The Resilience Hub

Permaculture, Food and New Economy

  • Welcome!
  • Events & Workshops
  • Permaculture Design Courses
  • Permablitz Network
  • Get Involved
    • Support Our Programs
    • Volunteer Opportunities
    • Contact Us
  • About
    • Our Work
    • Our Values
    • People
    • Press
  • Donate

Plants, Loss, & Colonization

April 3, 2019 by Myke Johnson Leave a Comment

Sea Kale emerging (1).jpg
Sea kale emerging in my garden, April 3rd.

This morning, I have been reading Farming While Black, by Leah Penniman. It is a marvelous book on so many levels–history lesson, gardening guide, liberation manual–and it feels a privilege to learn so much from a work that is actually focused toward Black farmers and gardeners. I knew so little about the skills of enslaved Africans who brought with them to these lands African plants and knowledge of growing them.  I knew so little about the work of George Washington Carver who was one of the first to study and promote regenerative land practices.  I know so little about multiple plants and their habits and their gifts for us.  Get this book!

But then, after reveling in reading all morning, I find myself opening to multiple layers of deep grief underneath the joy of reading the book.  Grief for the African peoples who were stolen from their land and enslaved.  Grief for these Turtle Island lands, whose balanced ecosystems and soils were so depleted by the cutting of forests, and the plowing under of the soil, as well as by the war waged on their people.  And grief for myself and my communities–that we have lost our connection to the ecosystems, we have lost our connection to the wisdoms, we have lost our connection to the plants.

I get overwhelmed with the abundant knowledge in the book, and I remember this feeling in other wonderful books I have read, the feeling that I have no hope of learning everything I need to learn, in the limited years left to me on this planet.  I get the feeling that I have no hope of regaining access to the collective wisdom that has been cut off in so many ways.  And I realize that this too is part of colonization.

My East Frisian ancestors were some of those who plowed over the fertile prairies back in the 19th century.  Grief.  But at least they knew how to grow their own food, and provide for their families from their land.  I read online recently that in the last two generations, most Americans have lost the capacity to do that.  More grief.  I don’t know how to do that.  And I can’t envision getting to that ability before I die.  Plus, it is not really something we can learn from books.

In Farming While Black, I was reading about herbs and their healing properties, and there were too many to take in–even though it was a limited list of the herbs they grow and find to use in their community.  I feel lucky if I can learn about two or three herbs in a season.  All of us should have been learning the herbs since the early days of childhood wandering in the woods.  The plants are our elders, our guides, the wise beings who know how to feed us and heal us and care for us.  This separation from the plants is also a part of colonization.

One answer to my dilemma is about community.  No one is meant to have all the knowledge on their own.  It is okay that I can’t learn it all on my own.  But I feel grief too for the fragmentation of communities that has kept us from sharing this learning and wisdom with each other.  And I feel grateful for each person who has shared their knowledge of plants with me.  I feel grateful for organizations like the Resilience Hub, who bring people together to share so much wisdom of soil and plants and ecosystems.

But for this moment, I want to honor the pain of colonization, honor the pain of what has been lost, honor the pain of so many threads of connection that were torn apart and destroyed, never to be rewoven.  It is a long journey to healing.

[This reflection was first posted in the blog, Finding Our Way Home.]

Filed Under: Local Food, Lost Arts, Permaculture, Plant Identification, Re-Localization Tagged With: colonization, community, Farming While Black, George Washington Carver, Grief, Herbs, Interconnection, Land, Loss, Plants, racism, Regenerative Agriculture, Soulfire Farm

Permablitz & Community

March 8, 2019 by Myke Johnson Leave a Comment

As we plan for a new Permablitz season, I offer you some reflections about the Permablitz held at Margy’s and my house two years ago. (A version of this post first appeared in my blog, Finding Our Way Home.)

Over 20 people came to our yard and worked together on projects organized by the Resilience Hub. They installed rain barrels, built a composting system from pallets, built a fire circle, and created five more growing beds for future fruit trees, raspberry bushes, & hazelnut bushes, and one bed for flowers & herbs.  We also got the first shovelfulls dug for a pond.

Opening Circle-Sylvia, Cathleen, Ali
[Opening Circle]

At the end of the day, I felt teary-eyed with the sense of Gift.  The generosity of so many individuals coming together and creating something so beautiful and full, helping us to realize our dreams for this piece of land, was deeply moving.  There is something about this giving and receiving of human attention and wisdom and care, that feeds our hearts. Much of our lives are shaped by transactions—we pay a certain amount of money, and receive a product. Or, we put in so many hours and receive a paycheck.  But giving and receiving freely and generously touches something much deeper. Giving and receiving must trigger deep neurotransmitters in our internal chemistry, sparking a profound sense of well-being and belonging.

I also realized how many layers of community are involved in such a project.  One layer is this community of people who care about the earth, and who come together to give and receive, to learn, to share, to grow, to get to know each other.  People connections are made.

Another layer is the community of the soil itself.  During the blitz I was mostly working with several others on the project for creating new growing beds.  We were adding nutrients through sheet mulching so that the soil could create a thriving fertile community.  I have learned so much about the variations in soil communities from the book The Holistic Orchard by Michael Phillips.

What a food forest needs, what fruit trees need, is soil whose fungal community is stronger than its bacterial community.  In contrast, annual vegetables and flowers and grasses prefer soil with a stronger bacterial community.  A bacterial community is enhanced by tilling the soil and incorporating organic matter by turning it into the soil.  A fungal community is enhanced by no tilling, but rather adding organic matter on the top of the soil to decompose, as it happens in the forest. (Similarly, compost that is left unturned will generate a stronger fungal community.)

Forking the beds Cathleen
[Cathleen forking the soil]

We prepared the soil by aerating it with garden forks–since it had been rather compacted.  We added some granite dust for mineral enhancement, then put down a layer of cardboard to kill grasses and weeds.

Raspberry Bed-manure & chaff Mihku & Heather
[Mihku & Heather adding manure and chaff]

Then, we added chicken manure, coffee chaff, seaweed, leaves, grass clippings, composted manure, and a really thick layer of deciduous wood chips.  We were able to get a delivery of 8 yards of wonderful ramial deciduous wood chips–these are chips which include lots of thin branches, which have more lignin content that is not yet woody.  The wood chips are the most important part of enhancing the fungal community.

After-Fruit Tree & Flower/Herb Beds

We also made several pathways with cardboard and wood chips, and I worked to complete those bit by bit in the days after the blitz.  Wonderfully, the process then works on its own–we add some water or it gets rained on–and the microbes will work together over the next several months and years to create a thriving soil community.  We planted trees and bushes the following spring.  My friend Roger Paul said that the Wabanaki word for “soil” means giver of life.

I encourage you to consider participating in a Permablitz to experience this sense of community for yourself!

Filed Under: food forest, Permablitz, Soils, Uncategorized, Urban Permaculture Tagged With: community, food forest, fruit trees, gift economy, orchard, permablitz, resilience, soil

Recent Blog Posts

Transitions at the Hub

At the end of October, Kate Wallace will be stepping down from her role as Programs Director. … [Read More...]

Garden Mentorship Program is back!

The growing season is upon us and the Hub’s Garden Mentorship Program is back for 2021!  The … [Read More...]

Gearing Up For Permablitzes and Work Parties

The Resilience Hub is committed to building a more localized food system and mutual aid networks in … [Read More...]

Hugelkultur Planting

Okay, I said I wouldn't write again about the hugelkultur until I had plants to show, but I can't … [Read More...]

Sign Up for the Newsletter!

Like us on Facebook

Like us on Facebook

Copyright © 2022 · Resilience Hub Custom Outreach Pro on Genesis Framework · WordPress · Log in

 

Loading Comments...
 

You must be logged in to post a comment.