Indigenous Knowledge and Being a Steward of the Environment - Using Ojibwe Knowledge to Understand Our Ecosystems.

Image source: David Scott and Finn Rachul: Presentation - Indigenous Knowledge and Being a Steward of the Environment

Ojibwe Knowledge and the Environment

Finn Rachul - March 7, 2025.

I have been a part of the Swan Lake First Nation community for going on five years now. Time and time again I am shocked by the stories of the traditional people that live here -some of them going back thousands of years through generational knowledge transfer. These stories are just some of many that paint the picture of what life on the great prairies was once like. It is impossible to explain Ojibwe culture as I have been taught in one sitting; instead, learning a culture as deep and different to Western culture as this is best taught through stories, experiences, time, and the language itself. I am going to share part of one such story that David and I frequently tell in our work.

It is impossible to begin understanding Ojibwe culture without referring to its old stories. I am frequently left in awe of the abundance our area used to experience - so much has changed even in the lifespans of people alive today, speaking to the rapid changes our world is undergoing now. Stories like the overwhelming abundance of frogs during the long gone quiet and gentle rains of spring and summer, once croaking loudly in areas that are now quiet today. My adopted aunt on the reserve talks about this, how as a kid she would go outside during these rains struggling to avoid stepping on these frogs as they enjoy the weather.

I've heard other stories of the skies being darkened by the flocks of snow geese and many other bird species, and how they have now been replaced by comparatively small numbers of the Canada goose. Hunters have told me how they once considered Canada geese a trophy due to their rarity, and how now their meat tastes different due to their diets being constrained to fields tilled into powder. The snow geese are still around, but they've moved their migration patterns elsewhere due to what we're doing on the landscape now.

One story that particularly shocked me was how my aunt told me that, back in the day, when wagons were used (which wasn't that long ago in the grand scheme of things) the wheels would be stained red from the berries they would run over. I can't remember the last time I saw enough strawberries to color even one step red, but I know it wasn't in the prairie in my lifetime.

Now, we are in dire straights. Throughout my work with David, I am bombarded daily with what feel like insurmountable issues. The last eight or so years have been a drought compared to the water levels recorded in traditional history. Swan Lake, as considered by the SLFN community, is a dead lake and has not been used for a long time. The Pembina river struggles to maintain a flow during the driest months, with towns like La Riviere shipping in water from time to time. The Pembina's tributaries that once ran all year long are now dry every summer, and what little water does make it is heavily polluted with nutrients from fertilizers and chemicals from pesticides and herbicides. On top of that silting from soil that is ground into powder yearly chokes the waterways that still survive. Invasive plants such as quack grass or leafy spurge have taken over broad swaths of land that once were home to sweetgrass and other medicines. And as if this wasn't bad enough, climate change and the constant removal of trees on our landscape has so rapidly changed the weather patterns that even David's traditional knowledge is struggling to keep up with reading the signs of our local environment.

Whether it's climate change, land practices, or both, I can't help but feel a sense of longing for those times I was born too late to experience. However, if these things existed once, they can exist again. There are still many people across Canada who have learned how to heal the land through Western or Indigenous knowledge, and their numbers are growing. I've seen time and time again places that speak to the abundance of these stories, whether that's in small hidden places away from agriculture, places managed through traditional practices, or through people practicing permaculture or other forms of beneficial agriculture. Nature has an incredible power to recover rapidly when the conditions are right. I'd like to highlight one of the other articles on the blog here, David's video on Swan Lake's environmental concerns. The valley featured in the video has been managed through David's relationship with an animal that many consider a swear word - the beaver. I have never seen such abundance of clean water, edible and medicinal plants, and animals that are rarely seen this far south.

Beautiful environments like this are possible through traditional Ojibwe knowledge and its unique philosophy. This was highlighted for me through one lesson in particular, when I asked David for the translation for the Ojibwe word for saplings. While it is difficult to translate it in clunky English, I will use this whole article to paint the picture. This word speaks about saplings being the "children of trees", describing more of a familial, thinking relationship between trees. Modern science has finally caught up with Indigenous Peoples' knowledge of the interdependence and communication of trees and plants. Knowledge like this comes easy and makes sense in the Ojibwe perspective, despite all the proof and studies Western science demands to even acknowledge what Indigenous peoples have known all along. I have seen this in action first hand when David and I successfully transplanted an oak tree out of season - something that has been declared "impossible" by many.

Ojibwe knowledge as I understand it is based on some fundamental beliefs, such as the strong philosophy of caring for the environment so that it sustains not only us, but future generations. Ojibwe tradition comes from a time of thin margins of survival on the forests and prairies of its territory. There are many stories of when times were hard, but through an intensely close relationship with nature and a culture that helped people thrive and become strong in a harsh climate, the Ojibwe people flourished. The environment not only sustained them, but taught them about themselves. There is so much to learn about ecology and psychology of the human experience in the world we live in provided you just listen and observe the plants and animals around us. This knowledge comes from a time when life was slower, nature was closer, and a belief that we are not separate from the living world. While a lot has changed, this knowledge is still very much alive and it always will be, but only if you ask.

Reading the Environment

Learning about the environment, in my experience, can be a both a difficult learning curve, and an intensely rewarding experience. Firstly, it requires a whole and nuanced perspective on what you are seeing in the field. In our work, we look at all aspects of the natural processes happening around us. That means looking at the air - its temperature, moisture content, movement, smell, the plants that are responding to it, etc. - it is an intensely indicative factor. Analyze the soil: its texture, smell, moisture, flora and fauna, and whatever else you can find. Notice the water and its movement, how plants respond to it, what kind of plants are responding to it; notice its temperature, color, smell; notice what animals live in and around it and how do they use it. Look at the plant and animal species, from birds of prey to tiny spiders, from moss and lichens to nettles and willows. Every species has a unique role and set of relationships that are constantly changing in response to the environment around them. These are some of the indicators and signs that are changing that David and I are having a hard time translating.

This perspective also requires looking at ecosystems as a whole, questioning why they are the way they are with constant curiosity, and learning their cycles and roles in the landscape as a whole. Once you learn these cycles, the ecological world and humanity's role in it opens up, as we along with every other plant and animal play a part in managing their processes so that they can flourish. Every last factor is an indicator of something. Use all your senses, except for taste, unless you understand edible plants deeply (as Dave reminds me frequently). There are plants that are poison at most times of the year, medicine at others, and edible during only certain environmental conditions. My advice is to avoid using wild plants for medicine or food, especially considering the many industrial and agricultural chemicals showing up in the bush these days.

Ojibwe Land Use Philosophy

There are still hunters and land users who understand the environment through this lens. Hunting, fishing, and using the land is all about understanding our role as managers of the flourishing of the environment. As said before, we are not separate from nature. Traditionally, that looked like managing populations of animals, such as deer, bear, fish, and much more, in a way that helps the environment thrive and balances the natural fluctuations of their populations and the associated effects. Fire is an incredibly valuable natural process in this in eliminating deadfall or invasive species, promoting growth of essential plants, or controlling populations of animals like ants. Controlled burns were a powerful tool of the Ojibwe people until the Canadian government essentially controlled it through the Noxious Weeds Control Program and the Indian Act. Along with that, using knowledge similar to modern day permaculture enabled the Ojibwe to create healthy useful plant communities historically dubbed "The Indian's Gardens".

In our work in previous years, we joined up with Mark Lowdon from AAE to manage invasive carp populations in Pelican Lake. Using electric charges and nets, we captured thousands of these carp to interfere in and manage the lake. Likewise, we are waiting for the perfect conditions to do controlled burns of our own to control the thatching of dead grasses and ant population booms, though the changing weather has made this difficult.

Everything, from natural processes like fire, to teaming up with beavers and muskrats and other animals, to moving plants, to holding back water and contouring gardening are all tools in the kit of traditional peoples. These are just some of the tools I've been taught, but there are so, so much more. Traditional peoples worldwide use management techniques like this, from the peoples of the deserts of Africa bringing back halfmoon trenches to solve food insecurity, to water management in dry Australia, to the remaining Chinampas gardens in Mexico city, to the controlled burns of the many peoples of North America, to the soil management of the jungles of South America - there is so much to gain if we listen to this form of knowledge rather than rejecting it in favor of decades long studies and published academic papers.

My Experience

I'm going to tell the story of one of the natural processes happening in our own backyard that I've learned from Dave and using the traditional Ojibwe knowledge I've been taught. Some of this is only just being understood by Western science.

Birds, Ants, Fungi, Trees, and Fire.

Birds and ants have an interesting relationship. One of the first experiences I had in the field with Dave was tasting ant spit. Sounds gross, but it's actually quite tasty and has lots of health benefits. This involved stripping the bark off of a long thin hazelnut or chokecherry branch, licking it, and aggravating a black ant pile enough that they attack it. As the protector ants attack it, they leave formic acid, an antibiotic or immune system booster frequently used in Ojibwe culture. After about 10 minutes of getting the ant to attack your stick, you lick the stick (make sure to shake off the ants, I learned that the hard way). The acid itself has a lemony flavor, which I have grown to appreciate quite a bit. This acid has been used to prepare for the flu season, heal wounds, and much more.

People aren't the only animal that uses this, however. Birds frequently will use ants like this to clean them of pests, fanning their wings out and landing on an ant pile. Animals are incredibly intelligent, and you can sometimes see their thinking process happen in front of you. See the image below.

Image source: Do Birds Use Ants as Tools? | BirdNote

Ants, however, can be a massive problem, as we saw in the spring and summer of 2024. Due to the moist, cool conditions of the spring, fungi flourished unlike anything I've seen before. Trees, both alive and dead, had all sorts of fungi growing on their branches, leaves, and trunks, weakening their immune systems and starting a process that will eventually kill many of them. Ants are a key part to this picture, as they keep fungi spores in their nests over the winter and plant them on trees and plants, using them as food or to make deadfall that they will eventually use. In a healthy, balanced ecosystem, this is part of the natural decomposition process. However, Dave and I have noted how quiet the landscape has become due to a declining songbird population. These songbirds are a key part in the management of ant populations, and their numbers seem to be rapidly decreasing. With that, we could hardly be in the field without stepping on ant highways or find trees without some form of ant-induced fungi.

Indeed, this is a disaster waiting to happen. Without controls on populations of animals eating saplings that normally would replace older trees, increasing amount of deadfall, and booming ant populations, many of the prairie forests that are left are beginning to die. This is one of the many alarm bells going off for us these days, as there is a big Ojibwe word that describes this. If a word like this exists, it's happened before, potentially thousands of years go. As I understand the word, it describes a time of slowly declining food chains and booms of animals populations on lower trophic levels, such as ants, grasshoppers, and more - animals that feed on decomposition. It also talks about droughts, dust, fires, and more. I'm just beginning to understand this, but it paints a picture of the connectedness of nature as well as what happens when it begins to die. This is a process that the now gone old people of the reserve once talked about happening in the future, as they knew the signs and saw them beginning to appear in their time.

As scary as this is, I do have hope for this situation. As mentioned before, nature has a powerful capability to restore itself to health when the conditions are right. While this situation does signal that human impacts are seriously affecting our ecosystems, it also means that we are very capable of correcting it - just as the Ojibwe people have before. Abundance of water and wild spaces is one such thing we have to restore. In Ojibwe culture, water is "sacred", for lack of a better English word. In other terms, it is key to solving this issue. Pothole lakes, wetlands, beaver dams, rivers, and forests on the landscape have long been recognized as necessary by both Western environmental groups and Indigenous peoples. As soon as we begin restoring these water-holding ecosystems to the dry prairie, we will see rapid changes for the better, from small things like returning birds and insects to big things like steady rains and more consistent weather. Along with that, if we begin to use controlled burns as many groups have begun to do again, the amount of decaying plant matter and booming ant populations can be controlled. The evidence is there, but we have to begin to see ourselves as managers of the land we live on and rely on. We are not separate from nature, we are part of it.

As Dave and I frequently repeat, always remember the word "Obehmaatizee". Look at people as human beings first, not of different colors, races, cultures, political groups, or anything else - we all live on and rely on this living landscape we call home. It is sick, and we have to heal it - not just for our sake, but for the sake of our children and the children to come.

Closing

I'm going to end this article here. I'd like to reference coming articles on other stories about the environment I've learned from Dave and the traditional knowledge he's taught me, particularly "On Squirrels and Oak Trees - Maintaining Water Cycles" and "What We Do in the Field" for more information. This is a long form discussion on part of one of our presentations "Indigenous Knowledge and Being a Steward of the Environment". If you are interested in having David and I come do this or another presentation/discussion at your event or school, please get in touch with me or David at finn.rachul@gmail.com or scotta.research@gmail.com respectively.

Thanks for reading!