When the ecologist Carl Safina took in a wounded baby screech owl, he expected that she’d be a temporary guest, just like other wild orphans he and his wife Patricia had rescued over the years. But the tiny creature—named Alfie—took a long time to heal. Carl and Patricia could never have predicted that when Alfie was finally able to live free, she would choose to maintain a connection and establish her territory with their home at its center, attract a wild mate, and raise her babies right outside their studio window. Nor could they have guessed that the Covid-19 pandemic would grant the graciousness of time to form a profound bond with Alfie, while Alfie and her brood provided solace and sanity in a year upended.
The little owl had for more than a year been living a comfortable, healthy life. A developmental setback stemming from her near-death infancy had delayed her departure. Now she was in perfect health, her new feathers soft and sleek and luminous with youth. She was a strong and excellent flyer who could execute tight turns and precision pounces. And she was perfectly at home in her roomy enclosure. But I knew—as she did not—the relative meaninglessness of a life without risks. An owl who is not out doing owly things is just a bird in a cage. But after this soft and secure salvation, could I really subject her to those meaningful risks? How “meaningful” would be injury, or starvation, or getting eaten? All this was on my mind that morning as she flew from the coop to me while I was offering her food. But it was she who made the decision. She merely touched my arm and flew across the yard, and suddenly was taking in the world from a new vantage point atop a tree. She hadn’t vanished. Not instantly. Not yet. She had been braided into our life. But now she was tugging back, pulling us into hers.
The Covid-19 pandemic that forced us to spend our year at home coincided with the unprecedented free-living presence of that tame little owl—rescued near death and raised among humans and dogs and chickens—who decided to stay around our backyard, got herself a wild mate, and became a mother who successfully raised three youngsters. Despite the pandemic and partly because of it, the year generated some good memories to ameliorate the not-so-good. The owl, the songbirds, and our pets gave us a daily off-ramp from the jammed-up highway of worries and dread. This is one story of profound beauties and magical timing harbored within a year upended.
Even in a “normal” year the perspective she offered would have felt like something new, a deeper perception of being. The little owl in this story is a living being in all the ordinary, extraordinary ways. But she is in no sense “just an owl.” Our deeply shared history as living things is why we had the mutual capacity to recognize each other, and share that strange binding called trust. She was my little friend.
Had the year proceeded as planned, my scheduled travels would have caused me to miss all the fine details of her life, courtship, mating, and their raising of youngsters. Had the year proceeded as it did—but without her—it would have been all the more grueling. She was literally a bright thing in our nights. She was a metaphor for sanity, at a time when sanity seemed increasingly at risk.
When Alfie was first discovered, near death.
One can travel the world and go nowhere. One can be stuck at home and discover a new world. This was a year in which we stayed closer but saw farther. We came to see the many ways in which our daily existence is strange and romantic, unpredictable and quirky, buoyed and burdened with exotic customs as any place is. Home is always too close and yet too distant for us to fully know it. It can take a kind of magic spell to let us see the miracles in our everyday routines. Our enabling wizard was the little owl.
Something like a trillion and a half times, daylight has rolled across our planet of changes. About how we came to be, we are privileged to understand a few things. Devoted workers have lifted some sketches from layers of clay, from cells of the living, and from the lights of distant galaxies. No two days are the same, regardless of how small and petty and blurry we make them, how much we blunt our edge on imaginary surfaces that would be better avoided. Written in every rock and leaf and the lyrics of every birdsong are invitations. If we accept, and attend, we see that billion-year histories are the thrust that sends each blade of grass, that dreamscapes whirr within each traveling shadow.
My easy intimacy with an owl helped me understand what is possible when we soften our sense of contrast at the species boundary. My growing relationship with her made me want to better understand how people have viewed humanity’s relationship with nature throughout history. Why do we happen to have a strained relationship with the natural world? What are that relationship’s origins? Why didn’t we make a better deal with the world—and ourselves? How have other cultures throughout time and around the globe seen humanity’s place in the world?
Turns out, it’s complicated. Origins of values run deep. From antiquity, various peoples developed different realms of thought about the human being’s role in the world. I came to see four major traditional realms of beliefs and values: those of Indigenous, South Asian, East Asian, and European or “Western” traditions. The deep cultural past holds astounding power to clarify the sources of illumination and darkness that cast their light and shadows across the lives we live today.
A few years ago I traveled to Rome and to India. Italy’s magnificent sacred art varies mainly upon themes of people either writhing in agony as they are cast into eternal fire, or ascending to heavenly bliss. Little celebrates life itself. India’s ancient temples shocked me. The subject of their thousands of stone carvings includes abundant images of humans, sometimes with other animals, in various acts that would get you cast into eternal hellfire in Rome. Why, I wondered aloud, were holy temples covered with what the West would call pornography, or to put it nicely, freeform eroticism?
“Not erotic,” my mentor explained. “Sacred. Sex brings life. The West thought sex is dirty because they believe life is impure; your religious art worships only what is in heaven. To our religions and the artists of our temples, life is sacred. So what brings life is sacred.”
That brief, stunning, exchange not only exposed sharp contrasts but suddenly cast Western values in a lighter shade of pale.
Hindus perceived the creation, continuity, and decomposition of life; and assigned a corresponding divine trinity—Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva—who preside, respectively, over each of those major aspects of lived existence. Their Bhagavad Gita enshrines principles for human relationships with nature, the divine, and society. Meanwhile Christianity’s trinity, the “father, son, and holy ghost”—Christians say they’re three “persons” in one god—corresponds to little about Earthly life. The focus is resolutely on “Our father, who art in heaven,” not here with us.
The French Revolution rallied for “Liberty, equality, fraternity.” That’s a distinctly more pro-social trinity than the U.S.’s me-first, “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” The U.S. Constitution proclaims, “all men are created equal” but in practice, “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” is the starting gun of a rat race that confers domination to some and alienation to many.
Why not something more uplifting? I see another trinity. Beyond me, beyond us, beyond now. Imagine a nation predicated on pursuit of: community, compassion, understanding, commitment, environment, equality, creativity, beauty, service, health, nurture, nature, and what’s next. Trinities are catchy, so pick any three. Imagine this: having the enshrined right not to compete, but—to matter.
Alfie and her mate.
Alfie has had the chance to matter. Now five years old, still free-living and often seen in our backyard, she has raised three broods with her wild mate and sent ten young owls out into the world. Rescued near death, and despite the pressures humanity places on her kind, she has become a link in the great chain of being—with a little help from her friends. This little being able to see into darkness has helped put a little more light into my eyes.
Leseliey Welch and Indra Lusero are parents and birth justice advocates who are helping lead a movement to create community birth centers across the nation. To help address the maternal and infant mortality crisis, they’re realizing a vision where midwives are the leaders in care in a reclamation of the normal physiologic process of birth. They say birth centers provide racially and culturally reverent care founded in safety, love and trust.
Leseliey Welch
“Imagine a world where birth is safe, sacred, loving and celebrated for everyone,” says Leseliey Welch. “Imagine giving birth with midwives in a community birth center designed in response to the dreams, hopes, and needs of the community it calls home.”
Welch is co-founder and CEO of Birth Detroit, the first midwifery-led birth center in Detroit, which is set to open in the spring of 2024. She shared her vision at a Bioneers conference:
“You walk through the door so happy to be able to receive care at a community birth center right in your neighborhood. You, your partner and your children are greeted by name, maybe even with warm hugs. You are asked how you are doing, and you can tell that the person asking genuinely cares. They offer you water, tea, snacks, and you settle into a cozy sofa. There are shelves of birth, nutrition, breastfeeding and parenting books for you to borrow, and a little toy nook in which your little ones can play.
“In the examining room, you feel at home with the warm colors and cozy furniture. Your partner even feels they belong here too, with posters celebrating Black and Brown fathers and disabled, queer and trans bodies. Your midwife greets you, and you remember how relieved you felt the first time you met, knowing that they were from your community. They welcome your whole family to the visit. Your kids listen to the baby and see them on the ultrasound. Your midwife asks you about how you’ve been feeling physically and emotionally, what you’ve been eating and how much rest you’ve been getting. They talk with the whole family about ways to connect with the baby and how to support you. It’s unlike any medical care appointment you have ever had, and when it’s time to go, you almost don’t want to leave.
“When you go into labor, there’s no frantic rush to the hospital. Your partner calls the midwife, the midwife reminds you what active labor looks and feels like and how to know when it’s time to come into the birth center. Hours later, you’re on your way. You walk into your birth suite and breathe a sigh of relief. Your midwife is there, and they have prepared for your birth journey. You feel loved knowing you can labor where and how you feel called to. Your power playlist comes through the speakers while you move and sway and breathe. You walk some. You sit on the toilet for a time. (Y’all know that’s comfortable if you’ve had a baby.) And then you move to the birthing tub.
“Your partner whispers reminders of your beauty, your strength, your power. A familiar scent wafts from the kitchen where family is warming food they prepared for you earlier. Your kids are playing in the living room of the birth center. And labor is hard work, yet your surroundings are soft and gentle. You feel seen, heard, honored and supported, letting go of any concerns that you can’t do this.
“You feel your baby’s head emerge. The midwife’s eyes are reassuring. You change positions at will, responding to the knowing in your body. The surges come with more intensity. You may burrow into your partner’s chest. The newest member of your family arrives Earth-side in this sacred container of love, and everyone and everything is forever changed.”
From Othering to Belonging
Leseliey Welch has long held this vision for community birth centers. She is co-founder and co-director of Birth Center Equity, a national initiative to help Black, Indigenous and people of color overcome the barriers to opening holistic birth centers in their communities — the most negatively impacted in the country’s maternal and infant mortality crisis.
As a Black mother of color and queer person, she knows from experience what a difference specific kinds of care can make – including making the difference between life and death.
“I am doing the work that both breaks and opens my heart,” says Welch. “I know the joy and grief of pregnancy and childbirth. I’ve had a preterm baby myself. I’ve spent time in the NICU with my baby myself. And I have grieved a loss. I have had a rainbow baby, born on their due date and barely made it to the hospital. And I’ve also been present with my family when my nephew was born and passed away the same day – born too small, too soon. At that time, I worked at the city health department in maternal child health, and I would later read his name on the list of infants we lost that year.
“I share that not to ground us in grief. I want us to center on vision, but I also want to honor the grief and loss that comes with our birth experiences. The visioning is joyful, but it can also sometimes feel painful when we know that our births were nothing like that vision. Every day, I work toward that vision because it’s the vision I wish my brother and sister-in-law had; it’s the vision that would be the reason my nephew is still here; and it’s the vision we all deserve.”
Indra Lusero
Indra Lusero is the founder and director of Elephant Circle, a Colorado-based organization that also works nationally on birth justice and reproductive rights.
“About 22 years, having completed the childbirth preparation courses at the local hospital, I, nonetheless, knew that something was missing,” says Lusero. “I was not the gestational parent of my oldest son. We had already been through countless experiences of being othered and excluded from healthcare; we were told that we couldn’t have a family in this way; we couldn’t do this. So we were already at this place that people told us we couldn’t be.”
Inspiration for the name Elephant Circle came from how elephants give birth in the wild. The whole herd circles around the laboring elephant. They stay for the duration — connected, emoting, supportive. At this sacred and vulnerable moment of emergence, the elephants form a circle of protection and defense.
Lusero believes that’s what humans need to do too.
As a queer Latinx person, Lusero’s experience reflects the kinds of judgment, bias and othering that queer, lesbian and gay couples routinely face in this profoundly intimate and vulnerable journey.
“I had this sense that there was basically a soul missing from this care that we had been so far receiving,” says Lusero. “I didn’t know what to do about that fact, I just knew it. I ended up just asking people, ‘Isn’t there something else? I feel like there should be something else.’ Fortunately, I was connected with a woman who’s a midwife in the community. They met with my partner of the time and me for an hour, sharing with us this alternative vision, helping me feel like I was right, there is something more, something else here.
“At that time, my partner wasn’t able to make the leap mentally to planning for a home birth after having planned this whole gestation for a hospital birth. So this midwife agreed to be our doula and go into the hospital with us, undeniably and totally transforming that experience. I am 100% confident that it would have been totally different if we hadn’t made that connection.”
The Intersection of Poverty, Race, and Healthcare Disparities in Maternal Mortality Crisis
The contextual ground truth is the scandalous maternal health crisis. Among developed countries, the U.S. has the highest infant and maternal mortality rates – triple the others. And it’s only been getting worse. Between 1999 and 2019, the number of U.S. women who died within a year of pregnancy doubled.
Poverty and race play a key role. Women in counties with middle and high poverty face a 60-100% greater risk of death. Black women are three times more likely to die from a pregnancy-related cause than white women. Indigenous women are also at greater risk.
Lack of access to quality health care can also be deadly. Half of all U.S. counties don’t even have an OBGYN. And fully a third to half of deaths occur in the first three months postpartum – after delivery – when hospitals seldom follow up beyond perhaps one in-office visit at six weeks postpartum.
Studies show that having access to quality health care would prevent 40% of all maternity deaths, regardless of race or socio-economic background.
“Survival should be the least of what we expect and hope for,” says Leseliey Welch. “The idea that we meet and speak to mamas who are so afraid of having their babies and have even been in conversation with a mama who was saying, ‘I just didn’t want to die,’ is horrific.
“There are elements of hospital care that are unsafe for many of us, not just Black and Brown people. Feeling safe, being heard, feeling valued, having a comprehensive care experience, having greater respect and autonomy, all of those things impact our outcomes.
“We should aspire to safe, quality, loving care for every birthing person. One of the things that we lift up and believe at Birth Center Equity is that birth centers are part and parcel of the answer to the maternal health crisis in our communities.”
Improving Outcomes
There is ample evidence that one key to better birth outcomes for parent, mother and child is the involvement of midwives and doulas from the beginning of pregnancy to several months after birth. Birth centers offer a fundamentally different paradigm anchored in preventative care. Indra Lusero and Leseliey Welch say that the participation of doulas and midwives provides the safest and most positive experience for a person giving birth.
“Doulas are the non-clinical support providers,” says Lusero. “They’re there for the laboring person to provide emotional, physical support, encouragement, education, and a sense of what’s going to happen.
“The midwife is a clinical provider. I think of midwifery as the original perinatal care provider, preceding even the profession of medicine. People have always had midwives. Humans need assistance during childbirth partly because of our big heads, but also upright position. That, in particular, makes it such that humans can’t totally handle birth alone, like some mammals.”
“When we think about our care systems, midwives as specialists in normal physiological birth, as trained healthcare professionals, have been devalued,” says Welch. “What we know from a public health perspective is that midwifery-led care results in a better experience and better birth outcomes, and is what we call value-based care or a very efficient use of resources for the value that midwives add.”
According to data from Maternal Mortality Review Committees, including midwives in the healthcare system could prevent more than 80% of maternal and infant deaths. In the U.K., where midwives deliver more than half of babies, the mortality rate for mothers is more than three times lower than in the U.S.
Along with reducing both maternal and infant mortality, midwifery-led care results in fewer preterm births, fewer low-weight babies, and greater rates of breastfeeding.
A Long History of Exclusion
Given that the benefits of midwifery are well documented, why aren’t midwives playing a central role in the birth process in the U.S.? Leseliey Welch and Indra Lusero observe that, starting a century ago, the medical profession launched a deliberate national campaign to eliminate midwives entirely.
“Midwives were framed as a problem,” says Lusero. “But the problem that midwives posed to doctors of that era, in particular, was the fact that women and women of color and women of low socioeconomic status, and immigrant women, could serve people in the perinatal period and do it well. That challenged the prestige of white male doctors who wanted to also work in that realm.”
“You’ll also find campaigns that were highly racialized, that undermined Black midwifery in particular, describing Black midwives as unclean and uneducated, and ignorant,” says Welch. “It was political, cultural, multi-layered.”
“It coincided with this historical moment too,” says Lusero. “It was at the beginning of the Jim Crow era. It was the beginning of the Reorganization Act in terms of federal Indian law and policy. Eugenics had informed a lot of the preeminent scholars and thinkers of the day too, so there was this idea that society could be improved through reproduction. Managing the reproduction of society was the key to advancing society.”
“When you have this deliberate undermining and shift, then you simultaneously have a cultural shift to the medicalization of childbirth,” says Welch. “Because in order to keep birthing people coming into hospitals to have their babies, we had to be convinced it was the safest place to have our babies. And from an evidence-based perspective, that is actually untrue.”
Yet to this day, the campaign against midwives continues. Apart from structural and policy barriers, midwives can face harassment, such as challenges to their licenses and actual criminal investigations and charges.
Profits, C-Sections, and the Rise of Birth Centers in Modern Maternity Care
The profit-driven advent of the medical-industrial complex in the U.S. in the 1920s ushered in the medicalization of birth. Following its relentless campaign to eliminate midwives and home births, the number of in-hospital births rose from 40% in 1940 to 99% in 1955. Today it’s 98%.
With the average cost of U.S. maternity care at nearly $19,000, Uncle Sam spends far more on maternity care than countries with much better outcomes. By contrast, the cost in a birth center is generally half or less. As Leseliey Welch sums it up, “We pay the most and get the worst.”
As a case in point, 32% of in-hospital births are C-sections, which are both expensive and profitable. While C-sections put mothers at risk for a host of complications, studies show the involvement of midwives reduces C-sections to about 6%.
Nevertheless, the act of giving birth is intrinsically perilous. Midwives are professionally trained and certified providers equipped to identify problems before they become emergencies. When necessary, midwives help coordinate and manage next-level care, and hospitals are critically necessary for precisely such instances, and for those who simply feel safer there.
Meanwhile, birth centers are growing in popularity and have even attracted venture capitalists.
“Part of how Elephant Circle got involved in creating this network of birth centers is because a venture capitalist had started a birth center and then closed it because it didn’t have the profit margins that they wanted,” says Lusero. “Because it was such a treasured community resource, and Elephant Circle already mainly does policy work in this area, we wanted to see if we could save this community resource.
“Now that’s what we’re doing, and I think it does challenge and shift the economics. We’ve been curious, when folks like these venture capitalists say that it doesn’t have the profit margins they want, what are they really talking about? Because we know that it brings value, and we know that it’s a model that can pay for itself.”
The vision of birth centers that Leseliey Welch and Indra Lusero have been midwifing is emergent. According to the National Institutes of Health, home births increased by 77% from 2004–2017, while the number of birth center births more than doubled. The trend accelerated in 2020 when the COVID-19 pandemic made hospitals intensely dangerous places to be.
The approximately 400 U.S. community birth centers today were largely started and are owned by midwives. Because their work is devalued at large, there are structural barriers around payment systems, such as reduced Medicaid and insurance reimbursements, that make it hard to stay afloat.
The great majority of birth centers are owned by white midwives, which is where the Birth Center Equity network comes in. By 2023, it was working with 38 Black, Indigenous and people of color leaders who have opened 14 birth centers and are working actively to open 24 more. It costs about $4 million per startup.
If just 1% of the population shifted to birth centers or home births, it would save $187 million. A 10% shift would save billions. Birth Center Equity says those resources could be reallocated to opening and supporting more birth centers, while helping provide a sustainable business model, along with improved public health and social value.
Welch says another challenge is optimizing the so-called “fourth trimester” or postpartum period, which is the first three months after delivery. That’s a critical time that’s generally excluded or underserved by hospitals and when a third to half of maternal deaths occur.
“It’s like the baby comes out, and everybody goes away in terms of the care that our systems provide,” says Welch. “In that period of time, we need support and caring and help and advice and love and somebody to cook food and somebody to wash dishes and wash clothes and hold the baby while you take a shower. One of the things that taking birth out of communities has done is also take the community out of birth in a lot of ways. Birth, historically, in many of our cultures, was a family experience and a community experience.”
“Everybody knew what their role was when that happened in the community, and everybody had a role,” says Lusero. “At Elephant Circle, we’re developing a network of birth centers in Colorado, and we envision offering things in these centers like mental health services that are integrated, that people could come and get even if they didn’t give birth there. These centers can really improve public health. “
“At Birth Detroit, we’re building our birth center with the plan of creating space for other buildings on the property to house values-aligned providers,” says Welch. “When you’re coming to these spaces, you don’t have to wonder if you’re going to get a provider that is going to respect your gender or your attraction orientation or your race or religion because you’re coming to a space that is dedicated to providing care. In our case, our values are safety, love, trust and justice.”
“We know what better looks like and feels like,” says Lusero. “That’s another thing that heartens me: People know it in their bones. People know it in their bodies. People want better. They feel it in their cells.”
“My hope is that the tides will turn, and we will see a shift to a day when birth becomes a true moral, ethical, economic, and political priority, where we really invest in what the beginning looks like,” says Welch.
All significant movements for positive change are accompanied by outpourings of artistic expression that help open our eyes to injustice and convey powerful new visions and possibilities.
This key role of the arts in social movements is as true today as it’s ever been, and we at Bioneers have sought to feature the work of groundbreaking socially and eco-engaged artists from across different disciplines. It is our belief that without the inspiration and visions artists provide, we won’t be able to give life to the just civilization we aspire to have.
In this week’s newsletter, we’re sharing how arts have the ability to illustrate what facts cannot, making them an essential factor in nearly all successful movements.
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Performance by Jason Nious of Molodi
Jason Nious, a performing artist, creative director, and founder and director of the Las Vegas-based, award-winning body percussion ensemble, Molodi, performed at Bioneers 2023.
We are excited for art to play a vital, celebratory and transformational role at our 35th annual conference. Our mission is to program the 2024 conference with captivating, compelling and inspiring art, and we invite you to help us make this vision a reality.
How Black Creative Spaces Can Be Havens for Resistance
Art has always been a pillar of the life and culture of Blackness in America. From hiding Yoruba religious symbols in Christian iconography to singing of a liberated future in the so-called “negro-spirituals,” Black folks have used creativity to carve spaces that are gentle, loving and humanizing against the backdrop of a society that does not love on them. The “Black Creativity” collection explores transformative figures in Black art and creative culture. This article is part of Dreaming Out Loud, a media series written as part of the Bioneers Young Leaders Fellowship Program.
Rooted in various folk traditions, storytelling, and passionate grassroots activism, Rising Appalachia routinely provides a platform for local causes. In a time of social unraveling, Rising Appalachia’s unique interweaving of music and social mission and old traditions with new interpretations exudes contagious hope and deep integrity. The internationally touring world folk ensemble performed at Bioneers 2023. Learn more about Rising Appalachia here.
“The role of the artist is to make the revolution irresistible.” — Toni Cade Bambara
Discover the synergy of art and activism as talented artists, activists and storytellers share their work with Bioneers. Our Engaged Arts archive is filled with conference art galleries, artist interviews, videos and featured radio shows — all embodying the intersection of art and social change.
Based in Oakland, Calif., Wildchoir is a politically and socially engaged diverse group of vocalists, artists, activists, educators, healers and community organizers who join together in harmony. Their music has inspired thousands at marches, conferences and festivals across California, including Bioneers 2023.
Wildchoir’s debut EP, “Love Anyway,” is releasing on October 27 but can be purchased on Bandcamp now.
PST ART: Art & Science Collide will create opportunities for civic dialogue around some of the most urgent problems of our time by exploring past and present connections between art and science in a series of exhibitions, public programs and other resources. Project topics range from climate change and environmental justice to the future of artificial intelligence and alternative medicine.
Celebrate this year’s inspiring youth leaders at the 24th annual Brower Youth Awards ceremony on October 17th at Freight & Salvage in Berkeley, Calif. The theme for this year’s Brower Youth Awards is Moving Forward Together, a reminder that everyone has a role to play and is valued for their unique contributions to the environmental movement.
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:
Honoring Your Emotional Ecosystem | Starting November 14 | A grounded and surprising exploration of the healing genius in your emotional realm.
A Doorway into the Imaginal Expanse | December 6 | Create a home for your intuition, coax the artist within, and make soul commitments enriching our intraceptive landscape.
Yurok fisherman and tribal leader Sammy Gensaw and environmental scientist-turned-activist Craig Tucker share the epic story of how Indigenous leadership and non-Indian allyship made the impossible inevitable: the biggest-ever dam removal and salmon restoration in history. It represented a literal watershed moment; unprecedented co-equal decision-making between the tribes and their historical nemesis – the US government.
Once complete in 2024, the project will liberate the Klamath river and several tributaries to once again run free across 400-miles from Oregon through California and into the Pacific Ocean.
Featuring
Sammy Gensaw (Yurok) is the Founding Director of the Ancestral Guard, Artist, Yurok Language Speaker, Singer, Writer, Cultural/Political/Environmental Activist, Regalia Maker, Mediator, Youth Leader & Fisherman.
Craig Tucker has 20+ years of advocacy and activism experience, especially working with tribal members, fishermen and farmers in the Klamath Basin on dam removal, traditional fire management, gold mining, and water policy, and is the founder and Principal of Suits and Signs Consulting.
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
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
In this episode, Yurok fisherman and tribal leader Sammy Gensaw and environmental scientist-turned-activist Craig Tucker share the epic story of how Indigenous leadership and non-Indian allyship made the impossible inevitable: the biggest-ever dam removal and salmon restoration in history. It represented a literal watershed moment; unprecedented co-equal decision-making between the tribes and their historical nemesis – the US government.
I’m Neil Harvey. This is “The Restorative Revolution: How Indigenous Leadership and Allyship Catalyzed the Biggest River Restoration in U.S. History”.
In 2023, for only the second time in California’s history, the State declared a drought emergency and banned all salmon fishing on its coast and most of California’s rivers. The menacing reality of likely extinction loomed for this iconic fish, a keystone species for over 100 other organisms, and a staple food for the regions’ Native American tribal communities.
This almost unimaginable victory was led by Indigenous tribes – and for wild nature. It marked the epic climax of a more than century-old battle between the tribes and the U.S. government and private corporations.
The Klamath Project will mark the biggest dam removal in U.S. history. It also heralds the most ambitious river restoration ever undertaken. It will liberate the Klamath and several tributaries to once again run free across 400-miles from Oregon through California and into the Pacific Ocean.
The battle had come to a head in the early 1970s with the infamous “fish wars” when the tribes defied federal orders barring them from fishing. It was the beginning of the beginning of a dramatic reversal of fortune for the tribes and the river.
Yurok fisherman Sammy Gensaw is a descendant of those elders… He spoke at a Bioneers conference.
Sammy Gensaw speaking in a Bioneers 2023 panel
Sammy Gensaw(SG): First, I have to acknowledge the people who went through the fish wars to make sure that we can even have the rights to fight for dam removal. At one point in time, our grandparents were lined up across the river and they were faced against people with flak jackets, machine guns, they were getting their boats sunk, people were going missing, people were getting beat up, they were getting kidnapped. There were a lot of things that were happening with the fish wars.
And when that happened, we were at war with the United States government. They were coming for our people and they were coming for our land and our water, and they didn’t want us to exist. And so these are the people who stood up before our tribe was organized. Our tribe, as a Yurok tribe, politically organized in 1993, but before then it was a coalition of people who came together to make sure that these rights were respected by the United States government. And that’s one thing that I will always do, I will never bend from, is that we have sovereignty and we have the rights to defend our people, and that’s one thing we have to continue to pass on.
By the 1960s, the so-called Bureau of Reclamation had devastated the once thriving riparian system. The formerly legendary salmon runs sank into precipitous decline. The Karuk, Yurok, Hoopa, Shasta and other Klamath River tribes had fought fiercely all the way along for legal tribal recognition. They demanded their rights to their traditional ways of living in a sacred relationship with the lands and waters that gave them life.
The dam removal movement grew directly out of the 1970s fish wars and the quest for tribal sovereignty and the health of the river.
Craig Tucker became part of the Undam the Klamath coalition in the late 1990s.
Craig Tucker (CT): I will just say it’s been a distinct honor and privilege to be a part of this fight to remove dams, and restore fisheries on the Klamath River. I left a career in academic science to pursue a career in environmental activism. Didn’t really know how to do that. So I spent a year with a program called Green Corps, but it was a training program, really, how to do the fundamental basics of how you do grassroots organizing, put together political campaigns.
And I went to work with a statewide river group called Friends of the River, and that’s when the fish kill happened back in 2002, when somewhere around 70,000 adult salmon died on the Yurok reservation before they could spawn. And it really kind of put the Klamath in an international spotlight.
And so I started going to meetings about Klamath, and it wasn’t long that I figured out or started to figure out this intersection between environmental issues and social justice issues, issues related to tribal sovereignty and issues of democracy.
And I’m very appreciative of folks like Isaac and Sammy, and a lot of other folks who put up with my whiteness, I guess. [LAUGHTER] And taught me how to behave in Indian Country, and allowed me to work on this project with them, and I’m forever grateful for it.
Craig Tucker speaking in a Bioneers 2023 panel
Host: Along with guidance from the Indigenous leaders Sammy Gensaw and Isaac Kinney, Craig Tucker had first been mentored by Ronnie Pierce. A structural engineer and marine biologist of Squamish ancestry, she was a near-mythic figure who worked tirelessly behind the scenes to catalyze the impossible dream of dam removal.
CT: She was a Native woman that worked for the tribes on the Klamath, and represented them in the dam relicensing. She was about five feet tall and probably smoked two packs a day. And we’d go to these rooms full of bureaucrats and environmental activists and government agency folks, and PacifiCorp, and she would just call bullshitin the middle of the meeting, and say, ‘You know, if you guys are going to do this, I’m going to smoke.’ And she would leave. [LAUGHTER] And I was like, I can’t believe she just did that! I can’t believe she gets away with that.
But then I’d follow her out and she started explaining to me what was going on. No one had ever attempted removing a large dam, much less four large dams at once. And so it was a really radical idea in 2001, 2002, 2003 to be talking about it, and she was fearless in talking about it. And so she was one of those people when I said, you know, we should, instead of this stuff with the government, this is ridiculous, we need to get after this company, she was like, Yes. And that’s when she started credentialing me, I think, in tribal communities. She’s the one who took me and introduced me to tribal leaders and tribal councils. And so, I think she made sure I had thick enough skin to do it. She worked on me pretty hard.
SG: As I grew older, and I started working with Undam the Klamath Coalition, actually Craig was the first guy with a full beard that I knew could stand up for the river like that. [LAUGHTER] First guy I ever heard a Southern accent. I thought he was messing with me at first. But there’s a group called the Undam the Klamath Coalition, and they had a meeting in my high school, and they didn’t think that everybody was going to show up because the email didn’t go out. And so they had all this Subway there, and then somebody had to eat it, so they called the kids in.
So I was sitting there, and all of a sudden this whole table started filling up full of activists, and I knew I heard their names before, and I’ve seen these people. And then they started talking, and I said, “Well, I can help organize it too if you guys need some help.” And then Craig looked over, and he’s like, “Wait, wait, who are you?” And I didn’t know what to say. I said, “Well, I’m Sammy Gensaw, future leader of the Yurok tribe.” [LAUGHTER] [APPLAUSE] He’s like, “Welcome aboard.”
From then, you know, I just started organizing and traveling around with these guys, and you know, I’d leave my house as a 15 year-old, I would leave my front door and I didn’t know when I would walk back through it. But I took those steps knowing that when, if I did this, then one day somebody wouldn’t have to make the same decision. And that’s what my grandma always told me – we do this, we make these sacrifices, you sit here and you listen to these stories, you continue these stories, because one day they’re going to need people like us. And she’d always tell me that. I’d say, “Grandma, I want to go play football. I want to go do sports.” “Nah, you’ve got to come here. You’ve got to go bail out the canoes. You’ve got to do all this because one day they’re going to need people like us.” And she wasn’t lying. That time is now. [APPLAUSE]
Host: The Klamath River originates around Crater Lake in Oregon in the Cascade Mountains. It’s known as the “upside-down river” because it’s a vast wetlands at the headwaters that only turns into rapids and waterfalls as it empties into the Pacific in California.
The River Basin is shaped like an hourglass, and the waist is where the dams were constructed between 1918 and 1962. Before the dams, salmon climbed 5,000 feet of elevation to spawn in the wetlands at the headwaters once known as the Everglades of the West. Its sixteen thousand square-mile area is in the middle of the Pacific Flyway, where 6 million migratory birds pass through annually.
Klamath River Basin. Photo: Shannon1/Wikimedia Commons
Apart from stopping the salmon’s spawning, the dams created horrific water quality problems. Upstream of the dams, the Bureau of Reclamation eliminated the immense wetlands that otherwise filtered the copious nitrogen and phosphorus of the high desert volcanic soil. The dams then trapped these nutrients and created massive blooms of highly toxic algae that are 10,000 times above any supposedly safe level.
Sammy Gensaw’s Yurok family lived through the radical degradation of the river system that climaxed with the game-changing fish kill in 2002.
Sammy Gensaw(SG): I know in the ‘70s, my father used to talk about it. He can look over the edge of his boat and he can see down to the bottom of the river, and he could actually see salmon, and they could fish. They didn’t have to worry about not being able to provide for their families when they went down to the river to harvest.
And I know my Grandma Elma[ph], she was the same way. When she would go down to the river, they didn’t have a lot of concerns like we did growing up. But there was always this teaching that they passed on that said the river wasn’t always like this. They understood what was happening very early on.
But what really affected me was in the 2002 fish kill. That was the first day I’d seen my grandmother just full out bawl her eyes out – my great-grandmother, Lena[ph] Nicholson[ph]. She spent her whole life in California fighting for the healthcare of Indigenous People, and she really put me on to standing up for my rights and our people. But when I seen her cry like that, and we all jumped in the rigs and we drove down to the river, and I heard everybody crying, and I seen and I just smelled genocide, it’s something that sticks with you throughout your life. And it was at that time that my grandmother and my parents told me that it’s not the end but it’s the beginning. We have to start doing something right now, and it starts with us.
And so these dams have been affecting our river for nearly 100 years, and to see the population of salmon in my lifetime be affected by these dams, it always felt like there was a monster at the headwaters growing up. It’s always described as like a story of like this force that can’t be reckoned with that’s demolishing everything in its path. And I grew up with that narrative.
Host: Sammy Gensaw knew that monster at the headwaters was a structurally engineered genocide in slow motion.
SG: As a fisherman, I’ve spent most of my life sitting inside of a boat right outside of my home village. I’ve spent most of my life living within my own home village drinking from the same creeks that my grandfathers and his grandfathers and their grandmothers have since the beginning of time. And I realize now that what a blessing that is today.
But on the same hand, we’re not fishing the same kind of river system. Today I can go out there and I can set my net all day. I can wake up early in the morning for the sunrise and I can fish my hardest, I can make sure my nets are cleanest, I can brutal the weather, go through perfect fishing conditions and come home with nothing. And that’s the reality we’re facing.
And today, there’s so many young people who have been taught to be providers. It’s in our DNA. We’re structured to take care of our people. We’re structured to be providers and protectors. And then when you go out all day and you don’t have anything to bring home to your family at the end of the day, no matter what you did, something within that tears you up on the inside. You know? And that’s what our youth are facing. That’s what our people are facing.
And then on top of that, you’re in these places where, right now, even in my homeland, there’s not one grocery store where we can go and if we didn’t catch anything, we can’t even go to the store and bring back some food. You can’t do it. All you’ve got to do is you’ve got to come home and just hope that they understand. And that doesn’t feed your family.
And that’s the difference. There’s people out there that like to eat salmon, and then there’s people out there that need to eat salmon, and that’s who I am.
Yoruk Salmon Festival. Photo: Matt Mais/Yurok Tribe
Host: Facing that existential crisis, Sammy Gensaw and the tribes of the Klamath river redoubled their efforts. They built what’s known in politics as a “nightmare coalition,” engaging conservation groups, commercial fisherman and other allies. The tribes would go on to make the impossible inevitable: Remove the dams and restore the river in what Sammy calls the Restorative Revolution.
More when we return…
I’m Neil Harvey. You’re listening to The Bioneers…
Host: In truth, although the federal government was the obvious adversary, it was private business that operated the Klamath River dams – and had long profited from them. Yet as time had worn on, even the economics of electricity no longer added up – compounded by a dying river, a salmon population nearing extinction, and climate breakdown that destabilizes everything.
Again, Craig Tucker…
CT: And so when we decided to go for dam removal, we decided we weren’t going to mess around with the federal government and federal agencies and the George Bush administration. We decided to make it a corporate responsibility campaign out of the gate. And I think that’s why Aawok Troy Fletcher and Leaf Hillman asked me to come help, because I thought I was brilliant to have that idea, only to find out they were like, finally, these white guys are figuring out how this stuff works. [LAUGHTER]
And so 30 of us in 2004 went to Scotland and crashed a shareholders meeting of Scottish Power. And we did that three times. And we thought we were going to win in Scotland, but then they sold PacifiCorp to Berkshire Energy, which is Warren Buffet’s company. And I was—I thought I was going to weep the day that happened. And I can remember Leaf Hillman saying, “Okay, well, where does he live?” [LAUGHTER]
And so the next year, we loaded up and went to Omaha, Nebraska, and crashed the Berkshire Hathaway shareholders’ meeting, which I call an “orgy of capitalism”. It was really remarkable, but it was years of very confrontational protests, activism, coupled with great legal teams from the tribes. And the environmental groups were really uncomfortable with that in the beginning, but then they kind of got into the swing of it and really stopped trying to position themselves as the leader of this effort and figured out that tribal nations were leading this effort.
So this is a long haul to get there, and I just want to say that four weeks ago, we did the precedent announcing the ground has broken, and the dams are coming out, and they’ll all be out of the river by the end of next year. [APPLAUSE]
Host: The actual dam removal is not some big dramatic explosion. Before the physical piece-by-piece deconstruction can take place, a carefully staged process gradually lowers the water levels. It assures enough water remains in the river to support the salmon and other life, especially during the spring spawning season.
A company called Restoration Environmental Solutions then comes in to create a massive re-vegetation process. The tribes are also bringing to bear their traditional ecological knowledge of salmon and the riparian ecology in this historic co-equal partnership with federal and state government agencies.
CT: So how do you do that? Well, they’ve been out there for three years collecting seeds onsite. So there’s about 100 native plants in the area; they’ve collected thousands of seeds. They took those seeds to a farm up in Washington and propagated them. Now they have 17 billion seeds. And so as soon as the reservoirs get drawn down, they’re going to go in there and start reseeding and replanting, because if you don’t, you’ll end up with star thistle and Himalayan blackberry. So the scale of the effort is pretty staggering, and I think we’re kind of in real time demonstrating how restoration actually works, and how we can put these watersheds back together.
And it’s not just about salmon. Yurok just reintroduced condor to Northern California. Right? Wolves just showed up in Siskiyou County. Right? So I think you can kind of doom scroll on your phone and get really depressed, but I’m like, stop and read about the Klamath, because I think we’re showing that you can put places back together. And a handful of super dedicated people can make it happen.
Host: Today Craig Tucker is a consultant for the Karuk Tribe and others working to restore rivers. He believes the fate of Pacific salmon will be decided in the next 20 to 25 years when all the big dams in the Pacific Northwest come up for relicensing for the next 30 to 50 years. That’s the decisive moment to change history. The tribes figured that out in the 1990s and got to work ahead of the curve.
Yet Sammy Gensaw also knows that dam removal is not a total solution. Given the acute degradation of the Klamath River system – given climate breakdown and its droughts, wildfires and warming waters that are deadly to salmon – and given the very long-term colonization and immiseration of tribal economies and cultures – radical adaptation is now imperative to meet this postmodern predicament.
In response, Sammy and his colleagues founded Ancestral Guard, a program under the auspices of the nonprofit Nature Rights Council. It’s an Indigenous organizing network that combines traditional ecological knowledge with contemporary science and values of world renewal.
Ancestral Guard conducts a suite of programs to help these Indigenous communities survive and thrive. Along with transmitting traditional practices, it teaches people how to garden. It operates a commercial kitchen and portable facility to process elk and other local meats and foods. It promotes cultural tourism to build awareness and allyship, and it conducts cultural exchanges globally with other Indigenous communities seeking greater self-reliance and food sovereignty.
SG: When I first started, we were just teaching kids how to fish, and I heard these kids talk about what they wanted to see in their community once when they were talking on the river, and I just sat back and I listened to these kids talk. And they said, man, I wish—if we could do this, if I had a truck or if I could do this, we’d take fish over here, we’d deliver these fish I want to give to my auntie. I wish we had a store we could go to and do this and get materials so we can have a cookout and we can raise funds.
And so we wrote that down, turned that into programming, and then turned that programming into a nonprofit today in which we work. But we did that with the basis and the belief of what we call a “restorative revolution”. We say the Industrial Revolution is over. It’s done happened. And the effects of that industrial revolution will continue to affect our people for generations.
So right now, people don’t have the option to not listen to Indigenous People more than ever, because if you want to live a healthy lifestyle, if you want your kids to eat, if you want to be in a good way, you have to start living a life that parallels Indigenous values. And if we don’t start doing this today, like Craig said, there may not be an opportunity for our kids in the future.
When I grew up, I grew up rough and tough on the river. I’ve been in more fist fights than I can count. I’ve lived a life on this river that I wouldn’t trade in for nothing, but it’s been rough. But on doing that, I’ve gained a perspective that allows me to survive in these places, because I will never leave my ancestral territory. I will never leave this place, no matter how sick this river gets and no matter how sick I get. Because where I’m from, the average lifespan for a Native American male in my condition, where I live, is about 65 years old. I’m almost halfway there. So having said that, I want to spend the rest of my life on this river. I want to spend the rest of my life teaching my family how to fish and hunt and gather, so hopefully some of these kids will come and bring me some deer meat in the future. You know? That’s my retirement plan. [LAUGHTER] That’s what I got going on. So I suggest you do the same. [APPLAUSE]
CT: I think this is why Indigenous People win. Right? And when I worked for environmental groups, I could organize a protest, could organize a rally, but it’s like, hey, we need to take on Warren Buffet, we need a crew who wants to throw down. And you’re not going to find that outside of Indian Country, or at least it’s very rare to find it.
And I think the commitment that Karuks and Yuroks and Hoopa has to the place —there’s not a problem confronting Warren Buffet on his home turf. There’s not a problem stopping traffic in the middle of Omaha. There’s not a problem taking toxic algae and dumping it on the floor in the lobby of PacifiCorp’s headquarters. It’s like you have to have people who are willing to throw down. And it’s hard to find that.
And I think that a lot of middle class white people are way too comfortable to throw down. And so when I talk to conservation groups, I’m like you better figure out how to be an ally to an Indian tribe, because you’ve got folks there who are going to do anything to protect these resources. Because you’ve got people who have the moral authority to speak to these resources. And you have unique laws that apply to tribes that let you achieve things that non-Indian organizations simply cannot achieve.
So I think if my kids – and our kids out here in the audience – if he’s going to have fish and clean water and breathable air, and my grandkids are going to have opportunities is going to be because we learned how to get behind tribes and let them lead on these issues. [APPLAUSE]
Host: Craig Tucker and Sammy Gensaw… “The Restorative Revolution: How Indigenous Leadership and Allyship Catalyzed the Biggest River Restoration in U.S. History”.
Carl Safina is one of the nation’s leading researchers on the natural world — as well as a passionate animal advocate — and a major figure in marine conservation. He is the inaugural holder of the endowed chair for nature and humanity at Stony Brook University on Long Island, N.Y., and the founding president of the not-for-profit Safina Center. He hosted the PBS series “Saving the Ocean,” writes widely for a variety of leading publications, and is the author of 10 books. Those include the classic “Song for the Blue Ocean,”the New York Times Bestseller “Beyond Words: What Animals Think and Feel,” and the 2020 New York Times Notable Book “Becoming Wild: How Animal Cultures Raise Families, Create Beauty, and Achieve Peace.” His latest book, “Alfie and Me: What Owls Know, What Humans Believe,” came out this month. His work, which fuses scientific understanding, emotional connection, and a moral call to action, has won various prizes, including MacArthur, Pew, Guggenheim, and National Science Foundation fellowships.
In the 1990s, Safina was a major figure in the campaign to overhaul fishing policies and restore ocean wildlife. He helped lead campaigns to ban high-seas driftnets, overhaul U.S. fisheries law, improve international management of fisheries targeting tuna and sharks, achieve passage of a United Nations global fisheries treaty, and reduce albatross and sea turtle drownings on commercial fishing lines. Along the way, he became a leading voice for conservation, widening his interests from what is at stake in the natural world to who is at stake among the non-human beings sharing this astonishing planet.
Below is an edited excerpt from an interview with Safinaconducted by Bioneers Senior Producer J.P. Harpignies during the Bioneers Conference in Berkeley, Calif., in April 2023.
J.P. Harpignies
J.P.: Your first book was “Song for the Blue Ocean” back in the ‘90s, and you were one of the most influential activists on fisheries and ocean issues during some intense campaigns, including working to ban high-seas driftnets. You subsequently wrote a lot about marine mammals, but much of your work in recent years seems to be more about your love for the web of life and for animals. It’s been one of the main themes of your work for a long time, but I get the impression you’ve been delving into it more and more. Is that accurate?
Carl Safina
CARL: Yeah, definitely. My first three books were about how people are changing the ocean and how those changes affect us and the creatures of the seas, but about 10 years ago I made a conscious inflection in my writing. Now it’s more about the human relationship with the rest of the world, and my last two books have gone even a bit beyond that. They’ve been about who we are here with on this planet. What are the mental, emotional and cultural capacities of all the other species that we are here with? It’s been a journey. I haven’t wanted to write the same book over and over again, so I’ve gone back to what was really my earliest interest, which is what other animals do and why do they do it.
My upcoming book, “Alfie and Me,” is also much more about the human relationship with the rest of life on Earth, why it’s the way it is for us now, and how it was in other cultures, in other times. And it’s really about what kind of relationship with the world we can have when we blur the usual boundary between us and other species. The narrative story is wrapped around a little baby screech owl that was near death that somebody found on their lawn and was brought to us, and whom we raised. She decided to stay around our property and to get a wild mate, and to raise young in a nest box that I put up on the outside wall of my studio.
When COVID erased my travel calendar completely, coincidentally, these owls were doing their thing in our backyard. With nowhere to go and nothing better to do, I watched them for about five or six hours a day, a few hours right around dawn and a few hours right around dusk. I saw nuances of their lives that are usually impossible to observe. I wouldn’t have had the time if it had been a normal year, so that was the silver lining in that year, when everything seemed to implode.
J.P.: Can you describe a little bit more about what it is that you observed that affected you and made you want to write a book about it?
CARL: Initially, I started taking notes not knowing at all where this might lead, whether she was going to survive. And if she survived, whether she would live to flying age. And if she flew, whether she would disappear or hang out around us. Best case scenario would have been she becomes healthy, gets a wild mate and they breed, and they raise young, who depart normally from the nest. It didn’t seem likely that would happen at the onset, but it did all happen, and I watched them all the way along. I used to be a professional field ornithologist. I studied birds for a living for about 10 years, and generally breeding seasons have several stages. There are courtship, incubation, chick-rearing, and fledging stages, but in this case, it wasn’t like that.
For one thing, this young owl had never had a mate before. She was raised by us, humans, so behavioral scientists would expect that because she imprinted on us, she wouldn’t develop normal owl behavior. But that wasn’t the case. She ultimately both reacted normally to a wild owl while still acting tame with us and orienting toward us the way she had been, but, after a while, orienting toward him in a normal way. Initially, because she was totally inexperienced, she didn’t respond in courtship. She was tentative with him at first, not really wanting to get too close. He started to offer her food, which is how owl courtship is supposed to go, but she didn’t take it right away. Eventually, she accepted the gifts, and they started to mate. She was awkward initially, but then she got it, and then they really behaved like newlyweds.
Then she laid an egg. And then she laid the other two eggs of her three-egg clutch, and the gears shifted again. It became much more of a settling down to business now — we’re going to have a family, the honeymoon is over. She was incubating while he was doing all the hunting. Then the chicks hatched, and she was doing the brooding. Then the chicks got bigger, and they fledged. The chicks at first went through a really dangerous transition where they wound up on the ground a lot because they didn’t really know how to maneuver. They’d fly to a tree and instead of aiming for a branch, they’d aim for the biggest thing they saw, which was a big clump of leaves. They’d try to land in the leaves and the leaves would give way, and they’d wind up on the ground. We have cats and hawks in the neighborhood that pose a danger. We watched the whole saga, and it was really magical and continues to be magical. She’s going to be five years old next month, and she’s still there. We still see her basically every day.
J.P.: She’s a multi-cultural owl.
CARL: Literally! And I say that in some of my talks about culture, because my last book was about culture. I show a picture of her, and I say she has a wing in our world and we have a foot in her world. She does things that have to do with being raised by us, like where she lives and how she responds to us. Her mate doesn’t do those things. It’s definitely a cultural thing. She’s a different kind of an owl.
For example, the young ones would normally leave the parents’ territory after a few weeks, but they hung around for a few weeks more while the parents continued to feed them. That was actually another totally fascinating thing. We think of young birds as always competing and the smallest one is going to be the runt that starves to death in the cutthroat competition, but it wasn’t like that at all. The parents were bringing so much food that the little ones were so stuffed that they would often move away from the parents while the parents were trying to offer food. And she just made sure that everybody was getting fed — and they all were always very well fed. They were never really hungry, those young ones.
J.P.: Interesting. And have you shared this with other ornithologists and compared notes and gotten surprised reactions?
CARL: A little bit. Not too much yet. The book will do all of that.
J.P.: Let’s delve into some larger issues about where you think humans fit in the web of life. Indigenous cultures tend not to view humans as radically different and “above” other species in the same way we have done in the Western tradition. Is that something you explore?
CARL: Yeah. That’s really what the book is about, other than the narrative story about the owls. It’s about the view we modern Westerners have of nature and where it comes from and how different cultures before us had quite different perspectives on the matter. I argue that there have been four main cultural approaches to viewing the human-nature relationship. One of them is that of Indigenous People who have a land-based identity and a deep sense of history with their land and their ancestors. Of course, there are many, many different Indigenous cultures with many different languages and customs, but nearly all of them, as far as I could tell, have very similar views that humans are part of a living world and not above any other part of that living world. Humans may have a bit of a special role to play in maintaining some of the balances, but everything is done with a sense of reverence and reciprocity toward the living and the material worlds.
If you want to use a plant or an animal, you have to express thanks and offer something in exchange. There are often ceremonies that have to precede cutting down a tree, for instance, and thanking the tree, or ceremonies that precede going hunting. And then, if you catch something, you have to thank that being and deal with the remains in ceremonial ways. You don’t just throw the bones away. There are proscribed things to do to show continued respect. Animals are viewed as having equivalent spirits to ours and often superior physical and spiritual powers. Certainly, many of them have better eyesight or hearing, or they’re stronger, or they can fly, or they can breathe under water. Things like that. We tend not to think of it as superior to us because we place human cognition on such a pedestal, but if a humanoid with a cape did something like that, we’d call that character a superhuman superhero. The kind of science that we practice in the West comes out of a tradition that overvalued human talents and thought that the Earth and other species were not worthy of any reverence.
J.P.: Hasn’t there been an evolution in scientific thinking about animals in recent decades? One hears much more about research on hitherto unrecognized animal cognitive abilities these days, and there’s more talk about “intelligence in nature” more broadly. Scientific gatekeepers kept having to move the goalposts. They used to say that animals don’t have language, but it turns out that some species clearly, irrefutably do. Then that they don’t have culture, but whales and chimps and many other species obviously, demonstrably do. They said only humans have tool-making, and that too was refuted. We obviously still have a long way to go, but where do you think we stand in this ideological battle? And do you view yourself on the frontlines of this emerging effort to finally break down science’s prejudices about our separation from the rest of nature?
CARL: Well, I view myself on the frontlines of trying to learn what I can learn. That’s about as much credit as I’ll give that. But it’s true that we know more than we ever knew before. Thankfully, we haven’t stopped learning new things. We know more than we ever knew before about the capacities of all the other minds that share the world with us, and a lot of that knowledge is extremely new. The first people who studied wild animals to learn how they live are almost all still alive and still working. Jane Goodall and Iain Douglas-Hamilton and people like that. It’s extremely new, and all the people we know and like are into changing their views based on absorbing new information. But it’s still a very small minority of the forces shaping the direction of the world. That’s why we’re in this “poly crisis,” as it’s now being called — the simultaneous climate, biodiversity, extinction, plastics and toxins crises, etc., all rapidly contributing to killing the world.
There are one-third fewer birds now than when I was in high school. And I live on the East Coast, where, in the fall, we’re right on the migration path. You can really see the difference. I can also really see the difference in some of the birds that were almost entirely wiped out by DDT and those other pesticides that have really come roaring back. It’s all very observable, but most species’ numbers are really way down. Yes, we’ve fixed a few things in the U.S. and a few other places in the world. The end of whaling has had a very noticeable effect on the number of whales that you see when you spend time on the oceans or on the coast, for example. But almost all animals are at their lowest population levels ever since the appearance of humans on this planet. And that’s entirely because 8 billion of us are occupying, destroying and polluting their habitats while temperature changes are decoupling animals from their food supply — insects from flowers, birds from insects, whales from food that they migrate to, etc.
There’s no way to sugarcoat it: It’s really a planetary catastrophe, but very few people really seem to understand just how catastrophic it is. Most people think that they’re doing OK or they want more than they have because they want to catch up with other people that they see. Or some people cannot wait for the world to end, because that’s what their religion tells them is where all of this should be headed.
J.P.: I get the impression that a lot of younger people do feel this sense of impending catastrophe.
CARL: Well, when I was in high school, a lot of these things were getting very obvious, and all the major environmental laws were basically passed in the ‘70s when I was in high school and in college. I thought at the time that our generation understood the situation and that we were going to fix things and set the world right again, but we absolutely failed.
J.P.: Well, some of us tried more than others. As a generation we failed, but I think that the committed activists in our generation can’t be blamed.
CARL: Well, look at the forces arrayed against us — all of the money in the world, just about literally, and the belief system that essentially backs the whole economy. The forces are overwhelming, and it shows.
J.P.: Yeah, we always knew that those forces were very powerful, but the degree of nihilism and cynicism of entrenched interests is just extraordinary. That said, they’re far from the lion’s share of human economic activity. There are quite a few impressive efforts at rewilding and regeneration of ecosystems in many different places.
CARL: Yeah. There are a lot of good examples, and some things are starting to turn around. And we also know how we could make a lot of things much better. The price of clean energy is starting to really make it economically the best choice, and the pace is accelerating.
J.P.: We’ve had a lot of coverage of that very issue at the conference these past few days.
CARL: Yeah, I have found this conference to be very refreshing, very uplifting, very inspiring. I certainly feel overstimulated. I want to go out and do lots of different kinds of things as soon as I get home.
J.P.: You’ve already done so much in your life, so I’ll be really curious to see what else you will accomplish, but I wanted to get to a deeper issue. Isn’t it, at its core, really a question of values, essentially, that you’re talking about?
CARL: It’s entirely a question of values. We need to draw from an ancient ethos. In prehistory, when humans achieved a certain level of consciousness, they looked around and saw the world as miraculous and humanity as sort of tenuous. And felt that if we didn’t respect the world that we belong to and that supports us that we might hurt it, so we needed to respect it. There are people regaining that sort of understanding, regaining it in a new way. Or maybe reinventing it based on current reality and a modern scientific understanding of things.
But, somehow, we have to go back to understanding that the world is a miracle and humans have a role in maintaining rather than hurting that miracle because if the miracle fails, we all go down with it. And it goes beyond that. We have to have simple justice for other living things. They don’t deserve to be annihilated. They don’t deserve to lose their footing in the world. They belong as much as we belong. Yes, if we destroy the world, we’ll all go extinct, but the wider world deserves not to be destroyed. We have no right to destroy this miracle that we don’t, so far, see any parallel to anywhere in the universe. Life is, at least, very, very rare, and it’s possible that this is the only place it’s happened.
J.P.: I think preserving the integrity and vitality of the biosphere is a sacred duty no matter what. But if this is the only place in the universe where sentient life emerged — which, despite all the speculation about other life far from our solar system, is all we know so far — that responsibility is crushing and enormous.
CARL: The basic religious feeling is the sense of being connected to something much bigger than you in space and in time. I am awestruck by the fact that I’m a very tiny, very brief little part of this thing that is so much bigger, that was here for so much longer and that will continue in some form. Maybe the best thing about people is that we have the capacity to understand something about where we actually come from and what we actually belong to.
This year, in honor of Indigenous People’s day, we are honored to share videos from the 2023 Bioneers Indigenous Forum.
Founded in 2008, the Native-led Indigenous Forum at Bioneers is designed as a sovereign space for Indigenous People to bring their vision and message to Native and non-Native allies and to connect. Each year the Indigenous Forum works to amplify Indigenous voices, build networks and movements and enhance cross-cultural dialogue, learning, cultural sensitivity and informed action. The event is a core part of the Bioneers Conference, bringing together Indigenous activists, scientists, elders, youth, culture-bearers and scholars to share their knowledge and frontline solutions in dialogue with a dynamic, multicultural audience.
In 2023, the forum brought together an incredible group of leaders addressing vital issues ranging from #Landback to Indigenous Science to Global Perspectives on the Rights of Nature Movement. It is an honor to be able to provide a platform for so many Indigenous leaders who are generously sharing their perspectives with the wider Bioneers audience.
Read on to explore the 2023 Indigenous Forum, learn about our recent historic Rights of Nature gathering and get the latest updates on Bioneers Learning.
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Landback: Restoring People, Place and Purpose
#LandBack has become a rallying cry in Indigenous circles and beyond from coast to coast, but what does #Landback really mean, and how can we be a part of this movement? In this conversation, leaders in the #Landback movement will share different approaches to the return and “rematriation” of ancestral territories. For tribal members, the discussion includes organizational, fundraising, and legal strategies. For non-Natives, panelists share how to be a good ally for #Landback. Moderated by Cara Romero with: PennElys Droz; Corrina Gould; Tom Little Bear Nason; Kawenniiosta Jock.
Indigenous peoples across the Pacific have a deep knowledge of the ocean and its ecosystems acquired from hundreds of generations of observation. Today, commercial farming, overfishing, resource extraction and global warming are destroying the ocean systems and exacerbating the climate crisis. In this panel, three leaders with intimate knowledge of the relationships between land and ocean discuss how to restore balance to the Pacific and to the planet. Moderated by Alexis Bunten with: Loa Niumeitolu; Kiana Frank; Andrea Kealoha.
Undam the Klamath! How Tribes Led the Largest River Restoration Project in US History
Yurok and Karuk peoples have been fighting for decades to remove dams on the Klamath River that destroyed riparian ecosystems and decimated salmon populations that underscore traditional lifeways. In 2022, the US government finally agreed to remove four dams and engage in the largest river restoration project in US history. Learn the story of this incredible achievement in tribal activism, groundbreaking tribal partnerships with state and federal governments, and culture-based methods for river restoration. Moderated by Cara Romero with: Samuel Gensaw, Isaac Kinney and Craig Tucker.
How might the fight for #Landback benefit from the inclusion of Black people and other historically marginalized groups? Does ‘call out culture’ actually harm decolonization movements?
We are living in a very exciting time as we witness more instances of successful Indigenous-led #Landback campaigns and triumphs over the extraction industry more than ever before, but we are also becoming increasingly aware that we cannot restore relations with the land without addressing our own trauma. In this video, panelists explore these issues and share practical strategies for addressing them using such tools as an intergenerational focus, ceremony, and time on the land. Moderated by Eriel Deranger with: Jodie Geddes and Carlee Loft.
International Perspectives on Rights of Nature in Tribal Law
It is not surprising that Indigenous Peoples are leading the way in the “Rights of Nature” movement given that the idea that trees, waters, and ecosystems have a right to flourish reflects Indigenous worldviews. In this panel, Indigenous leaders whose tribes have adopted Rights of Nature frameworks to protect sacred territories share practical strategies for organizing and implementing Rights of Nature campaigns within international legal frameworks. Moderated by Brittany Gondolfi with: Samantha Skenandore; Danielle Greendeer and Erin Matariki Carr.
Bioneers Indigeneity Hosts Historic Rights of Nature Gathering
We held our most ambitious Rights of Nature gathering to date on September 21-22, 2023, with the generous support of the San Manuel Band of Mission Indians and hosted at the Agua Caliente Resort and Spa in Rancho Mirage, California. The gathering was attended by over 230 participants, representing 79 Tribes, including 26 California Indian Tribes. Based on our collective value for honoring 7th-generation wisdom, participants ranged in age from elders to youth. Keynote speakers included Tribal leaders from coast to coast, sharing strategies for adopting Rights of Nature, as well as legal experts and youth.
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:
The Rights of Nature | Starting October 19 | A full background on the emerging “rights of nature” movement in the United States and internationally and how to develop, adopt, and enforce local rights of nature laws in your own communities.
Honoring Your Emotional Ecosystem | Starting November 14 | A grounded and surprising exploration of the healing genius in your emotional realm.
A Doorway into the Imaginal Expanse | December 6 | Create a home for your intuition, coax the artist within, and make soul commitments enriching our intraceptive landscape.
“To those who say how can a river have rights? I say how can it not?”
Samuel Gensaw, (Yurok) Director of the Ancestral Guard, artist, Yurok Language speaker, singer, writer, cultural/political/environmental activist, regalia maker, mediator, youth leader & fisherman
What Are the Rights of Nature in Indian Country?
Rights of Nature is a global movement spreading across Indian Country to protect our lands and natural resources for generations to come by recognizing nature’s legal rights. At its core, Rights of Nature law codifies Indigenous values for caring for Mother Earth. For the last 4 years, the Bioneers Indigeneity team has been exploring how Rights of Nature can be implemented by Tribes in the United States. We ran our strategy across a working group of Tribal leaders, attorneys, and organizers. We meticulously researched intersections of the law to anticipate ways to bring about Rights of Nature in Indian Country. We developed a guide for Tribal organizers to build capacity to present and pass a Rights of Nature law to protect lands, waters, and key species. And, we have begun to share information with Tribes interested in exploring Rights of Nature through regional workshops in the Southwest and Northeast.
Biggest Ever Intertribal Rights of Nature Gathering
We held our most ambitious Rights of Nature gathering to date on September 21-22, 2023, with the generous support of the San Manuel Band of Mission Indians and hosted at the Agua Caliente Resort and Spa in Rancho Mirage, California. The gathering was attended by over 230 participants, representing 79 Tribes, including 26 California Indian Tribes. Based on our collective value for honoring 7th-generation wisdom, participants ranged in age from elders to youth. Keynote speakers included Tribal leaders from coast to coast as well as legal experts and youth.
Interactive breakout workshops for community organizers, lawyers/Tribal leaders, and youth offered multiple strategies for bringing Rights of Nature to Tribes.
The Grassroots Community Organizing workshop approached this by recognizing that the greatest social change starts from the ground up. Participants were taken through a series of activities designed to support then in identifying the links between Tribal activism, Traditional Ecological Knowledge, and Rights of Nature. Facilitators then offered a series of adaptable practical steps for organizing a Rights of Nature campaign to suit their communities’ unique cultural, historical, and environmental contexts.
In the Legal/Tribal leader Workshop, participants learned about how Tribal sovereignty plays into a Rights of Nature law, how to take a Rights of Nature case through the court system and win, how to prepare for different legal outcomes of Rights of Nature law, and how to use government programs for Federally Recognized Tribes to protect nature while strengthening Tribal economies. Participants shared specific contexts where Rights of Nature might be implemented in their communities, and facilitators addressed how this can be done.
The Tribal Youth Workshop was inspired by the Mashpee Wampanoag youth who successfully petitioned their Tribal Council to adopt the Rights of Herring and Yurok youth working to protect the Klamath River through activism and ceremony. Through a series of hands-on activities, participants gained insights into how Tribal Councils operate, acquired skills to create impactful regulations, and came to understand the process of approval. By the end of the session, youth participants expanded their leadership skills and developed the confidence to cultivate community unity and growth.
After the breakout sessions, participants were treated to a gala dinner reception. The meal was organized by James Beard Award-winning Mashpee Wampanoag chef Sherry Pocknet, serving foods Indigenous to North America. Over dinner, participants discussed reflections and exciting ideas for the future of Rights of Nature in their communities. In true intercultural exchange, the evening ended with performances featuring Bird Singers, Hawaiian songs, and Mashpee Wampanoag intertribal song and dance.
Connecting With the Land
“We are not protecting nature. We are nature protecting itself”
Casey Camp, activist, environmentalist, author, and Hereditary Drumkeeper of the Women’s Scalp Dance Society of the Ponca Nation of Oklahoma.
It is impossible to understand the magnitude of Rights of Nature without being on the land. On the second day of the gathering, participants journeyed to Andreas Canyon. This oasis was once the winter home of Cahuilla Peoples, who cared for this place for thousands of years. It was easy to understand why this place is so sacred to the Cahuilla, with its perennial stream, palms, and rock formations. We saw firsthand how the people connected with the canyon, with its grinding rocks, shady outcrops, and vibrant ecosystem of birds and other animals. We were generously hosted by Bird Singers, who stayed with us all morning, calling forth birds and spirits with their songs. Those who had traveled from afar headed home with a profound experience to reflect upon, and the local California Indian hosts felt the joy of welcoming new friends with the right protocol.
Reflections and Next Steps for the Tribal Rights of Nature Movement
The Rights of Nature movement is on the precipice of growing exponentially across Indian Country. 100% of post-gathering survey respondents said that they would definitely attend another Rights of Nature in Indian Country event. 75% shared that they knew very little to nothing about Rights of Nature before attending. After the gathering, 85% felt that they now knew a lot about the Rights of Nature and how it can be applied to protect Tribal lands and waters. A few of the “aha” moments that participants shared included:
“So many communities are dealing with very similar issues, and we have so many things in common, we have to build communities and build relationships”
“Seeing the reverence that people held for their local land was really powerful as someone from an urban and industrial place.”
“When I realized that it doesn’t take a bunch of people to make a change, it can just be a little group that can make a difference”
Over 90% of participants stated that Rights of Nature could be helpful to protect their Tribal lands and waters, and they would like to share this movement with their Tribes. When asked what they hoped to protect, participants listed a range of things, from bodies of water to sacred sites, keystone species, plants, air, and more. They cited threats from mining to industrialization, always linking back to colonial capitalism’s insatiable need to consume resources resulting in the destruction of natural ecosystems. When asked if they would like Bioneers to host a similar gathering in their communities, more than half of the survey takers responded enthusiastically. They represent every single region in the United States, including Hawaii and Alaska.
Based on this incredible and inspirational feedback, the Bioneers Indigeneity Program, our friends, and allies across the U.S. have our work cut out for us. We will continue to support the Rights of Nature in Tribal governance initiative through regional workshops, but this is not going to be enough (and not fast enough) to meet the demand of this growing movement. Our plan is to develop a robust set of accessible and free training resources for Tribal Leaders, grassroots organizers, and allies to learn how to bring the Rights of Nature to Tribes through a self-guided online course offered through Bioneers Learning, a platform Bioneers developed to provide access to the most cutting-edge strategies to bring about positive social and environmental change. Stay tuned for more!
In the heart of Detroit, a buzzing Bioneers Pollinator Event, the Great Lakes Bioneers Detroit (GLBD) hosted by the University of Detroit Mercy, is preparing to host an inspiring event that promises to ignite passion and drive change. The GLBD conference, now in its 18th year, provides a platform for transformation — a space where communities come together to explore innovative solutions to the pressing environmental and social challenges of our time.
Titled “Revolution from the Heart of Nature: Take Action in Detroit,” the conference is set to be a melting pot of ideas, knowledge, and experiences. People of all ages are invited to participate, connecting, learning, and acting for the betterment of our One Earth Community. The event is not just about discussing problems; it’s about crafting solutions and fostering life-giving relationships.
Youth Empowerment Takes Center Stage
This year, the GLBD conference is expanding its youth programming, recognizing the importance of empowering the next generation. According to Gail Presbey, the Conference committee chair, “This year, it is our 18th annual conference. We have always had a substantial program for youth, but usually just on one day. This year we shifted our conference to two weekdays, Thursday and Friday, so we could have a youth program on each day. Many Detroit-area Middle Schools and High Schools come. Last year we had 230 youth, this year, we hope to have 300.”
Knowledge Sharing and Community Engagement
For adults, the conference offers a full day of enlightening sessions, keynote speeches, and opportunities for networking. In the words of Chelsea Manning, a planning committee member, “It is a wonderful opportunity for our community to learn about the amazing work being done throughout the city and engage in important discussions around sustainability. There will be 5 tours each day, keynote speakers, as well as a variety of youth and adult learnshops offering something for everyone!”
Incorporating the rich cultural heritage of Detroit, the conference opens with traditional songs by local artists like Chantal Gros-Louis and Joe Reilly, honoring the land’s indigenous roots. Keynotes by indigenous leaders Jade Begay and Yuria Celidwen underscore the conference’s commitment to recognizing and respecting Native communities.
A Call for Justice and Sustainability
The GLBD conference is not just about discussion; it’s about action. The event emphasizes the importance of acknowledging historical injustices, particularly concerning Native communities. By opening conversations about the Treaty of Detroit in 1807, GLBD is ensuring that the conference is rooted in justice for Indigenous Peoples. According to Gail Presbey, “We want to ensure that our conference acknowledges that the land that the University is on has been the land of the Three Fires Confederacy, the Ojibwa, Odawa, Potawatomi, and Wyandot nations. We acknowledge that this land was colonized via the Treaty of Detroit in 1807. We are committed to justice for Native communities.”
As the GLBD conference approaches, participants can look forward to engaging discussions, empowering learnshops, and the opportunity to be a part of a community committed to healing the Earth. In the spirit of Bioneers, this event is not just a conference; it’s a call to action, a revolution from the heart of nature, and a transformative journey toward a more sustainable and just world.
Indigenous peoples across the Pacific have a deep knowledge of the ocean and its ecosystems acquired from hundreds of generations of observation. Today, commercial farming, overfishing, resource extraction and global warming are destroying the ocean systems and exacerbating the climate crisis. In this conversation, three leaders with intimate knowledge of the relationships between land and ocean will discuss how to restore balance to the Pacific and to the planet. Moderated by Alexis Bunten, Bioneers Indigeneity Program Co-Director. With: Loa Niumeitolu, Co-Facilitator, Spirit Root Medicine People; Kiana Frank, Assistant Professor in the Pacific Biosciences Research Center, University of Hawai’i, Mānoa; Andrea Kealoha, Oceanographer, University of Hawai’i, Mānoa.
This talk was delivered at the 2023 Bioneers Conference.
Alexis Bunten, Ph.D., (Aleut/Yup’ik), Co-Director of Bioneers’ Indigeneity Program, has been a researcher, media-maker, manager, consultant, and curriculum developer for organizations including the Sealaska Heritage Institute, Alaska Native Heritage Center, and the FrameWorks Institute. She has published widely about Indigenous and environmental issues, and is the author of So, how long have you been Native?: Life as an Alaska Native Tour Guide.
Loa Niumeitolu, a Tongan poet, community organizer and educator with degrees in English and International Development, is a farming teacher and lead farmer at Tennyson High School Farm in Hayward, California. She trained in planting taro and other foods of Moana Nui under Tura Koronui in Atiu, Cook Islands; and worked as a land steward at both Sogorea Te Land Trust and at Gill Tract Farm on Ohlone Territory (the East Bay). Loa also co-founded the LGBTQ+ Indigenous support groups One Love Oceania (OLO) and the Oyate Tupu’anga Project, and currently co-facilitates Spirit Root Medicine People (SRMP).
Kiana Frank, Assistant Professor in the Pacific Biosciences Research Center at the University of Hawaii, Mānoa, weaves contemporary Western techniques with traditional Native Hawaiian science to study how microorganisms shape the land for productivity and health. Her work evaluates overall ecosystem health and informs current monitoring, restoration, cultivation, and management practices in Hawaii. She works to inspire the younger Hawaiian generations to cultivate a connection to science through their culture.
Andrea Kealoha, Ph.D., from Pāʻia, Maui, is an oceanographer at the University of Hawaii Mānoa who specializes in climate change and human impacts to coral reef health. She is the Director of UH Maui College’s water quality lab and will be starting a faculty position at UH Mānoa in Fall 2023. In addition to conducting coral reef research to support marine resource management, Andrea also works with students and the community on water quality monitoring and education to increase diversity in STEM.
We are living in a very exciting time as we witness more instances of successful Indigenous-led #landback campaigns and triumphs over the extraction industry than ever before, but we are also becoming increasingly aware that we cannot restore relations with the land without addressing our own trauma. This session will explore such critical questions as: How might the fight for #landback benefit from the inclusion of Black people and other historically marginalized groups? Does ‘call out culture’ actually harm decolonization movements? In addition to frankly exploring these issues, the panelists will share practical strategies for addressing them using such tools as an intergenerational focus, ceremony, and time on the land. Moderated by Eriel Deranger. With: Jodie Geddes and Carlee Loft.
This talk was delivered at the 2023 Bioneers Conference.
Eriel Tchekwie Deranger (Athabasca Chipewyan First Nation), a leading global figure in Indigenous Rights and Climate Justice activism, is the co-founder and Executive Director of Indigenous Climate Action and is a member of the International Indigenous Peoples Forum on Climate Change. She also sits on a number of boards of notable non-profit organizations (including Bioneers) and activist groups. She has organized divest movements, lobbied government officials, led mass mobilizations against the fossil fuel industry, written extensively for a range of publications and been featured in documentary films (including Elemental).
Jodie Geddes, a Jamaican native who grew up in Brooklyn, NY, is an international speaker on Restorative Justice and racial healing and justice. Currently the Safe Outside the System Program Director at RJOY (Restorative Justice for Oakland Youth) working to provide support for community members experiencing mental wellness and other crises; she is also the Co-Manager for CTTT (Coming to The Table), which provides training and resources for communities and individuals seeking to explore the history and legacy of enslavement. Jodie is also co-author of The Little Book of Racial Healing: Coming to the Table for Truth-Telling, Liberation, and Transformation; and co-hosts the Ma.ternity Leave podcast.
Carlee Kawinehta Loft (Shé:kon sewakwé:on), of Kahnawake/Mohawk ancestry, is the Youth Engagement Coordinator at Kahnawake Collective Impact; the Training Manager for the Muskrat Collective; and co-founder of Iakwatonhontsanónsta’ts—the Kahnawake Youth Environment Collective.
Yurok and Karuk peoples have been fighting for decades to remove dams on the Klamath River that destroyed riparian ecosystems and decimated salmon populations that underscore traditional lifeways. In 2022, the US government finally agreed to remove four dams and engage in the largest river restoration project in US history. Join us to learn the story of this incredible achievement in tribal activism, groundbreaking tribal partnerships with state and federal governments, and culture-based methods for river restoration. Moderated by Cara Romero. With: Samuel Gensaw, Isaac Kinney and Craig Tucker.
This talk was delivered at the 2023 Bioneers Conference.
Cara Romero (Chemehuevi), Program Director of the Bioneers Indigeneity Program, previously served her Mojave-based tribe in several capacities, including as: first Executive Director at the Chemehuevi Cultural Center, a member of the tribal council, and Chair of the Chemehuevi Education Board and Chemeuevi Headstart Policy Council. Cara is also a highly accomplished photographer/artist.
Sammy Gensaw, III, (Yurok) is the Founding Director of the Ancestral Guard, Artist, Yurok Language Speaker, Singer, Writer, Cultural/Political/Environmental Activist, Regalia Maker, Mediator, Youth Leader & Fisherman. Photo Credit: Jake Reed of the Ancestral Guard
Isaac Kinney (Yurok/Chicano) is a Yurok tribal citizen from the village of Weych-pues at the confluence of the Klamath and Trinity Rivers in what is now known as Northwest California. His extensive experience working with Indigenous communities and tribal governments have helped him become effective in his advocacy efforts in working with national and local governments, philanthropists and grass-roots organizations.
S. Craig Tucker, who has 20+ years of advocacy and activism experience, especially working with tribal members, fishermen and farmers in the Klamath Basin on dam removal, traditional fire management, gold mining, and water policy, is the founder and Principal of Suits and Signs Consulting, which provides professional advocacy and campaign planning services to tribes, local governments and non-profits working to protect watersheds and advance social justice.
#LandBack has become a rallying cry in Indigenous circles and beyond from coast to coast, but what does #Landback really mean, and how can we be a part of this movement? In this panel, leaders in the #Landback movement will share different approaches to the return and “rematriation” of ancestral territories. For tribal members, the discussion will include organizational, fundraising, and legal strategies. For non-Natives, panelists will share how to be a good ally for #Landback. Moderated by Cara Romero. With: PennElys Droz; Corrina Gould; Tom Little Bear Nason; Kawenniiosta Jock.
This talk was delivered at the 2023 Bioneers Conference.
Cara Romero (Chemehuevi), Program Director of the Bioneers Indigeneity Program, previously served her Mojave-based tribe in several capacities, including as: first Executive Director at the Chemehuevi Cultural Center, a member of the tribal council, and Chair of the Chemehuevi Education Board and Chemeuevi Headstart Policy Council. Cara is also a highly accomplished photographer/artist.
PennElys Droz, Ph.D., of Anishinaabe and European descent, a mother of five, is a Program Officer with NDN Collective (“an Indigenous-led organization dedicated to building Indigenous power through organizing, activism, philanthropy, grantmaking, capacity-building and narrative change”), and a founding board member of Sustainable Nations, an Indigenous regenerative community development organization. She has worked in Indigenous engineering and regenerative development for over twenty years, with the vision of the re-development of ecologically, culturally and economically thriving, sustainable Indigenous Nations.
Corrina Gould (Lisjan Ohlone), born and raised in the village of Huichin (aka Oakland, CA), is the chair and spokesperson for the Confederated Villages of Lisjan and co-founder and Lead Organizer for Indian People Organizing for Change, a small Native-run organization that sponsored annual Shellmound Peace Walks from 2005 to 2009. As a tribal leader, she has continued to fight for the protection of the Shellmounds, uphold her nation’s right to sovereignty, and stand in solidarity with Indigenous relatives to protect sacred waters, mountains, and lands all over the world. Her life’s work has led to the creation of Sogorea Te’ Land Trust, a women-led organization in the Bay Area that seeks to heal and transform legacies of colonization and genocide.
Tom Little Bear Nason, born on his aboriginal homelands in Big Sur, CA, has been the Tribal Chairman of the Esselen Tribe since 1993, helping preserve 1,200 acres of Esselen sacred land, one the first “Land-Back” achievements for a non-federally recognized tribe in California. He has been involved in the preservation of traditional landscapes for 30+years and worked with agencies to remove one the largest dams in California history, effectively preserving salmon and steelhead populations. He continues to work with tribes, state agencies, land trusts and conservation groups to expand tribal land stewardship, and is also a Culture Bearer, Fire Ecologist, and Bear Dance Leader.
Kawenniiosta Jock (Kanien’kehá:ka, Wolf Clan from Akwesasne, Mohawk Nation Territory), President of the Waterfall Unity Alliance, board member of Onkwe Inc., and an alumna of the Akwesasne Freedom School, is an activist, land protector, master seamstress, traditional full-spectrum doula, mushroom hunter and artist. She works on preserving and restoring her people’s language, cultural teachings and ancient knowledge.
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