[English]
Long ago, if you knew how to listen, you could
hear the trees speaking.
The Potawatomi tell stories about this, with
trees gathering together, making plans.
Stories where the trees decide how to grow,
how many seeds to produce, how to survive.
And in recent years, non-Native botanists have
picked up on the same thing –
trees really are communicating.
They share resources and information through
chemicals in the air and networks underground.
So how did Native peoples thousands of years
ago figure out something that Western
scientists are only just discovering?
Hi! I'm Che Jim, and this is Crash Course Native
American History.
[THEME MUSIC]
Science is a useful tool for understanding the
world.
It’s helped us figure out really complex ideas
like particle physics and evolution
and microwave popcorn.
And Native people have made plenty of
scientific discoveries,
yet we’re often perceived as “anti-science.”
So, what gives?
Turns out, what we typically consider science
today isn’t the only way to arrive at accurate information.
There are a variety of ways of knowing,
or means through which people discover
knowledge.
And many Native American ways of knowing
are rooted in observing the Earth and living in
close relationship to it since time immemorial.
To paraphrase Potawatomi writer and botanist
Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer,
we tend to think of science as being neutral and
objective,
where the conclusions drawn aren’t influenced
by the people doing the concluding.
But years ago, Western scientists assumed
plants didn’t communicate because they don’t
do so in ways that look like animal
communication.
And later, when scientists revisited that
question with the understanding that
communication could look really different from
what they’d expect,
bingo: they started to find compelling evidence.
Which just goes to show that all knowledge is
influenced by the perspectives we humans
bring to it.
And Native American cultures, even with all of
our diversity, tend to have some commonalities
in our ways of knowing and viewing the world,
like how we tend to ground relationships in
respect and reciprocity.
There’s much more about Indigenous
worldviews, by the way, in episode 6.
Indigenous ways of knowing often begin,
much like the scientific method, with
observation.
But in Native American cultures,
this observation can go beyond the five senses
and involve things like storytelling and oral history.
Take these rare boulder structures built by
Native people in the Plains region of the U.S.
and Canada, known today as medicine wheels.
Most follow similar structural patterns,
like a series of concentric circles or spokes
radiating from a mound of stones in the center.
Many date back centuries—or even millennia.
But there’s little archaeological evidence as to
the purpose of medicine wheels.
Were they built to use as astronomical tools?
Locations for rituals?
For those answers, many Western practices of
archaeology have proven insufficient.
We need Indigenous knowledge.
So, archaeologists in Alberta, Canada worked
with Elders of the Blackfoot Confederacy to
learn about these formations.
John Wolf Child of the Kainai Nation offered
stories about his late great uncle, the warrior
and Tribal Chief Makoyepuk,
who was honored with a medicine wheel
memorial.
Wolf Child could paint a picture of Makoyepuk,
including his famous topknot decorated with
feathers from his travels.
He sounds like a baller.
Sadly, the Makoyepuk Medicine Wheel itself has
been lost to cultivation,
with only a ravine and depressions in the
ground to show where it once was.
But Wolf Child’s stories can inform how we
interpret other medicine wheels.
Which adds an important context to our
understanding of human history.
Now, Native Americans did, and continue to do,
a lot more with their ways of knowing than
observe and remember.
They also invent and create.
In fact, Native Americans spearheaded a bunch
of technological innovations millennia ago that
are still used today.
Like, the first kayaks were invented by the Inuit,
built from sealskin around 4,000 years ago.
Lacrosse was invented by the Haudenosaunee
before European settlers arrived.
And the Chumash people ventured out to sea
far before the ancient cultures of Egypt,
Asia, or
Europe did.
I’m talking 11,000 years ago.
The Chumash sailed back and forth from the
Channel Islands to the mainland of what’s now
Southern California,
fishing with complex hooks and nets, as well as
hunting for seals and waterfowl.
Over time, they used their knowledge of the
ocean and the Pacific coastline to build some of
the most technologically advanced ships in
North America, like the tomol.
These canoes could be up to thirty feet long
and consisted of planks tied together.
They were made watertight with pine tar which
was boiled and hardened.
The preferred material was redwoods that had
drifted down the coast from the north because
the Chumash knew —
you know, they had their ways of knowing —
that this wood rotted much more slowly than
other types.
All of this reflects how Native ways of knowing
have been making things happen for thousands
and thousands of years.
And in many cases, these innovations are still a
part of both Native and non-Native life today.
Like the Chumash people still build tomols that
can be seen gliding along the ocean near the
Channel Islands.
While Western scientists have long
misunderstood
– and at times downright disregarded –
Native ways of knowing, that’s slowly starting
to change.
Today, there’s a new movement aimed at
“braiding” the two worldviews together.
The Mi’kmaw people have a word for this
braiding:
Etuaptmumk, it means “two-eyed seeing,” a
concept developed by Mi’kmaq Elder Albert Marshall.
The idea is that one eye should look through
the lens of Native knowledge,
and the other through the
lens of Western science –
but both should work together
to form the full picture.
For example, in 2023, Nicole Mann embodied
Etuaptmumk when she made history as the first
Indigenous woman in space.
She’s a NASA astronaut and a member of the
Wailaki of the Round Valley Indian Tribes.
And she spent 157 days in a floating laboratory
on the International Space Station.
While she was onboard, Mann performed
spacewalks, spoke to students back on Earth,
and studied plant growth.
She later told reporters that there’s a
“psychological aspect” to growing plants in
space that helps you feel connected to your
home planet,
one that could benefit humans on
long space voyages in the future.
And a sentiment that reflects the deep
connection to place found in Native
ways of knowing.
While in orbit, she also had the opportunity to
speak to students at the Flathead Indian Reservation –
something she saw as a “really important
responsibility.”
Her hope was that it might inspire Native
children to pursue their own careers in science.
The next gen of Native space explorers is gonna be epic.
Back on Earth, two-eyed seeing is being used to
tackle some of the world’s most pressing issues.
Like, today, around two million of Earth’s
species face extinction thanks to human activity.
But this decline is happening at a significantly
slower rate on Indigenous lands, where globally,
there’s less deforestation
and lower pollution levels.
Yeah, we’re cool like that.
Thanks to their deeply rooted connection to
their lands,
Native people have developed some of the
most effective means of environmental care.
In fact, today, many conservationists see
Indigenous land management as one of the
best ways to protect against biodiversity loss.
For example, in what’s now Montana, the
Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes,
or the CSKT,
have long practiced controlled burns to
encourage new plant growth and reduce the
risk of forest fires.
Today, they manage over 400,000 acres of
conservation land, including the CSKT Bison Range,
a former national wildlife refuge established on
land originally taken from the tribes
in the early 20th century.
After negotiating for many years have the land
returned to the tribes,
it was successfully restored to their care in
2020.
Now under the management of the CSKT
Natural Resource Department, tribal biologists
use controlled burns to remove fire hazards,
protect native plants, and open up more grazing
for the bison who live on the range.
In addition, the Bison Range museum is now
used to educate visitors about the tribes'
history and their traditional practices.
Initiatives like this have
been so successful, that
simply giving more land back to Native peoples
has been suggested as a major strategy for
combating climate change.
We’ll talk much more about Native ecology in a
future episode.
Indigenous people have been learning about
and connecting to the world since longer than
anyone can remember—
listening to the trees, protecting buffalo herds,
and much more.
And way before “scientist” was even a word.
Native folks weren’t just learning, they were
actively inventing – and still are!
But they’re also finding ways to bring Western
science into the fold, too.
And, in the spirit of two-eyed seeing, native
scientists like Nicole Mann are passing on both
to future generations.
As we say here at Crash Course, “knowledge
weighs nothing, carry all that you can.”
In our next episode, we’re going to talk about
traditional Native foods.
I’ll see you then.
Thanks for watching this episode of Crash
Course Native American history,
which was filmed at our studio in Indianapolis,
Indiana
and was made with the help of all these nice people.
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