This is Leslie VonHolten in Kansas with another HPPR Radio Readers BookByte.
Robin Wall Kimmerer’s writing is a gift. Throughout her book, Braiding Sweetgrass, her prose gracefully, and comfortably, connects the many strands of her perspective: from her work as a biologist to her worldview formed by her Indigenous heritage, her overall love and affection for the natural world resonates throughout her book. Her writerly voice is so grounded and comforting that what could be daunting topics for a reader—even a non-scientist reader like me -- instead, feels like a guided journey with the most inspiring and patient of teachers.
For my own writing, I return again and again to Kimmerer’s essay that is not in Braiding Sweetgrass, but is found online at LitHub.com, and I think surmises her philosophy so eloquently. Titled “How the Myth of Human Exceptionalism Cut Us Off from Nature,” the essay is a moving call to action for us humans to change our relationship with the natural world. Like she does in Braiding Sweetgrass, Kimmerer relies on the Indigenous knowledge and storytelling of her Native “Haudenosaunee neighbors” who do not see humans as the top masters of a natural world, but rather as the, quote, “younger brothers of creation.” In other words, a worldview that positions humans as fellow creatures on the Earth, coinhabitants—and the masters of nothing.
Kimmerer calls out our hierarchical culture as what is damaging the planet and driving climate change. And she notes that it is also driving our epidemic of loneliness, an epidemic that she calls “species loneliness.” This is a symptom of human exceptionalism that is driven by our inability to see ourselves connected to the natural world, unable to find comfort in an animal’s presence or a connection to a tree or plant. Kimmerer writes, quote, “When we deny kinship with other species, we become blind to the world as a gift.”
I know this sounds a little hippy-dippy. I’m a Gen-Xer from Kansas. But really when I think about it: she’s right. Most of us, sadly, know people who have no sense of wonder about the world. Who don’t marvel at the quarreling birds at the backyard feeder, or fall head over heels in love with an oak tree. They tend to be bound up in human worries, to an alienating degree.
Kimmerer’s position is this: when we change our beliefs to align more closely with the Anishinaabe people and their, quote, “’all my relations’ worldview,” we shift our cultural thinking from the belief in rights and ownership of land, to responsibility to land. I find this approach so comfortable because it echoes what I hear from many High Plains farmers and ranchers I know: the belief in stewardship. We are not owners of this land, of this animal and creature kingdom. We are temporary stewards, and therefore have responsibilities to not conquer it, but to care for it for the future generations of all creatures who will live upon it after we are gone.
I am not Indigenous, and I do not believe it is my place to undertake Indigenous beliefs and practices. It would feel inauthentic to me. But I do believe in learning from other cultures, and other writers, and Robin Wall Kimmerer’s writing has taught me so much.
This is Leslie VonHolten inviting you to read Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. There is much to learn here. Learn more about the Radio Readers book club at HPPR.org.
