, easier, and if we lower the trees correctly, they get more sunlight so that the fruit ripens properly, so when you combine all that, it’s a story that’s now being passed down through this phrase of low-hanging fruit.

And that’s how stories get changed, at least in our family. It’s passed down through a simple phrase like that that becomes actualized in the work that we do.

You should see our orchards. I am stunned at how high some of the trees have grown. They’re like 12 to 14 feet, so you realize our 10-foot ladders probably aren’t good enough, and our 12-foot ladders, especially as I age, are too heavy for me, so we’ve shifted to 8-foot ladders.

And another shift, we have more women working on our farm, and they’re better because they’re better at selecting quality. Eight-foot ladders are magical for them versus a 10-foot, which is heavier to maneuver. The 8-foot ladders work great. They increase productivity from an economic standpoint, but you also get better quality both from the sunlight coming in and from being able to be selective by having that woman’s touch that knows which fruit is ripe and which ones need another three or four days to ripen, whereas, a lot of the men just pick indiscriminately. Men are trained to pick fast. It’s about efficiency, not about quality. I decided to go with the quality. And it’s working.

ARTY: Some of your trees are over 50 years old. How are they adapting to the new way of being pruned?

MAS: We started this process years ago.  The first year was a shock to the tree because we pruned a lot of top growth. I thought, ‘Did we kill the tree? Did we hurt it?’ No, it just took a little while for the lower growth to come out. It takes about three to five-years for them to adapt and now they look spectacular. You can tell they’re happy.

I wish I could be topped at my age so I could grow new limbs and grow new arteries and veins and have my body respond the way the trees are.

ARTY: It’s amazing how resilient fruit trees are.

MAS: Absolutely. And the wild thing is no one, no agricultural professional, consultant, or researcher could tell you how to prune 50-year-old peach trees because no one keeps them that long.

We have 100-year-old grape vines that we weren’t sure we should keep, but I ultimately decided to keep them. I brought a researcher out a few weeks ago and asked him how to prune 100-year-old grape vines. He said, “I have to tell you, my first response is you should get rid of this block.” And I said “No, we’re not, so how do you prune it?

The vines are Thompson seedless grapes for raisins. Usually, when you prune them, you leave five to six long canes that are maybe three to four feet long. The researcher told me about some farmers in Argentina who are pruning the vines with short canes almost like a bush because some of the most flavorful grapes are on the canes near the trunk, but they’re not very prolific. They tend to be smaller bunches with smaller berries, which works well for the wine industry. But the raisin industry wants big bunches and bigger berries grow further on the cane. I decided to grow for flavor.

I’ve been growing these grapes for 60, 70 years, and I never thought about the flavor of the grapes for raisins. So, we’re going to try this new way to prune and see what happens.

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Celebrate Black History Month with Bioneers

February marks the beginning of Black History Month, a time to place special focus on the immense contributions Black people have made throughout  American history and their extraordinary resilience and creative resistance in the face of crushing oppression. 

This week’s newsletter showcases a few brilliant leaders — Fania Davis, a Civil Rights giant and profoundly eloquent advocate of Restorative Justice; and Karen Washington and Bryant Terry, two groundbreaking figures in the revitalization of Black Food culture. We’re also featuring our “Dreaming Out Loud” mini-series and a collection of media about dismantling systemic racism and uplifting diverse voices.


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In this week’s newsletter, we amplify voices of Black greatness, including Fania Davis, Karen Washington, and Bryant Terry.

Restorative Justice’s Promise | Fania Davis

Drawing on her lifetime of social justice activism, Fania Davis depicts the essence of Restorative Justice, an emerging approach that seeks to move us from an ethic of separation, domination and extreme individualism to one of collaboration, partnership and interrelatedness. Rooted in Indigenous views of justice and healing, this rapidly expanding global movement invites us to make a radical shift from either-or, right-wrong, and us-versus-them ways of thinking.

Watch now.


Black Food: Liberation, Food Justice and Stewardship | With Karen Washington and Bryant Terry

“Our liberation is embracing our cultural foods. I think that’s a very important part spiritually, physically and otherwise.” – Bryant Terry

The influences of Africans and Black Americans on contemporary food systems and agriculture are rooted in ancestral African knowledge and traditions of shared labor, worker co-ops and botanical polycultures. In this podcast episode, we hear from Karen Washington and Bryant Terry on how Black Food culture is weaving the threads of a rich African agricultural heritage with the liberation of food economics from an extractive corporate food oligarchy. The results can be health, conviviality, community wealth, and the power of self-determination.

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From left to right: Colette Pichon Battle, Aya de León, and Linda Burnham.

Register for Bioneers 2024

At the 35th annual Bioneers Conference, we’ll connect to empower breakthrough solutions for the most daunting and pressing challenges of our time. Join us to be a part of this transformative action and help us realize the change we all wish to see. Register for Bioneers 2024 to hear a keynote address from Colette Pichon Battle, a conversation on Black Futures in an Era of Climate Change moderated by Aya de León, an exploration of the growing risk of facism led by legendary writer and activist Linda Burnham, and much much more.

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Dreaming Out Loud: A Mini-Series Exploring Black Fugitivity

Looking to the past, the present and the future, the “Dreaming Out Loud” mini-series engages with pivotal moments and transformative figures in Black culture. Against the backdrop of a country that does not offer certain folks humanizing love, these stories traverse the beauty of Black minds as they dare to dream out loud and resist domination for a future of radical possibility.

Explore.


Dismantling Systemic Racism: Uplifting Diverse Voices for Racial Justice

For decades, thousands of people and organizations have poured their hearts and souls into the work of dismantling systems that promote inequality and white supremacy. Progress has been painfully slow at the cost of innocent human lives because the burden has fallen on so few. It will take all of us joining these efforts in order to create a just and equitable society.

This small collection of Bioneers media is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of the resources available to get educated and get involved on these topics. We encourage you to visit the organizations included and those represented by these speakers.

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Register for Upcoming CIIS Public Programs

For more than half a century, the California Institute of Integral Studies (CIIS) has been providing transformative integral education, grounded in wellness, healing, social impact, and higher consciousness. On February 24-25 at Leading with Soul and Sacred Purpose, join CIIS Public Programs and CIIS Women’s Spirituality associate professor, certified Theta Healer, and leadership coach Alka Arora for a workshop exploring a spirit-led approach to leadership.

Or, sign up for A Conversation With Thomas Hübl on February 29 for an empowering conversation on healing our world through understanding our interconnectedness and healing our individual, ancestral, and cultural trauma.

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Upcoming Bioneers Learning Courses & Community Conversations

Through engaging courses and conversations led by some of the world’s foremost movement leaders, Bioneers Learning and Community Conversations equip engaged citizens and professionals like you with the knowledge, tools, resources, and networks to initiate or deepen your engagement, leading to real change in your life and community.

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Organizing for Self-Determination and Liberation: Beyond the Basics in the Black Liberation Movement

Mississippi is the poorest state in the US, with the highest percentage of Black people and a history of vicious racial terror. Black resistance at a time of global health, economic, and climate crisis is the backdrop and context for the drama captured in this new and revised collection of essays, Jackson Rising Redux: Lessons on Building the Future in the Present.

Cooperation Jackson, founded in 2014 in Mississippi’s capital to develop an economically uplifting democratic “solidarity economy,” is anchored by a network of worker-owned, self-managed cooperative enterprises. In 2020, Cooperation Jackson became the center for national and international coalition efforts, bringing together progressive peoples from diverse trade union, youth, church, and cultural movements. This long-anticipated anthology details the foundations behind those successful campaigns. It unveils new and ongoing strategies and methods being pursued by the movement for grassroots-centered Black community control and self-determination, inspiring partnership and emulation across the globe.

Purchase Jackson Rising Redux: Lessons on Building the Future in the Present here.


Organizing for Self-Determination and Liberation: Beyond the Basics in the Black Liberation Movement” by Sacajawea “Saki” Hall

Living in Jackson, Mississippi, and building Cooperation Jackson has been a huge struggle. Our work here in Jackson is filled with complexities, contradictions, successes, failures, and everything in between. As we continue to document that history it is important that we provide a clear analysis that allows people to see how we moved this project and what the future can hold for its success. This essay is not meant to review our self-criticisms; that important reflection is developed elsewhere. Here I share the unspoken struggles, those less directly dealt with difficulties, which more often than not provide lessons we must glean for building our movements. These are based on life in Jackson over the past decade, and I hope they will contribute to strengthening our people, empowering our community, and informing the wide range of communities and movements reading this book. Based on twenty years of educating and organizing throughout the US, it is intended to pose some critical questions more than provide clichéd answers.

My time in Jackson has often led me to question if all the hard work was worth it. In a much more visceral way than I’ve experienced before at different points in my life, I wondered whether we had gained as much as we had lost. During one of the most difficult times, between 2017 and 2018, I was separated from my political home—the organization I had joined at the start of what I call my conscious participation in the Black liberation movement, the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement (MXGM). Cooperation Jackson was asked to divorce itself from the family of Chokwe Lumumba and the Lumumba administration led by Chokwe’s son. Friendships, comrades, and political relationships were strained and a significant number of them completely lost. Many people declared they would not take sides as a matter of principle and then slowly disappeared.

Moving Beyond

When I first read “Tell No Lies, Claim No Easy Victories: Response to Ultra-Left Attacks on the Lumumba Administration in Jackson, Mississippi” by Akinyele Omowale Umoja for the National Coordinating Committee of the New Afrikan People’s Organization (NAPO), I was angry and felt politically and personally attacked. After writing a response that I never published, I honestly reflected on my time in Jackson up until that point. I sat with the “ultra-left sectarian” label. Akinyele wrote: “Cooperation Jackson has not been able to develop a base of support among indigenous Black people in Jackson, particularly Black workers. . . . This group has failed to mobilize and organize Black workers in a city which is 80% Black and working class.” I could concede to this statement three years into Cooperation Jackson. None of us thought we had the membership we could have had or needed to have for the future we envisioned. It did seem a little unfair, though, to charge an organization three years old with having failed to organize some unknown percent that would represent a base of roughly 160,000 people. We thought we were coming into an MXGM base that could be increased and strengthened but soon realized that outside of the mobilization for elections, there was no ongoing campaign work to maintain a minimal base or rebuild a base that had existed decades before. In essence, we had to start from scratch. One of Akinyele’s criticisms required several readings. “Ultra-left politics,” he wrote, “is an orientation that overestimates the level of consciousness and organization of the people and capacity of the revolutionary movement, while often engaging in sectarian politics divorced from the people’s struggle.” This one confused me, and I debated it, tried to fit it on and wear it, and found it particularly hard having been politically trained through MXGM—the NAPO mass-based group. One of my favorite Ella Baker quotes came to mind: “Oppressed people, whatever their level of formal education, have the ability to understand and interpret the world around them, to see the world for what it is, and move to transform it.” This is the basis from which I have always operated, and that is enough to give me solace.

While all of the intense critiques stung, this sting may have lasted the longest and echoed the most in my head: “Cooperation Jackson has Organizing for Self-Determination and Liberation 83 relied on the legacy and used the name and image of Baba Chokwe and the Lumumba family and the history of NAPO/MXGM organizing in Jackson, to gain and maintain support locally, nationally, and internationally. Cooperation Jackson can no longer undermine the contribution and political commitment of Baba Chokwe Lumumba, while cloaking itself in his political and organizational legacy.” We were being accused, here and in less politically eloquent ways, of “pimping” off Baba Chokwe’s name. . .that we had been doing this from the start. Wow!

Another person took it upon himself to wage an ongoing campaign, telling anyone and everyone he could (including funders) that Cooperation Jackson had “no real work,” were misusing money, had a “pattern of dishonest and poor leadership,” and should not be “artificially” held up or endorsed, because it damages the effort to “build a powerful movement.” Now I believe strongly in the practice of criticism/self-criticism and believe that the practice is vital to correcting mistakes and improving practice both individually and collectively. I’ve learned that it takes being willing to have your ego bruised and requires having trust that a comrade (not any ol’ person) is acting in good faith to keep at it. It takes working through differences and struggling for alignment and political clarity. Sometimes it even requires a partway understanding that there are irreconcilable differences, hopefully coming to further understandings that allow for working together in areas where you do agree. Even if it takes some time to get there, the goal should be as much principled unity as possible, when and where possible, to work for the collective good. But some of these attacks seemed beyond principled criticisms.

So we decided from then on till the present—both as an organization and among our leadership, as individuals—that we would not engage in a war of criticism or even self-defense. As a Christian, I’ve always rejected the idea of an eye for an eye. It has been hard at times to self-censor, and I have found myself in situations where I have had to grit my teeth and nod my head. I also reject the notion of getting smacked in the face and turning the other cheek. But I know what Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. meant. We have been and still are willing to engage in honest struggle, that takes a willingness to say things that are uncomfortable and even at odds, as well as to hear them. At the end of the day, Akinyele Umoja’s essay time and time again made me want to respond in a “comradely principled revolutionary struggle” way, even though I do not believe that is the way in which it was offered to me publicly. Even when my grief went from acceptance to rage, I landed on acceptance and never published or circulated my scathing analytical reply.

I realized early on, however, that I would be telling lies by being completely silent—and that would not honor Amílcar Cabral (author of the phrase “tell no lies”) or Chokwe Lumumba. So I decided that I would be true to my experience and represent myself, my role, and my organization as best I could in the timeline of our existence in the Black radical tradition we were born into. I would, when asked, provide my own and my organization’s political analysis about the City of Jackson and our work. I have not thrown stones, shade, or glitter. Our conditions and context are that bad.

The full Cabral quote is necessary in our work. He wrote: “Hide nothing from the masses of our people. Tell no lies. Expose lies whenever they are told. Mask no difficulties, mistakes, failures. Claim no easy victories.” Moving beyond solidarity to action, beyond mobilizing to organizing, beyond cultural activity to base building, requires memorizing this full quote, and, more importantly, putting it into practice.

The Future in the Present

Cooperation Jackson as an institution grew out of the Jackson-Kush Plan, the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement (MXGM), and NAPO. The members of MXGM who cofounded Cooperation Jackson, along with a group of nonmembers, were all transplants to Jackson, Mississippi. Long before the organization was even thought of, a phase of our solidarity economy work had begun. For me, the new chapter of my life in Jackson was continuing the story of my life as an activist and organizer in New York and Atlanta, except I was not sure what I would do for an income after my contract as conference coordinator of the Jackson Rising New Economies Conference ended. For all of us, the work included getting ready for hosting a huge conference, studying, and participating in training on solidarity economics and cooperatives (regardless of whether we had studied or lived experience), building relationships in the community, outreach, door knocking, and meetings. This work began before the organization, whose name we borrowed (with permission) from Cooperation Texas. We knew there would need to be an institution to carry out the work and be the container for additional projects, co-ops, and coalition building. What we did not know was that launching the institution would end up getting fast-tracked after the untimely death of Mayor Chokwe Lumumba.

The leadership of Cooperation Jackson decided with limited funds and without nonprofit status to forgo any compensation for our work in order to acquire land in West Jackson. We did this with the explicit understanding that land is a basis for our freedom, independence, and self-determination. None of this work has been done to benefit any one family or small group of people. Our coordinating committee at the time knew we would need to have a core team to work full-time, and we decided to pay five of us $1,000 a month based on need, desire, and capacity. I point this out to say that real sacrifices must be made in our movement-building work. Moving to Jackson, further away from my family, network of supportive friends, and work opportunities, was no easy choice. But is what was needed to add capacity to my former political organization and to start this project. A stipend of $1,000 a month for a family of four (supplemented with food stamps, because Kali refused to get the stipend and worked on a full-volunteer basis!) was what we felt needed to happen at that historic juncture.

We created the nonprofit, in addition to a limited liability corporation, to raise charitable funds, establish a community land trust (CLT), and engage in cooperative and solidarity economy education and training. The majority of the funds raised by Cooperation Jackson have been used to acquire land explicitly to take it off of the speculative market. Short of directly liberating the land, the CLT is a direct way to operationalize the motto, “Free the Land.”

Cooperation Jackson’s work is anchored in West Jackson, particularly the Poindexter Park and Capital Neighbors sections of West Jackson. These are Black working-class/poor neighborhoods, with a high concentration of homeless individuals, arguably the highest concentration in Mississippi. The leadership of Cooperation Jackson, which includes me, chose this neighborhood for two reasons. First, because of its history. The Poindexter Park neighborhood is home to the original Provisional Government of the Republic of New Afrika; its house was located at 1148 Lewis Street. We wanted to be connected to this history and its living memory in the neighborhood. Also, in analyzing the city, we noted the high concentration of Black homeownership and available land in the neighborhood. This combination is important in our ongoing fight against land speculation and gentrification. We knew then and know even more now that such speculation is on the rise in West Jackson.

My life and work are not divorced from the people’s struggle. I live and work within the trenches of my neighborhood. Living here, doing this work, and struggling within and as part of a community has reminded me of my working-class background. It has deepened my anti-capitalist analysis, my commitment to centering our Black poor/ working-class community organizing, and the importance of centering Black women. Even though I live under similar conditions as my neighbors, I also fully recognize my privilege and the positionality.

I am willing to commit class suicide, and Jackson has reminded me in very uncomfortable ways that I can and will have to if I’m being true to revolutionary politics.

We made a choice to live and work in West Jackson instead of driving in from North Jackson or the surrounding suburbs. We made the choice to be here with our children, despite this being a neighborhood reminiscent of our own childhoods rampant with drugs, violence, and poverty in Los Angeles and New York. We want better for our children, and we want better for all of our people, but knowing the challenges of organizing Black working-class people from our own respective upbringings and experiences, we chose to live and work in this neighborhood, despite the challenges. We chose to develop relationships with other Black working-class people to build a more self-determined future. Many organizers become literally divorced from the people’s struggle in both their living conditions and their lack of organizing in poor communities. Outside of holding cultural events or identifying as a “Black organizer,” too many live their lives disengaged from the struggle of Black poor, working class, and even so-called middle-class everyday life.

When we moved to Jackson, our organization was in a period of great transition. The successful election of Chokwe Lumumba as the mayor of Jackson was extraordinary. Chokwe was a known entity to the people of Jackson and solidified some possibilities for organizing. However, although the people of Jackson knew Baba Chokwe Lumumba, they did not know MXGM or NAPO, let alone the Jackson-Kush Plan. This meant that it became too easy for a 180-degree shift to take place with an overreliance on electoral politics.

Telling no lies and claiming no easy victories must mean honestly assessing the lack of political education, leadership development, and Organizing for Self-Determination and Liberation 87 engagement in the hood, when there is no real campaign or project to engage “the people.” Getting out the vote is one thing, but building or rebuilding a base within the community is another. Based on our own work over the years, Cooperation Jackson’s leadership knows that we have a long road ahead to become deeply rooted in the community and gain the people’s trust. We recognized in 2015 that developing the solidarity economy component locally was more than simply introducing it to the base; we had to start from scratch. We had a relatively strong membership, but, by 2018, after the unfortunate splits, we had to rebuild that base.

While plenty of people want to say and think that this separation was based on personal differences, there were very fundamental differences politically and ideologically. We internally discussed the Kush plan, which was at a crossroads, and understood that as an effort at a coordinated strategy it was, in essence, dead. What then does an organization, an experimental project birthed from a long process that led to the strategy, do in such a situation? We agreed to keep doing what we started out doing and to continue even if whisper campaigns and threats to our work continued. We believe in the idea of letting our work speak for itself; it has to if we truly want to unplug from the nonprofit industrial complex! If we truly believe (as scary as it may feel) that the revolution will not be funded, we have to move forward with deeply grassroots base building in our communities. And despite our plethora of media, social media, and self-made media, the revolution will still not be televised. This is not to say that special funding or media will play no role in our work, but the hard work of building and sustaining radical movements cannot be reliant and dependent on either of these elements if we are to truly organize for people’s liberation.

While Cooperation Jackson’s mission and aim are to build a solidarity economy and realize economic democracy, we advocated and uplifted the three pillars of economic democracy, participatory democracy via people’s assemblies, and electoral politics (including the development of an independent political party). We did not, and do not, uplift simple electoral victories outside of these wider strategic concepts simply because it might be advantageous to “cloak” ourselves in Baba Chokwe’s political and organizational legacy. We did create an autonomous Cooperation Jackson People’s Assembly, which led to housing justice work, rent relief, an eviction hotline, and rental assistance fairs.

The people have to be prepared to make choices in their own ultimate interests. We hope the redirection of the assemblies will be a vehicle for these choices, and we hope they become truly autonomous from the city’s administration in order to exercise their independent agency. A truly independent people’s relationship with progressive government will mean criticisms, making demands, and organizing for change. Isn’t that the way an inside-outside strategy, one that ultimately works both within and outside of the system, works? Being in government and working with progressive local government is always an inside-outside strategy!

An inside-outside strategy can’t keep compromise on the outside for the protection of those on the inside! This was already my frustration with work in international and domestic human rights projects I’ve engaged in since 2009. From climate justice work to the Decade for People of African Descent (which ends in 2024), my position is that there is not a balance to be forged nor do we try to balance things for comfort’s sake. Inside-outside work is needed but it is also a contradiction. It is only okay when we recognize it as such and constantly work to check ourselves on which is the priority tactic or strategy to advance the needs of the people. Which aspect of the inside-outside dynamic, at any given moment, will best shift the balance of power? Most of the time, the outside protest and self-organization is, of course, most able to mobilize for lasting change.

We need to be discussing and heavily debating how grassroots organizations and movements engage in electoral politics. I question if the model I helped implement in Jackson had it right from its inception. I was challenged to think about this even more deeply while in Germany for a housing gathering, after a discussion turned into a fishbowl debate between me and a comrade from PAH (a national housing justice grassroots organization in Spain). The requirement for members of PAH is that they step down from the organizations they’ve been part of while they hold any elected office. For them, there is no blurred line between the movement and organizations, making demands in the interest of its membership, on the one hand, and, on the other, any elected officials coming out of that same movement while they are in office. I’m not completely sold on this being the only way to approach the potential conflicts that can arise or to protect each side. The premise of their model was taken for granted here though, and it led to major conflict.

Clearly and in general, the level of consciousness and organization of our people needs to be raised. Our strategic and tactical debates and our handling of internal and external contradictions needs to be sharpened. Joining MXGM taught me that it is our role to build what consciousness and organization exist within our communities. As organizers, it is our responsibility to not only meet the people where they are but also to engage in dialogues that will increase their capacity to connect their lived experiences with an analysis of the roots of our oppression. Creating a base of people committed to revolutionary transformation means including language that may not be familiar at first. It also means not assuming that our people aren’t ready.

We see in our everyday work that everyday working-class Black people in Jackson are ready to engage with and be introduced to radical ideas. We still maintain that this is why thousands of Black working-class people voted en masse for Chokwe Lumumba and Chokwe Antar Lumumba. Over the decades of Chokwe’s public works, particularly as a movement lawyer, the people of Jackson were introduced to his radical ideas and those of the New African Independence Movement (NAIM).

As for Cooperation Jackson’s leadership, we have been clear from day one that our views are minority views among the people. We are going to have to win people over to our politics and positions through demonstrated action, not just through the conviction of our arguments. Cooperation Jackson is and always was premised on making revolutionary nationalist rhetoric both material and concrete. From the perspective of the NAIM, clearly the level of consciousness and organization of our people needs to be raised. However, this doesn’t mean our communities aren’t clear about the conditions they face.

People know all too well their conditions, and our job is to pose solutions based on our collective experience, study, and ideology. Organizing people means supporting their voices to exert power, a force to push for the change they/we want to see in the city. This is a power that needs to exercise its muscles for when we don’t have a favorable mayor, a progressive mayor, or even a mayor who comes from local grassroots organizing. The muscle of the community has to be ready when the state government pushes back against our efforts to govern in a transformative way. Together, we must build the new model of sustainable urban living that we envision. Revolutionary organizing is about telling no lies and preparing our people for the struggles ahead. It entails providing leadership that offers a direction. Revolutionary leadership points out our failures, and collectively summarizes our history so we can learn from all of our efforts—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

I wholeheartedly believe in flexibility, but we can’t take mass appeal to mean becoming so broad and general that we contradict the fundamental principles that are at the very core of what grounds us. At this moment, with humanity and Mother Earth on the brink of destruction, our call for radical, revolutionary, transformative action must be loud and clear. Beyond revisionism, we must assert unapologetically anticapitalist, anti-extractivist, and anti-imperialist politics, policies, and processes.

This requires educating the people about the reality of what taking clear stances might mean, choosing to make sacrifices in the short term for the benefits in the long term. We must be clear about the limitations and traps of the system. We’ve talked at length about how radical movements have been undermined and destroyed in this pursuit, and how the Democratic Party has been the graveyard of social movements in the US. We’ve been clear and honest about what mayors can do and what the limitations of these positions are, particularly in Mississippi, where municipalities have few rights that cannot be overwritten by the state. This is the reality all over the South.

In my view, we were and are clear—crystal clear. We have a difficult road ahead to make Jackson a successful model that could illustrate how revolutionary nationalist politics can concretely serve our people. If our plan is going to serve the people, the base of Black working-class people, it will have to be led by strong organizations, not a fickle group of petty bourgeois drifters who will turn on us at the drop of a dime. With our understanding of contemporary capitalism and the United States, you can’t have it both ways. Making Jackson, Mississippi, a model of revolutionary governance and transformation requires Cooperation Jackson and hopefully other organizations and individuals to step up, be clear about their mission and their means, and prepare our people to fight.

With this clarity and the help of an organization committed to building the future in the present, we can make Ella Baker’s words a reality and transform the world through our own liberation.


PM Press owns the copyright of this book, and Bioneers excerpted it with permission.

Exploring the Healing Promise of Plant Medicines with Bioneers

Rooted in the wisdom of ancient cultures and thriving in today’s world, herbalism takes a holistic approach to health and wellness through recognizing the healing properties found in plants. Botanical medicine has played an important role in Indigenous cultures and millenia-old healing and folk medicine traditions around the world, and those repositories of knowledge have been preserved and passed down for generations. Contemporary herbalism draws from this wisdom, offering a bridge between ancient practices and today’s use of plant medicine. 

In this week’s newsletter, learn about contemporary herbal medicine, the healing promise and pitfalls of plant medicines in a globalized world, and what we miss when we oversimplify nature’s complexity.


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Exploring the Healing Promise of Plant Medicines in a Global Industry 

Ann Armbrecht is an author, filmmaker and the director of the Sustainable Herbs Program. Since her time studying with legendary herbalist Rosemary Gladstar, who emphasizes a kin-centric relationship with plants, Armbrecht has explored the nature of plants as living entities rather than merely inanimate objects to ingest. In this interview, learn more about her book, “The Business of Botanicals: Exploring the Healing Promise of Plant Medicines in a Global Industry,” and how the commodification of herbal medicine affects the essence of plants.

Read now.


Layla K. Feghali | Food is Our Medicine, Love is Our Medicine

In her book, “The Land In Our Bones,” Lebanese ethnobotanist, sovereignty steward, and cultural worker Layla K. Feghali offers a layered history of the healing plants of Cana’an (the Levant) and the Crossroads (“Middle East”). Tying cultural survival to earth-based knowledge, Feghali asks into the ways we become free from the wounds of colonization and displacement. 

Read now.


The Pitfall of Plant-Based Pharmaceuticals and Therapies

Why might someone develop resistance to a pharmaceutical drug based on one active plant ingredient but be successfully treated by the plant itself? In this article, ethnobotanist Mark Plotkin and physician-scientist Karyemaitre Aliffe discuss what we miss when we oversimplify nature’s complexity, and how we can correct our thinking.

Read now.


Katsi Cook | Revitalizing Indigenous Knowledge and Medicine, Nurturing Health and Cultural Resilience

Katsi Cook, a wolf clan Mohawk, is a prominent midwife, environmentalist, and women’s health advocate known for her impactful work in the Mohawk Nation at Akwesasne. In this talk, she shares a deeply edifying look at the cultural context of Native American plant use in general and then of peyote use. Her descriptions of indigenous views of plants and their relationships to humans offer the non-indigenous among us very important cautions about the risks of arrogant and disrespectful use of plant medicines and sacraments.

Read now.


How To Find Plant Products You Can Feel Good About

“We live in a world where we are all using the earth’s energy, the oil, water, the resources of the earth. I don’t think any business would deny that. What is important is that those companies are doing their utmost to ensure that they are putting back what they are taking out.” – Sebastian Pole

It can be challenging for consumers to know where to look for the best product – one that is good for your, for the people doing the work, and for the Earth. In this article, learn about ways to let companies know you are paying attention and how to take action as a consumer.

Learn more.


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Upcoming Bioneers Learning Courses & Community Conversations

Through engaging courses and conversations led by some of the world’s foremost movement leaders, Bioneers Learning and Community Conversations equip engaged citizens and professionals like you with the knowledge, tools, resources, and networks to initiate or deepen your engagement, leading to real change in your life and community.

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Katsi Cook: Revitalizing Indigenous Knowledge and Medicine, Nurturing Health and Cultural Resilience

Katsi Cook, a wolf clan Mohawk, is a prominent midwife, environmentalist, and women’s health advocate known for her impactful work in the Mohawk Nation at Akwesasne. Born on the St. Regis Mohawk Reservation in 1952, she embraced traditional practices after attending Catholic boarding school and later became a trailblazer at Dartmouth College. Cook’s passion for midwifery was ignited at the Loon Lake Conference in 1977, driving her to address reproductive health and environmental justice issues. Founder of organizations like the Women’s Dance Health Program, she tackled PCB contamination in the St. Lawrence River. Cook’s influence extends globally, collaborating with Mayan midwives and founding the Six Nations Birthing Centre in Canada. A respected academic, she held positions at SUNY Albany and Dalhousie University. As the Program Director of Running Strong for American Indian Youth, Cook continues to empower Native women through community-based health projects. Her dedication makes her a key figure in indigenous rights, environmentalism, and women’s health.

In this talk, she shares, among other topics, a deeply edifying look at the cultural context of Native American plant use in general and then of peyote use. Her descriptions of indigenous views of plants and their relationships to humans and how crucial a deep respect for the spirits of other species is in such relationships offer the non-indigenous among us very important cautions about the risks of arrogant and disrespectful use of plant medicines and sacraments (not to mention most other species and the entire biosphere!). Her accounts of her own cross-cultural, pan-tribal plant knowledge learning process and of the use of peyote in childbirth are also fascinating, especially since these are rarely discussed topics.

A version of this piece was originally published in Visionary Plant Consciousness: The Shamanic Teachings of the Plant World.


My community is the Mohawk reservation on the St. Lawrence River, right on the U.S.-Canadian border. It is trisected by three governmental jurisdictions: Quebec, Ontario and New York State, so we’ve had many complexities to deal with in our growth as a people. As part of that growth, in my own life, I’ve committed to that area of our sovereignty that has to do with control of production and reproduction. I am very focused on the protection of indigenous knowledge and ways and of other areas of our sovereignty, such as the control of our land base, our education, our psycho-religious life and our power to solve the disputes among our own people.

I feel privileged to come from a people whose very creation story begins in a world where there is no death, the Skyworld. In our story a young woman there takes on the responsibility of fulfilling the dream of a leader, and she has to go gather certain flowers for that purpose. She goes to a great tree that has many of these beautiful flowers, but when she gathers some of those flowers, she unintentionally pulls up the roots of this tree, and a hole in the Skyworld appears. She looks in that hole and she falls in, and as she falls she grasps at the edges of that hole and embeds under her fingernails the seeds of those sacred plants–medicines, tobacco and other things that we now use here in this place. In fact this Skywoman’s name means “mature flowers,” what could be thought of as herbal medicines

As she fell through that hole and through the sky, she saw below her a vast ocean, and she was assisted by the birds and the winged ones to land on the back of a great turtle. She landed on the back of this great turtle with the help of the bird life and began to dance in the direction that the sun goes around a plot of earth that was brought up to the turtle’s back by the little muskrat who gave his life to bring that soil from the bottom of the ocean. When her daughter was born, she too followed that reproductive ecology that her mother showed her, dancing in the direction the sun goes.  Those women put into place the cycles of continuous creation, of continuous birth, and the daughter, as she came of age, became impregnated by the West Wind and brought into this world twins, who in their dialectic, their argument with each other about the way this world should be organized, became the Creator Twins who created the world as we know it.

Our creation story teaches us that there is no complete good or complete evil, that in order for this world to exist, there has to be a balance. We live in a universe of relatives, and the universe is kept alive by those relationships. I have heard people define ecology as a science of relationships and that’s certainly how I perceive my own work in keeping those relationships going to continue the work of our celestial mother. I’m grateful to think that my name, Katsijakwa, which means “she picks up the flowers,” is a medicine name in that way.

The strength that I carry comes to me from my grandmothers.  My grandmother delivered me at home in 1952 to a woman who was told not even to have children because she fell in the river when she was a little girl and got rheumatic fever and rheumatic heart disease at a time when there were no antibiotics. She brought me, her fourth one, into this world at great risk to her own life.  These women that I come from are the ones who taught me at a very young age to believe in our medicine, to use our medicine and to relate to our medicines in the way that we were instructed. In my community, my relationship to the families is what is called in Mohawk “lewirokwas,” “one who pulls them from the water,” or “she helps him with his first breath.”  The word midwife is a German word meaning “with the woman,” and it’s a good word, but to begin to institutionalize our traditional teachings in a real way, we’ve had to go back to our language and to those things that grandma taught us. To use real medicine means that you respect all of those relationships in that reproductive ecology that is this great universe, this great womb that we are all related to. 

One of the things we have tried to do is to restore the strength of our medicine societies, so they can do the work that they were given to do for our people. To improve the respect, the equity and the empowerment of that sector of our knowledge base has been one of my goals. We started to pay attention to our own medicines and to improve how health care is done. We put our clinicians through a six-week training with our medicine people, sharing with them the principles and the teachings behind the use of our plants. One of the barriers that we have is that we still have to follow those old ways of collection, of prayer, of relationship that go with using these medicines.  As a midwife, when I ask a mother to begin to use, say, slippery elm two weeks before the baby is due, there’s a whole protocol to be followed to find an elder in our community who’s going to fix that medicine for her, because it isn’t just about stripping inner bark and beating it into a powder. It involves the right approach to the tree, and the plant needs to be gathered at the height the woman is and her Indian name used.

The road to know about plants is long. In my communities, you usually can’t even ask directly about plant use. It’s considered disrespectful. Most people come around plants because they’re sick and dying or they have a need in terms of protection. We have seven Mohawk protection medicines that I’m not going to tell you, because you’re not Mohawks, but I will tell you from my own personal experience that knowledge comes to you in titrated doses. Like everything else in a culture, you can’t separate language and cosmology and all of those aspects of culture from whatever particular body of knowledge within that culture you want to know. And every indigenous culture of which we all eventually come from has its body of plant knowledge.

But it’s never plants alone that cure. Knowledge and healing come through dreams and through tradition and through family ways. This information moves along through family lines, and certain families hold certain medicines.  So, for instance, in my community, because healers are always open to new knowledge, it’s my clan family that holds the peyote medicine that just came to us in the last 20 years from the Lakota and from the Huichol people. So not every plant is for everyone. Not all knowledge is for everyone. That’s just the way my people think. There are those in our community, usually women past the time of menopause, who are the ones to go to when you need a medicine.  Because I’m young yet, I’ll often send my mothers to these different healers to help them, and they’re quite capable people, but they say, “We keep our knowledge close to us because that’s something you learn after a life of struggle and trial and commitment-it’s not for everyone.”

Our people also believe that you can’t communicate with the spirits of these plants unless you have an Indian name, and for that purpose when our babies are named in our long house, there’s only one of that name given, so it won’t confuse the universe. The clan mothers hold these names in a metaphorical bag; they are like property. You can’t just pick up any old name and use it. So there are many traditions that are valuable but are in a way a barrier to getting more of our plant medicines available to our people reliably and in sufficient quantities. And the Indian Health Service spent 20 years trying to get our people away from our plants and traditions, so a lot of people lost touch with this knowledge, to such an extent that, for example, young mothers no longer know the difference between a sick baby and a baby they can care for themselves at home.

I work with a Harvard-trained physician who feeds lab rats the four conjoiners of PCBs most commonly found in Mohawk mothers’ milk to identify effects on the rat litters. He had, for about six months, walked around with a respiratory ailment. He couldn’t stop coughing.  You couldn’t make him laugh at meetings because he’d begin a coughing fit he couldn’t stop. And when he started coughing up blood they quarantined him and tested him for animal and human forms of TB because he works with lab animals. While he was in quarantine, I gave him some Sweet Flag (calamus acorus) and told him, “It’s not like the medicine you’re used to. You have to respect it in a certain way,” and I told him how to use it.  About two weeks later he called me and asked, “What is that stuff you gave me?”  For the first time in six months he had stopped coughing.  I told him what it was and how useful it was and how all my life I’d been using it.

He said he was really happy to use a medicine that was a root that came out of the earth. It made him feel good. He said it improved his mood. I’d never heard that, that it could improve your mood, so I went to Jim Duke’s database on medicinal herbs, and I read that there’s a chemical constituent responsible for mildly hallucinogenic properties in this plant. I went back to some of the elders including the one on whose property I’d collect it with my sister every fall and asked them. They knew that. They said that’s part of its healing power. Somehow the Creation knows that when you’re not well, it affects the way that you think about yourself. It makes you depressed that you are weak.

Medicines are not just plants; they are also the dreams and those relationships that we maintain. We have a relationship with a Mayan village in Guatemala that my people are sending a team of ambassadors to this December, but that my husband and I have related to since 1981. In learning aboriginal midwifery, as distinct from licensed midwifery, I made a serious effort not to become a nurse, not to become a doctor, because I wanted to believe in our own ways and our own knowledge and our own medicines, which is not to say I didn’t take the responsibility to gain the medical skills necessary to be a safe practitioner, but that my focus is on our own indigenous ways, because none of this knowledge has been lost. It is recovered in the practice of doing, of using it, of believing in your medicine. So my medicines come from the four directions: from the south I study the ways of the days of the Mayan people, the Mayan ways of the days that are still used among their midwives and spiritual leaders.

In my training, I also went to my sister-in-law’s people in South Dakota. Her mother, Weaselbear, was a midwife. In my journey to become a midwife I had gone to the Farm in Tennessee to study with Ina May Gaskin and then to the University of New Mexico Women’s Health Training program for my clinical training. I’d seen so many native women in these clinics, Zuni, Pueblo, Navajo, Hopi, who had caesarian scars and had no clue why they had had a caesarian, and I thought, “This isn’t right. We have such beautiful traditional knowledge, but our women can be so dumb sometimes.” So I went to my mother- and sister-in-law’s people in South Dakota, where for 100 years their family has been holding the peyote medicine that came to them from the Osage and the Kiowa and the Huichol. 

My mother-in-law said, “Daughter-in-law, if you want to learn midwifery, you have to go in that tepee.” I said, “Where I come from in the long-house we can’t use any mind changers.”  And she said, “Well, I don’t know what you believe over there, but here this is the heart of the creator, our grandfather, and holy mother.” She told the story of when she was in labor for my sister-in-law’s little brother, Aloytius Weaselbear, while she was in a peyote meeting, and they made peyote tea for her to help her. And so I went in that tepee. My sister-in-law promised me that whatever I wanted to know, this medicine would show me, so during the night I asked this grandfather medicine, “How do I know I can be a midwife?  That’s a big responsibility.  How will I know what to do?”  And that medicine said in my mind real clearly, “You’ll know.  Just do it.”  (Way before the Nike ad came out.) That was about 21 years ago; I’ve been using the medicine in my own life. And more recently I was also lucky to be able to spend time and learn more with Grandma Guadalupe de la Cruz, a Huichol midwife and healer, before she left us this past year. You have to be a Native American enrolled member to legally use lophophora williamsii, in this country. Thanks to Kwana Parker, who in the late 1800s started what became the Native American Church, it’s legal for card-carrying members of the Native American Church to use it.

So as part of that, in my own practice as a midwife, I use the peyote. It can be used to induce labor or for assisting in pain control. Recently a nurse from the Navajo Hospital in Arizona came to our annual organizational meeting and begged the Native American Church of North America to send someone to her hospital to do a training for the caregivers there because when healthcare workers at the hospital noticed a Navajo woman using the peyote medicine, they would refer her to child protective services, who in some cases removed the infant from the family. This is the kind of cultural denigration that Native American people still have to endure for something we call the heart of the creator. I can’t say enough about its efficacy, not just in childbirth, which is the foundation of its use in my own mind, but for every disease that there is.

It can heal anything, and when I say that, I don’t mean it’s a panacea. I mean that it can restore people to a place where they can allow the homeostatic work of their own body’s healing. So we do a lot of work with it in our community, but we also stick to the rules and regulations set by the DEA and the governments. I hope to conduct some research on it, maybe do some randomized control trials, not just in my community but several other Indian Health Service Hospitals where native women are using this without the knowledge of caregivers.

But plants are like people. You can only have so many relations that you keep alive.  You can’t possibly use every plant on the planet. Some people are even running to the rainforest in Peru to find medicines, and I do have to admit I’ve been to the Mayan people of Belize, and they do have beautiful medicines, but it’s the knowledge itself that is strong and powerful in the use of the green medicines. Not everyone can use all of these medicines. Peyote, for example, doesn’t belong to everyone. I ask you in a humble way to protect the exemption in the American Indian Religious Freedom Act. We are looking for a niche in our worlds to continue to survive, and this medicine has come to us in a very organic way, not through the forces of markets and economics. We take that very seriously.

The other medicine I use is, of course, the medicine of my own people. We use medicine not only to get a specific bio-active effect. There are groups of medicines that like one another, that work together. In doing our ecological analysis of how toxics move through our environment, we were shocked, for example to find that at Akwesasne, along the St. Lawrence River, there’s an increased uptake of methyl mercury by plants in the wetlands areas, especially in another one of our very powerful medicines, the yellow pond lily. That medicine is supposed to be picked in a certain way. Someone who picks this medicine can only be someone who has never known the heat of sexuality. Usually they’re young people who have to keep their mind a certain way when they gather it because the root grows way deep into the muck of the wet areas, and if your mind isn’t strong and your heart’s not pure about the person that you’re trying to help, that root will pull you under and take your life instead of helping you to assist with another life. We take these teachings very seriously.

At the same time, I know that the availability, the access to our own medicines is diminishing with the increasing encroachment of development and the loss of land-base to toxic contamination.  We are looking to land claims to try to solve the problems of access to our own medicines, but we need to be propagating and growing these medicines. Part of my training as an aboriginal midwife was to raise, for four years, a field of corn from seed that came with Skywoman in her fall, taking care of it, singing to it, dancing with it. The Mayans teach that women learned midwifery from corn, and the kind of corn we grow can’t be harvested by machine. It has to be hand-collected, and we’d have about 20 people out in our fields to harvest this corn, and when you pull back the husk, it’s like seeing a new baby. You might make a comment like: “Oh, look at this one red kernel in it among all white kernels. It must be related to the Tuscarora corn.”

When I had the wife of one of our Wolf Clan chiefs come to visit my home, I was telling her about this, and she said, “Well you know, the word in Mohawk for describing bundling a new baby means in English, ‘she’s putting the husk back on the corn.'”  And every part of corn is a medicine, including the silks. A soil scientist, a Ph.D. agronomist at Cornell University from Nicaragua told me how the gestation of the corn and the gestation of the human being are very similar, so that in that way, corn teaches us about midwifery, about genetics, about the secrets of the plants.

The strongest teaching that we have is, “Believe in your medicine.”  I find that whether we’re talking about indigenous knowledge or the new knowledge that’s called scientific knowledge, it’s the same truth. The medicines and their uses must be restored to our people so that we can again be healthy. In my community we have very limited health care dollars and environmental health impacts are going to drive up the prevalence and incidence of diseases that have an etiology in the immune system. A lot of the medicines we used were protective of health. We need to restore those behaviors, those attitudes and those practices that 500 years of colonial oppression have drummed out of us in our communities and that have been kept underground and need to be supported so they can flourish. We have to find ways in our communities to make a place for the medicines to sit with us once again.

The Charging Twenties: Now is the Time to Build a Solar-Powered Civilization

Visionary clean energy entrepreneur Danny Kennedy explores the promise and challenges of the epic civilizational transition to renewable energy. Without doubt, the shift has hit the fan, but will we make the transition in time to avert complete climate breakdown? Danny Kennedy says we can – and the real heroes and sheroes will be millions of clean energy entrepreneurs and startups, in partnership with the determined leadership of Indigenous Peoples arising worldwide.

Featuring

Danny Kennedy, with a long background in eco activism, has become one of the nation’s leading figures in clean-technology entrepreneurship and the capitalization of the transition to a “green” economy. Kennedy is currently CEO of New Energy Nexus, a global nonprofit providing funds, accelerators, and networks to drive clean energy innovation and adoption.

Credits

  • Executive Producer: Kenny Ausubel
  • Written by: Kenny Ausubel
  • Senior Producer and Station Relations: Stephanie Welch
  • Host and Consulting Producer: Neil Harvey
  • Program Engineer and Music Supervisor: Emily Harris
  • Producer: Teo Grossman

This is an episode of the Bioneers: Revolution from the Heart of Nature series. Visit the radio and podcast homepage to find out how to hear the program on your local station and how to subscribe to the podcast.

Subscribe to the Bioneers: Revolution from The Heart of Nature podcast


Transcript

Neil Harvey (Host): In this episode, visionary clean energy entrepreneur Danny Kennedy explores the promise and challenges of the epic civilizational transition to renewable energy. Without doubt, the shift has hit the fan, but will we make the transition in time to avert complete climate breakdown? Danny Kennedy says we can – and the real heroes and sheroes will be millions of clean energy entrepreneurs and startups, in partnership with the determined leadership of Indigenous Peoples arising worldwide.

I’m Neil Harvey. This is “The Charging Twenties: Now is the Time to Build a Solar-Powered Civilization”. On the Bioneers: Revolution from the Heart of Nature.

Energy is a nation’s master resource. Each global empire has had an idiosyncratic ability to exploit a particular energy source that propelled its rise to economic power. The Dutch learned how to tap wood, wind and water. The British empire fueled its ascendancy on coal. The American empire has dominated with oil.

The cautionary tale is this: No empire has been able to manage the transition to the next energy source. The joker in the deck this time around is the climate imperative to fast-forward the transition off fossil fuels worldwide. It requires the most complex and fiercely urgent transformation in the history of human civilization. Nothing like it has ever been done before.

A new energy economy is going to require the reinvention of every aspect of our industries and lives. It’s going to take visionary leaders committed to a green and fair future, who also have a deep working knowledge of technology, economy and politics. They’ve got to know how to make change happen on a very large scale – all the while fighting ferocious resistance from the retrograde fossil fuel industry desperate to delay its looming demise.

One of these practical leaders is Danny Kennedy. He’s currently CEO of New Energy Nexus, a cutting-edge global nonprofit platform that provides funds, accelerators and networks to drive clean energy adoption and entrepreneurial innovation worldwide. Danny Kennedy spoke at a Bioneers conference.

Danny Kennedy speaking at Bioneers 2023

Danny Kennedy (DK): And today I’m going to talk to you about the mines we need to build and the stuff we need to do to get through the energy transition that we’ve begun this century, and the hard work and the hard choices that we’ve got to make this decade about some tough things, including maybe some holes in the ground that need to be built, because we have to finish the job we’ve begun to drive the solutions of climate change.

The good news is if we do it with a sort of approach in our hearts and heads, we can create a civilization just a decade or two hence which can actually live sustainably on this wonderful spaceship Earth forever. And that’s the prospect that we have to build this decade. This is the time. We are the generation. We always knew that, and now is the time to build.

Host: Danny Kennedy has long been at the forefront of clean energy adoption. Among many hats, he also serves as Managing Director of the California Clean Energy Fund, which finances early-stage companies driving innovation and building equity in the California economy. He has co-founded several clean energy companies, funds and enterprises around the world.

His earlier work beginning in the 1990’s with Greenpeace and Project Underground put him on the front lines of stopping destructive mining and extractive projects. His activism against a gold mine in Indonesia led to his arrest, interrogation, and deportation from Papua New Guinea.

He says the clock has run out for what he calls “fossil fools.” In fact, in 2023 for the first time ever, global investment in renewable energy surpassed investment in fossil fuels. Predictably, the backlash from this zombie industry is fast and furious.

DK: They did damage for 200 years from extraction through pollution, and it was never going to end. We were locked in, by the turn of the century, with China, in particular, having just begun to get its coal out of the ground, to be the factory for the world, as well as to bring hundreds of millions of humans into electricity services like we take for granted in places like the U.S.– India, China do the same.

But we realized that we had a problem, Houston. We had to decarbonize this system of electricity and mobility services that we’d become dependent on in the 20th century, and we were wondering, pretty legitimately, to be honest, at the turn of the century which technology set would we depend on for our civilization going forward. Would it be fossil fools with carbon capture and storage? No, that’s bullshit, as it turns out. Would it be a nuclear renaissance? No, it’s not going to be that. Would it be wet renewables, wave power and maybe hydro done better, run a river or something or other?

Overlooking the solar photovoltaic panels and agricultural planting temperature shed / Shutterstock

As it’s emerged, as the market has had its head, it’s become clear we’re going to be a solar-powered civilization, and the big nuclear reactor in the sky does plenty of good work, shining its lights on us every day, and we can capture it through photovoltaics and wind turbines, which the wind is transferring the heat on the Earth around. And the reason it’s won the race, the question of which technology would be the winner, is simply cost. It’s the lowest way to produce electricity ever in the history of the world, and we’re seeing that now.

And in 2014, we hit a point we call grid parity when our electricity was cheaper than anyone else’s electricity. And the thing is, the more we do it, the cheaper it gets. It’s called a technology curve versus a resource curve, where a finite thing gets more expensive because it’s scarce the more you use it. This stuff’s getting cheaper the more we build it.

Host: The takeaway is disarmingly simple: Fast-forward the transition to renewables – and electrify everything everywhere all at once. Of course, it’s easier said than done.

DK: Of course there was the problem of [LAUGHTER] when the wind don’t blow and the sun don’t shine. [LAUGHTER] You know the story. We had to fix for that. And so we lent into the periodic table and we did some green chemistry and we came up with the highest energy atoms that we could in lithium, a technology we’d commercialized in the 1970s for our Walkmans and made better through our personal electronics boom in the nineties, and we started putting them in cars, and then on the grid. And so we solved for the problem of storage of all this abundant sunshine that comes to Earth and we can transition into electricity with these batteries that we’re now making at speed and scale.

And thanks to the Chinese, really, for doing that. In 2017, there was a moment where the startup BYD made the fleet of taxis and buses in the city of Shenzhen of 20 million people go electric in one year, and that kind of proved that batteries on wheels could store all the sunshine that they were producing in the nearby electricity markets and go from dirty to clean.

Host: But just how renewable is renewable energy? Is it possible to have a so-called “green” lithium industry if it still requires endless extraction?

Ironically, after starting his career opposing mining, Danny Kennedy now found himself facing the triage of climate disruption: How do we end fossil fuels and also get off the destructive extractive cycle, while we still need mining for the time being to build the clean energy future?

DK: Here’s this stuff called lithium. We thought it was only for pharmaceutical purposes until three Nobel Prize-winning scientists created some batteries out of it in ’71-ish. We used it for Walkmans in its first commercial application.

Then around the turn of the century, some geeks down in Silicon Valley were actually wiring these little rechargeable batteries together and driving their go-kart roadsters around on them, and that became a company we now know as Tesla. And that has disrupted the automobile sector, the oil and gas industry, the grid storage and so forth, all with the incredible reality of this lithium element, which sits in the periodic table right up there with hydrogen and helium – lithium, beryllium, boron – right at the top; very strong energy density and potential for exchange, which is why it’s going to continue to be used in battery chemistries.

Good news is lithium’s very common in the world. In fact, in seawater it exists at significant parts per million and is probably a future source of—from the desalination of seawater. Right now, most of the lithium in the world comes out of hard rock mining in Australia, about 60% of it. We dig rocks up in Australia, put them on ships, take them to China, burn them in furnaces for a few weeks in a sulfuric acid bath, and extract the lithium out of the rock that way.

Another very big resource of lithium and a significant source of lithium in the economy today is in South America in the so-called lithium triangle of Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, where it is coming out of salt waters underground, but they evaporate it through salt ponds. So quite destructive on Indigenous land in Atacama Desert. That’s the other big source that’s expanding in the world.

The world is going to probably 10x this decade or more the need for lithium to drive all the vehicles and do all the things, and electrify everything, so everyone’s scrambling for new resources, new sources and reserves. Trying to produce better green lithium.

Host: But is “green” lithium a contradiction in terms? Here the story gets gnarly – literally.

DK: Here we produce about 10% of California’s electricity with geothermal power plants. The San Andreas fault is squirting water out of the magma, coming up through the geological structures, dissolving everything in its path. And that all comes to the surface, and who knows what that all is. They call it a gnarly brine. That’s the technical term. It’s got a lot of shit in it, and it’s all dissolved at super high temperatures.

They’ve been studying it for 40 years, they’ve been producing this steam to the surface, it’s not a lot of toxics. There are some things in there that we would be careful of in high concentration.  As they bring this hot water off the San Andreas fault to the surface, to get the steam to generate the turbines, the water cools down and a whole lot of salts precipitate out of it. Lithium is one of the salts there that they can take out commercially. To take the salt out of it obviously has an environmental impact. So I mean I’m not saying it’s without footprint. It has a footprint.

The first bottles of lithium solution, which becomes lithium carbonate, lithium hydroxide, which the precursor chemicals into the lithium battery supply chain, we have sort of all held in our hands in the last months, which is a very exciting thing, because we’ve been talking about this since 2019, when we wrote a report called Building Lithium Valley.

So we’re on the cusp of green lithium with almost zero additional carbon footprint at the scale of about 300 kilotons a year, which was probably what America consumed in 2020, not what it will consume in 2030, but a good chunk of what we need. This system is such that we can extract a certain amount of this material onto the surface into the economy, and two decades hence, we should just be cycling that. We don’t need to go back to the well. We can just keep a recycling system going and use it in perpetuity, which is this wonderful abundant solar-powered civilization stored in lithium that we’ve already got in the system if we do all this right.

Host: Scale matters. The total amount of lithium that’s necessary to mine by 2050 is a fraction of 1% compared with coal, oil and gas. But even if lithium can be recycled at scale in a closed loop within 20 years, how do we avoid replicating the same broken economic paradigm: the extraction of concentrated wealth by giant corporations? 

Once again, the story gets gnarly.

The California lithium project centers on the Salton Sea, an environmental justice calamity caused in 1904 after a dam broke and the Colorado River flooded the Imperial Valley. Today, the Salton Sea’s primary water source is nearby agribusiness farm runoff, which is riddled with fertilizers, heavy metals and toxics. It’s on Indigenous lands long held sacred by tribes, in a poor, largely Latino county whose average family annual income is $13,500 dollars. And the toxic mess has resulted in a poisonous dust that’s killing community members, including children.

What social and economic impacts will industrial-scale lithium mining have on the 180,000 community members? Who will benefit?

Aerial View of a Geothermal Energy Plant in the Imperial Valley of California near the Salton Sea / Shutterstock

DK: One of the things that happened last year with this lithium conversation, because it’s starting to get interesting from the industrial development point of view, like $4 billion of investment were announced last year. I mean, it’s all paper tiger stuff; they’re not real investments until they’re real investments, but, you know, big battery factories are being talked about in this place. OEM, meaning automobile manufacturers, are talking about building things nearby and facilities and so forth – billions and billions of dollars, which this town hasn’t seen for a while. Right?

And the state legislature did impose a tax, which was hard fought. You probably didn’t even hear about it in the news. But this was a big deal because it says initially $400 or $700 a ton, up to $1,000 a ton will be taxed on every ton of lithium extracted from the ground and sold to be recycled into the community for community benefit. We got a lithium severance tax effectively written in the law. There’s no lithium of note being produced, so it doesn’t mean anything right now, but at least there’s that prospect.

This tribal community has this incredible land right, which is kind of a weird twist of fate, which is they can buy 11,000 acres anywhere in this region because they had their land buried by the Salton Sea. So, you know, oh, you want to build a giga factory, LG Chem, you need some land for that? You want that land? I can buy that land, and I’m a sovereign nation that can do whatever is necessary to do it. But the sovereign nation is smart enough to know we want to do that the best way possible.

Host: The Torres Martinez band of the Cahuilla Indian Tribe owns 11,400 acres below the Salton Sea, with rights to purchase 11,500 adjacent acres. Rather than leasing the valuable development rights that will pipeline the profits to corporate headquarters, the tribe is organizing itself as a sovereign nation to reinvent the tribal business economy through its own ownership, development and entrepreneurship.

While protecting its cultural and natural assets, including its language and history, the tribe is designing sustainable development plans, including youth entrepreneurial accelerators.

Jesus Arguelles, a business consultant to the Torres Martinez band, calls it “servant capitalism” intended to create an eco-industrial zone providing good jobs and an inclusive economy.

Needless to say, there are serious issues and concerns. Many Native people are justifiably skeptical of any kind of commercial mining, whose long history of environmental racism and eco-apartheid is well documented. There are also environmental unknowns. Disturbing the deep briny watershed could provoke earthquakes, although there has been marginal such increase from the existing hydropower plants – at least so far. The historical echoes of false promises by techno-utopians and the imperious greed of corporate interests resound throughout the community. Yet at the same time, climate breakdown necessitates the imperative for large-scale action. Welcome to 21st Century triage.

When we return, how California is setting the pace for the clean energy revolution and a just transition that elevates those who’ve been hurt first and worst by petro-colonial legacies – how China and India are electrifying – and how millions of clean energy entrepreneurs may be the heroes and sheroes of this epic transition…

I’m Neil Harvey. You’re listening to The Bioneers…

Host: How fast the massive clean energy transition remains a wild card, but some things are certain: The fossil fuel industry will use every trick in its playbook to obstruct the decarbonization of the economy – and big business will do anything and everything to prevent the democratization of the economy. Again, Danny Kennedy.

DK: I see two big psy-ops in the sort of media and messaging war that’s out there. One is saying that it’s sort of an apples and apples experience, what-about-ism, you know, this transition to clean energy’s going to do just as much destruction, so don’t worry about it, just hang out with fossil fuels. This sort of false equivalency that the mining required for lithium batteries, for example, is just as bad as fossil fuels.

The other is that the start-ups and the innovators and the disrupters in the community, activists and the organizers that are trying to build community wealth through this transition because of the innate justice built into a distributed energy architecture that could be locally-owned and democratically-controlled, they can’t deliver it on time. You’ve got to depend on the big guys.

It’s almost like this is a trap, a script that’s been put into the executive offices of these oil companies over the last few years. They’re repeating and repeating this message, partly to spread fear, uncertainty and doubt, which has been their game for 30, 40 years, but also just in case they want to try to capture the initiative and take the market, and do the next century just as they’ve dominated the last.

Host: As the fifth largest economy in the world, California is on a path to 100% renewable energy and a decarbonized economy by 2045. By 2023, it had already reached 31% renewable energy, up from about 4% just a decade earlier.

Can California’s ambitious trajectory go national and global? Given that we’re already in climate overtime, can we quicken the pace? Danny Kennedy says the kinds of entrepreneurship and startups that New Energy Nexus supports are crucial.

DK: And so here we are in the 2020s. We’ve got to just electrify everything. There are a billion machines here in the States that have to be switched over from thermal system to electric, and 10 billion systems around the world.

We’re obviously going too slow, and we need to speed this up. California 2035, not 2045. Come on, people. We’ve got to build some new muscles. We really have to do things differently, including build stuff. We’ve got to go back to the future, really, and the indigenous wisdom and the leadership of communities of color, [APPLAUSE] the people who have been hurt first and worst, those living with the legacies of fossil fuels that are actually leading the way.

The lift we have to do this decade, we’re less than half of our economy electric right now, and that’s a big lift. We’ve built a lot of renewables that we can’t interconnect to the grid because of transmission delays and pipelines and things.

Where we are seeing leadership for this in the States, I could talk about the amazing people in Standing Rock that are standing up wind farms as well, or the Yurok up in Northern California that have built out the resilience microgrid at Blue Lake Rancheria and are helping the offshore wind industry grow out of Humboldt Bay.

But, I have the privilege of working with 150 amazing folk around the world, supporting start-ups in many countries to get this energy transition done. We support diverse entrepreneurs with justice and equity in, so we get justice and equity out of this transformation. We’ve had 880 companies come up since I joined the outfit in 2016. We’ve supported thousands of entrepreneurs, put $50 million into them, and we’re trying to redress the gender injustice that’s inherent in the energy industry, as well as in start-ups, seeing more generally with some success, although, always more work to do. And we’re seeing this upswelling, this Cambrian explosion of this opportunity that is actually happening in real time in the world.

Host: Addressing climate disruption is intrinsically a global game. No country can do it alone. In particular, China and India are make-it-or-break-it players.

Just on rooftops, China is supplying 50 gigawatts of solar annually, the energy equivalent of what 15 nuclear power plants produce in one year. It’s also still burning gobs of coal and building coal plants.

Meanwhile, India has adopted a potentially game-changing national solar mission. It’s playing out in unexpected places where it really counts.

Electric auto rickshaws at charging station in New Delhi, India. Credit: PradeepGaurs / Shutterstock

DK: Just like five years ago, India was being talked about as this ticking time bomb on climate because they’re going to get electricity for all their people, and now they’re doing it with solar and wind at a scale and speed which is almost hard to imagine. And that is spilling over into their mobility markets, where vehicle miles traveled in India are mostly on two and three-wheel vehicles. I think the rickshaws in Delhi or the mopeds in Mumbai, 85% of people get around that way, and that is all electrifying because this low-cost, abundant electricity is spilling out of the system and charging batteries all over the market. And that is actually destroying demand for oil in the world, like millions of barrels a day is actually being reduced from global demand by the electrification of mobility.

And we’re seeing this everywhere. In Indonesia, we’ve got a company in our portfolio that’s doing it for hot swappable batteries for the two wheelers there. We’ve got a company that actually came up in Berkeley, California, called Powerhive, that is taking boda bodas electric in East Africa. Boda bodas are like the taxis in Kenya that they’ve got hot-swappable battery platforms for.

Host: Similar kinds of radical shifts are now disrupting marine transportation. Hundreds of millions of humans move around rivers and coasts in small gas-powered, emissions-belching boats that are now starting to go electric too, and it’s much cheaper.

One challenge to meet the needs of the transition is the lack of a U.S. manufacturing base. Another is the dearth of training for the people and skills needed, as well as practical support for small businesses.

Now, says Danny Kennedy, is the time to unite to build a solar-powered civilization…

DK: We literally need millions of businesses to deliver the electric everything – the appliances, the induction stoves in the houses, the marine transportation, mechanic shops to switch out the motors or whatever. You know? And there’s not enough getting into that game. And then there’s not enough workers to work in those workforces. Just electricians to electrify everything, you need electricians. We’re short at least 100,000 in the United States for what we think we need done. The rest of the world, forget about it.

And this I think is actually the big one: it’s geopolitics. We are talking about “them and us”, and we’re creating a desire to dominate these supply chains and these industries, instead of we are all in this together, we must collaborate, we have one decade to do this, people, and we cannot fall out. You know?

The saber rattling is frightening to me, and I’m not pretending the Chinese are above this at all either, but we need to get together and not let the scarcity mindset of the past and these men and their toys and the military industrial complex and their businesses drag us and our children into a distraction rather than do the work that needs done this decade.

Now is the moment. The 2020s is the decade we knew was going to be the turning point inflection. We are on the path. We must stay the course. Do not get distracted. This is the time to build. These are the charging ‘20s, the time that history will look back upon in which we built the solar-powered civilization we all yearn for. Shine on! [APPLAUSE]

Host: Danny Kennedy, shining on.

“The Charging Twenties: Now is the Time to Build a Solar-Powered Civilization”

What Can I Do About the Climate Emergency?

News of wildfires and floods can make climate chaos seem imminent and inevitable, but there is more to the picture. In the background of these climate catastrophes is another story, one that is more complicated but also more hopeful. Renewable energy has improved backing and is multiplying, battery materials and storage have dramatically advanced, and the public is far more engaged than it was only a decade ago. In the below guide to taking action on the climate emergency, writer, historian and activist Rebecca Solnit argues that we have the solutions — the real obstacles are political. 

“What Can I Do about the Climate Emergency?” offers a practical guide to get involved, starting with identifying whom to work with and what to work on. Whether your niche is backing legislation, campaigning, protesting, or making calls and writing letters from home, it all matters, and it’s all needed. The guide walks through the steps, including getting informed, choosing your scale, and finding a group, as well as outlines the four main areas for action: fossil fuel; democracy and human rights; the human landcape; and the natural world. Solnit says national legislation and international treaties matter, but so do the countless small pieces that add up. This is how you begin. 

Check out the guide and watch Solnit’s talk at the 2023 Bioneers conference.