4 minute read
Getting TEK-Savvy
Getting TEK-Savvy
Modern Problems Require Traditional Solutions
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written by Max Gruber
On March 26th of this year, Japan witnessed its earliest cherry blossom season in almost 1,200 years, according to data collected by Osaka University. To put that in perspective, the last time cherry blossoms bloomed this early was around the time that gunpowder was invented. Unfortunately, this preliminary pink phenomenon is most likely yet another sign of shifting climates across the globe. The NASA Global Climate Change record outlines that the average temperature on the Earth’s surface has risen approximately 2.12 degrees Fahrenheit since the late 19th century; this is largely due to industrial carbon emissions, with much of the warming occurring over the past 40 years. Other symptoms of Earth’s fever include ocean acidification, rising sea levels, and record numbers of extreme weather events. Some of the impacts of climate change can be seen and felt presently, such as economic loss from strains on outdated infrastructure, increased risks and costs of agricultural production due to lack of quality and quantity of water, as well as increased health risks from wildfires or ground-level ozone pollution. However, marginalized populations who lack the economic resources to effectively react and adapt are the ones hardest hit by climate change, and many are already feeling the effects. For Indigenous communities reliant on natural resources for their economic, cultural, and physical well-being, climate change poses a distinctive threat.
Along Louisina’s Gulf Coast resides the Houma tribe, a historic Indigenous people with about 17,000 enrolled tribal citizens. A case study examining the effects of climate change on the United Houma Nation tribe conducted by Shanondora Billiot, Assistant Professor of social welfare at Arizona State University, found that the Houma are especially vulnerable to environmental changes, such as rising seas levels and erosion, because they inhabit a region that is mostly covered by water and marshland. About 25 Houma families live in Isle de Jean Charles, a strip of land in the bayou of immense cultural significance that has shrunk considerably from erosion and saltwater incursion. The once 22,000 acre island now spans a fraction of that size at just 320 acres. Without considering the ancestral importance that still ties some of the Houma to the isle nor how the sinking of the isle is the direct result of inadequate climate change policy, state officials proposed a $48 million resettlement project that would relocate the island inhabitants to a new community 40 miles north, a plan that was not coordinated with Houma tribal leaders and echoes of historical resettlement programs where Indigenous communities were forced into undesirable lands. Additionally, the federal government refuses to recognize the United Houma Nation as a sovereign tribal nation and as such disallows them from the legal authority to create their own environmental protection policies—yet there is a perpetual lack of Indigenous representation in state and federal politics. Billiot asserts that this legislation only reacts to the problem rather than addressing underlying root issues like climate change. Due to tribe members’ experience with institutionalized racism and ostracization, some Houma forgo participation in climate change-adaptation activities and lack spaces to speak out against this discrimination.
Despite such tribulation, many Indigenous communities are fighting for political and climate policy change while simultaneously adapting traditional lifestyles to truncate environmental damage. Traditional Ecological Knowledge, or TEK, refers to the practice of using Indigenous knowledge and technology to create locally based, community-driven, non-industrialized methods as protection from climate change. In California, the Karuk tribe uses traditional burning practices to limit forest fuel buildup and prevent severe wildfires. The Coast Miwok are working with the National Park Service to protect cultural sites from erosion and flooding and to document sites predicted to be lost. In Northern India, the Khasi tribe have guided rubber fig trees to develop living bridges and ladders in their villages, allowing their infrastructure to better resist the area’s monsoons over time rather than degrade like artificial infrastructure. Subak, or terraced agricultural surfaces of the Balinese, maintain high soil and water quality through coordinated planting schedules and shared water. Many Indigenous communities are also active in social movements for climate change planning to prevent environmental destruction; for example, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in Australia are advocating for the construction of emergency seawalls and reducing carbon emissions.
By incorporating TEK into adaptation strategies, Indigenous communities can resist climate change autonomously. Centering Indigenous voices in the discussion surrounding climate change can help create public policy that recognizes cultural differences and better supports the needs of such communities. The conversation of climate justice can’t exist without the larger context of the historical repression of Indigenous communities, but understanding the reality of tangible solutions based on ideas such as TEK is crucial in creating a difference in the communities that need it the most.