Transcript for:
Addressing Food Insecurity Through Indigenous Practices

We are experiencing food insecurity globally, nationally, locally right now. Food is such an integral part of one's culture. No matter what background you come from, what culture you're from around the world, food is such a pillar to that activity.

And when we encounter a new climate, especially during climate chaos, where we're shifting, we're moving seasons, the weather patterns are changing, we should reach back to our indigenous, traditional ecological knowledge and approach our farming practices from that lens. There are so many factors that contribute to our food insecurity in our country. Logistically, we have consolidated our seed companies, food distribution companies, and grocery stores. It's just a handful of companies that are producing and distributing foods to Americans. Additionally, land continues to go up in price.

Forty percent of farmers don't own the property they farm nationwide. That's mega farms to little farms. 40% of our food system, the American food system, is on rented land. And that's a really dangerous and scary place to be. Also, we are fighting climate chaos.

High spikes, cold and hot, wet and dry, are coming our way constantly. All of that makes a huge impact on food distribution and access in our community. Is there a plane to go by?

I know, we're right under the flight path to Portland International. We're here at Husquiet, which translates to Goodrain Farm, a direct-to-consumer, community-supported agriculture vegetable farm. We share this property with 11 other... their operating farms. I rent an acre and a half of intense vegetable rotation and farming for our nearly 150 CSA membership.

We service the Portland metro area which which when I say that Portland, Oregon is a huge native population, those are native community members from all across Turtle Island. And, you know, we have our urban native population because of relocation and the disbandment of many tribes who then had to fight again for recognition. I myself, as an Arrow Lakes person, my tribe in particular was considered extinct until 2020. One, 2020, and when we grow crops that aren't necessarily mine, right? I'm not Seminole, I'm not Muskoke, I'm not Hopi, I'm not Cherokee, but when I grow those crops from those communities and... When I'm serving an urban native population, ultimately those crops make it back to some of those people from those tribes.

So Tascouille at Goodrain Farm kind of tries to focus on bringing foods back to those dinner plates and sharing those foods with those tribal members so they can reconnect. This one. Oh, do you know the weather this week?

I think it's supposed to be pretty sunny. Darn it. Let's see. Yeah. It's pretty wet.

Alright, done. Well, farm walk? Okay.

Alright, field walk chores. Yeah. And then other stuff.

Other stuff. At this point in this season we are doing a lot of field walks to take in how our soil moisture content is and if it's ready to be tilled and worked. So I try not to like walk in it.

I walk on the edges so I don't compact the soil too much. I don't wanna till the soil when it's too wet. So I do this test.

And it's just called like a handball test or a soil test. I kinda lightly squeeze it and then I'm gonna bounce it. Uh oh. Oh, that's wet. And it, yeah, that's super wet.

It rained last night, so. This on Saturday would actually crumble about three or four bounces in. Right now it stays firm.

So this is high moisture. It's way too wet to be tilling or doing anything major to right now. So yeah making do with the weather. But it is so wet over here we're not gonna get in are we?

Yeah not for a while. Such a bummer. All right.

Climate change is hitting us hard. We are experiencing both extremely wet and cold winters and springs here in the northwest that make it hard to get into the ground and grow things until it's almost too late for our season. And then we're having hotter, short, dry summers.

But. As we experience new different climates, we're able to pull techniques from community and test them out and see if they grow well here. And there's a lot we can learn from indigenous communities that have thrived in hotter, drier climates for centuries, millennia.

Alright, so let's take a look at some of our Hopi blue corn underneath here. So the Hopi blue corn is a really great corn to grow here in the northwest. It does really well dry farmed here and dry farming which is from our community's southwest is the act of farming without mechanical irrigation methods. So no overhead, no drip irrigation, no plumbing really which is both handy because I'm not the best plumber and our clay soils tend to retain moisture for a really long time.

So we'll plant crops like tomatoes or corn or beans through a wetter spring. We won't irrigate them. And then they're going to grow deep roots deep down into the ground and become really efficient scavengers of water and nutrients.

Because they're like used to scavenging and... Different soil types, this variety, it's much hardier and drought resistant than some of our genetically modified cords. Those corns need a lot more babying, a lot more pesticides, a lot more fertilizers, because they're just not, they're not scavenging for that in the soil as well. They're not very good taking up water.

You need a lot more water to make things sweet than to grow a dry item out. So a lot of our heritage crops that we grow... We're trading off a plant that has high yield and maybe tastes better to us to be more climate resilient and bioregionally adapted.

So one of the ways that we build a more resilient food system is by protecting and saving bioregionally adaptive plants. And that could be any plant from across the world that has slowly been introduced to a new climate and Over time, the strong ones that have the genetic material to survive, say, the Pacific Northwest, a wetter, shorter season, those seeds then go on to be saved and grown again and again and they strengthen those muscles to this climate and stretch the roots out into this clay, wet soil better. So on our farm we save seed in-house.

So inside the curing shed here, I just turned off the fans. We always have fans going. It's a pretty dark cave-like space. It is fully insulated. We only have windows on the north side, not the south.

The sun's coming up and shining in. We're blocking that out. So we store some of our seed.

We do a lot of on-site farm seed saving as well, and that is to grow regionally adapted and microclimately adapted seed for our farm. especially indigenous seeds which are considered rare heirloom. From Hopi blue corn and Cherokee gourd seed corn and seminal pumpkin and chamoya peppers and Seneca sunflowers, the list goes on and on. These foods were almost completely wiped out during colonization and settlement.

We've really hindered the growth of a lot of our foods all around the world. And we're losing them. We're losing these ecosystems. We're losing these foods. And that's why it's so important that we do seed saving, both for just our own food resiliency, modern day, but also for our histories and the reclaiming of indigenous identities.

Yeah, so now you just plant them and they'll grow. Yeah, really pretty. Growing up here with my family, we always played in the dirt.

And one year I had asked for raised garden beds. So before we knew about anything radical, we just tore up the front lawn and put in these raised beds and grew this food. And it wasn't until later when I was entering the agriculture industry and learning about these small-scale farming systems that I realized that I already knew this stuff. It was already in my bones, in my DNA, in my blood, this intuition that plants were people and that we should treat them with that reverence.

So it was just natural for me. This bed doesn't look like much. But if you start training your eyes, you'll see them. This is Camus Lily. And Camas lily is a Pacific Northwest native root croc.

It takes about three to seven years to truly establish. This is a very long, slow-growing plant, but a really important first food for the Northwest region. It loves our soil types and it pretty much only grows in these cleared savanna spaces alongside Oregon white oaks. and marshy wetlands. It used to be prolific, but they're extremely rare now.

And not by choice, this land was stolen and developed and abused, and we lost this plant. We lost these foods and these ecosystems. Growing up, I wasn't particularly encouraged to talk about or share my indigenous identity with anybody.

I had lots of questions, but They were usually brushed off and I think that that was a lot of generational trauma and hurt and concern for my safety and well-being. My grandmother had gone to boarding school, had lost contact with her tribal, specific tribal connection from the reservation. There's this famous quote.

From a colonel for why the boarding schools existed and it was kill the Indian save the man and our generation is the saved man but killed Indian to have grown up in a space like that. It was a protective space but it was lonely too and just it felt like I was disconnected from something. To be reintroducing native plants and native crops and native foods to stolen land is a very steep emotional toll for me and a laborious toll.

But I decided to do it for at least one bed, and they can bloom every spring and showcase my hopes and dreams and goals for Hoskweet for a good rain farm. This is our first harvest for the season. We saved it especially for you.

You know this purple, pink, red coloring in it? That's all those antioxidants. So the more colorful it is, the more antioxidants there are.

The red color is like the sunscreen too. Oh yeah? Just tell me how that always seems to go hand in hand. Yeah, and I love that.

And then the dandelions, right, are growing in here, which you can actually eat. And that is like a big part of my indigenous ancestry and utilizing what we had, what we had access to. So when we lost access to a lot of our native native foods or pre-contact colonial foods, we were then eating a lot of these weeds. They're all part of an important ecosystem.

So, yeah, being those pioneer, those first plants to pop up in freshly tilled barren land and to populate it and hold that soil steady and they proliferate with all their progeny and their... their roots and like hold that soil down in place so they're actually so so important and then we like totally degrade them and that's such a bummer it's so unfortunate so we're gonna harvest all of these nice little yellow delightful heads that we have everywhere. Why not eat them?

All right. Bring it to the truck? Yeah.

That's pretty good. Nice. I estimated 40 to 50. We got 40? We got 40. So we're gonna go take this down and wash and pack it.

To the truck. For me the farm ebbs and flows and how big of an impact it feels it makes versus how small and singular I feel. I don't know I struggle with that and like the reality is is I got stuff to do. I got a farm to grow. I got people to feed yesterday.

Like I live here in capitalism. I got to pay rent. I got to pay my bills.

Like, but you can do all of that with respect for your fellow human, with respect for the plants and the respect. for all these other living creatures on this planet, and it can just be part of your everyday. Food is for all people.

It's a human right. And for me, food sovereignty really means that a community gets to make their own choices. So being able to continue to be like, Hey, hi, I'm Sinai.

I'm Arrow Lakes. I exist. I am here still today. I'm growing this food for these other community members who are still here today. Despite all of this persecution, we are still going to continue to bring our wisdom and our knowledge with us to tackle these problems of climate chaos and make a thriving, more equitable future.