Foreword
I want to preface this article with the idea that colonialism is the defining cause of environmental degradation. For colonial systems to break down I believe it is necessary for us as white people, who created the United States and the systems it operates by, to learn how our generational patterns have created the catastrophic consequence that is climate change. This article is about creating a new perspective for looking at white American culture and how to create better communities, climate awareness, and connection with others.
The Individual
To begin, I’d like to talk about a feeling. For most of my life I’ve felt untethered. This was a result, I’ve concluded, of one major defining factor: my white parents have no culture. While this may sound like a joke you’ve heard before, it is at the core of my upbringing. What I mean by “no culture” is we had limited connections to extended family, no cultural traditions or practices, and no predominant religion or beliefs(besides that of America). We seldom talked about where our ancestors came from besides my maternal grandma’s experiences as an Ashkenazi Jew.
I learned earlier this year that I’m some sort of Swedish, German, Nordic, Ashkenazi, British(maybe???) amalgamation and a kaleidoscope of Ellis Island immigration stories. My grandpa is so American he has absolutely no idea where his family even first immigrated from! But I also wasn’t raised to idolize America, and feel disconnected from typical christian hamburger freedom culture. In addition, the land we live on is not one native to Europeans, but I’ve never been to any of the places I’m ethnically derived from. I don’t speak the language of the majority of my ancestors. I have zero ties to ancient knowledge that is passed from generation to generation, no traditions or practices, no familial history or connections.
So what does that mean when you’re tied to no land, no culture, no people, no traditions, no belief systems, no class structure? Who are you?
The Collective
I know I am not alone in this thinking. Do most white Americans know where they first came from? Do they also feel untethered, disconnected? Do Americans of other races also feel this same ambiguity and restlessness to know more about who we are and the people that birthed us? We know that a dominant issue in the United States is loneliness. Lack of culture, lack of roots, and therefore, a lack of a greater sense of connection to the people and the land outside of you I believe breeds this overwhelming alone-ness.
In the book (aka my bible) Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer, she writes, “After all these generations since Columbus, some of the wisest of Native elders still puzzle over the people who came to our shores. They look at the toll on the land and say, “The problem with these new people is that they don’t have both feet on the shore. One is still on the boat. The don’t seem to know whether they’re staying or not.” This same observation is heard from some contemporary scholars who see in the social pathologies and relentlessly materialist culture the fruit of homelessness, a rootless past.” (page 207)
This passage reminds me of the way it was drilled upon us in my high school to go to college out of state. Or the way white hippies idolize van culture and traveling to “find yourself.” It can be found in the way people try to prove who they are by using careers, a brand, money, power, an education, what’s on “pen and paper,” to create some sort of identity and sense of self, or a belonging and a worthiness. It has created a national culture of “pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”
When you don’t feel a part of the land you’re living on, because you didn’t come from it and have never taken the time to know it, it’s easy to pollute, maim, extract an obscene amount of resources, pave it over with concrete, and alter ecosystems at your will. If she isn’t your Motherland, how can we see that she’s still our Mother?
Resolution
Professor Kyle White writes in his article “Indigeneity,” “It is important to recognize that indigeneity is seldom used to express ‘coming before’ in a basic sense; rather, it is more often used to express intergenerational systems of responsibilities that connect humans, nonhuman animals and plants, sacred entities, and systems.”
I feel that the place to start creating connection to the Earth begins here, with healing the generational trauma of not belonging to a specific place, in not knowing who we are. It begins in having the courage to grow roots. It starts with becoming interconnected with the land around us rather than in apart from it. Robin Wall Kimmerer calls this “becoming native to place.” Richard Powers’ The Overstory, the character Maidenhair declares “We have to learn to love this place. We need to become natives.”
For me this looks like making recipes, creating my own traditions, and meeting / working with people in my community. Where I’ve always felt ungrounded in my identity I am learning to feel connected to the Rocky Mountains, native plants, the seasons, local music and books, social justice in my community, spirituality, and food, for after all isn’t that the basis of culture?
When struggling to find ancestors to connect to I’ve also discovered that ancestor doesn’t have to mean relative. In finding other beings to respect and learn from, such as the indigenous stewards of this land or the teachings of animals, rivers, trees, I’ve felt supported from a greater source.
If I’ve learned anything, the only place you need to go in order to feel connected to the world is right outside your window. And feeling a part of something inspires care for others, care for yourself, care for the environment and all its critters, and care for your community.
Picture above from one of the adventures around my home.