DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
Hoover, Elizabeth. 2017. “’You can’t say you’re sovereign if you can’t feed yourself:’ Defining and
Enacting Food Sovereignty in American Indian Community Gardening” American Indian Culture
and Research Journal 41(3): 31-70. DOI 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
This is the final submission copy to the journal, which I recognize that many people don’t have access to because of
a pay wall. The word document below contains the text of article, please contact me directly at
Elizabeth_M_Hoover@brown.edu for more information
“You Can’t Say You’re Sovereign If You Can’t Feed Yourself”: Defining and Enacting Food
Sovereignty in American Indian Community Gardening
Elizabeth Hoover
A sign at the entrance to the long narrow driveway proclaimed that this space was home to
Tsyunhehkwa, “Life Sustenance,” a certified organic farm and program of the Oneida Nation.1 The
shuttle turned down the driveway, past the small yellow farmhouse that comprises the farm’s office,
and pulled up in front of the large red barn. Climbing down the shuttle steps, representatives from
tribal projects in California, Saskatchewan, Cherokee Nation, Navajo Nation, and various Ojibway
communities from across the Great Lakes region, were promptly greeted by Don, one of the farm’s
employees. Each of these representatives had traveled from their own corner of Indian country to the
Oneida Nation of Wisconsin for the Food Sovereignty Summit, hosted by Oneida as well as the First
Nations Development Institute and the Intertribal Agriculture Council. Along with Ted and Jeff, Don
took them through the barn filled with braids of white corn hanging from the rafters; past the pastures
filled with chickens and grass-fed cows; through acres of Iroquois white corn; through the
greenhouse and chicken-processing facility; and lastly, everyone reboarded the shuttle for a tour of
the tribal cannery. In addition to these tribal representatives, hundreds of other indigenous gardeners,
farmers, ranchers, seed savers, fishermen, foragers, hunters, community organizers, educators, and
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chefs also attended the summit, all seeking to better connect with others in the movement and to
envision what food sovereignty could look like in their communities.
Taken up by activists and academics alike, food sovereignty has now become a rallying cry
for both established tribal programs and grassroots projects across Indian country. However, what is
meant by the term often varies considerably. This essay will place the term within specific notions of
America Indian sovereignty, as well as the context of the broader food sovereignty literature.
Exploring in detail how Native American community farmers and gardeners describe and define
food sovereignty as both concept and method, this article also examines how these definitions are
being operationalized in pursuing community goals of promoting health and reclaiming and
maintaining tribal culture.
[H1] Global Food Sovereignty
The term “food sovereignty” was first defined in 1996 by La Via Campesina, an international group
of peasant and small-scale farmers who sought to articulate a common response to neoliberalism and
the dominant market economy and to defend their rights to land and seeds.2 The term was refined
and brought to the world stage at the 2007 Forum for Food Sovereignty in Selingue, Mali, during
which five hundred delegates from over eighty countries adopted the Declaration of Nyeleni.
According to this declaration, “Food sovereignty is the right of peoples to healthy and culturally
appropriate food produced through ecologically sound and sustainable methods, and their right to
define their own food and agriculture systems.”3 The declaration goes on to highlight (1) the
importance of putting food producers and consumers, rather than corporations, at the heart of food
systems policies; (2) the need to include the next generation in food production, as well as
empowering food producers and artisans; (3) the importance of environmental, social and economic
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sustainability; and (4) the need for transparent trade, as well as equality between genders, racial
groups and social classes.4 Everyone in the food chain is positioned as a potentially powerful actor.5
The food sovereignty movement has grown out of, and pushed back against, efforts towards
and definitions of food security, a concept that activists and scholars have criticized as simply
addressing only an adequacy of food supply without specifying the means of food acquisition.
According to the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization, food security describes “a
situation that exists when all people, at all times, have physical, social and economic access to
sufficient, safe and nutritious food that meets their dietary needs and food preferences for an active
and healthy life.”6 This definition does not specify how, where, and by whom the food that all people
should have access to is produced, contributing to a focus on food-related policies that seek to
maximize food production while giving inadequate attention to who will benefit from where and how
that food is produced. Accordingly, efforts toward developing global “food security” have promoted
the concentration of food production and increased liberalization of agricultural trade, both of which
have benefitted multinational agribusiness corporations.
To neglect the source of food promotes the dumping of agricultural commodities below
market prices and the use of genetically modified seeds and other expensive agricultural inputs. This
has devastated domestic agricultural systems—undermining the economic position of small farmers
and reinforcing power differentials by promoting multinational corporations, rather than putting
resources back into the hands of those who would produce food for themselves.7 In the specific
context of North American food security studies, indigenous scholars argue that a focus only on the
supply end of food procurement does not adequately address the food conditions, histories, and
relationships of indigenous peoples, even if the intention is to document and address hunger in
individual households.8
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The food sovereignty movement, on the other hand, seeks to address issues of hunger,
environmentally unsustainable production, economic inequality, and issues of social justice on a
political level. Food sovereignty seeks to democratize food production, distribution, and consumption
and to shift “the focus from the right to access food to the right to produce it.”9 This is seen as an
alternative to neoliberal economic development and industrial agriculture, which devastate the
livelihoods of peasant and small-scale farmers10 and contribute to economic and environmental
crises.11 Furthermore, as Menser points out, food sovereignty is not only a reaction against
neoliberalism, but also “a project for the democratization of the food system that also aims to
restructure the state and remake the global economy.”12 He reasons that food sovereignty “is not just
about ‘farmers and food’ but the nature of work, the scope of politics, and the meaning of social and
ecological sustainability; it is about participatory democracy, dignity, solidarity, and social
inclusion.”13
Local food activists, then, may inadvertently legitimize the power of corporations in the food
system if they choose “green capitalism” as their primary tool, i.e. exercising consumer purchasing
power through boycotts and certification programs. On the other hand, Madeleine Fairbairn asserts ,
food sovereignty advocates target political bodies, focusing on the power relations that led to the
formation of the food regime. In this way, “the intensely political language used by food sovereignty
advocates makes it very difficult for their demands to be assimilated by corporations and therefore
increase the strength of their challenge to the status quo.”14
Through the support of more environmentally sustainable production and the support of
smaller producers, the food sovereignty movement also seeks to address what Philip McMichael has
labeled the “triple crisis”: (1) displaced local food production for almost half of humanity; (2)
deepening fossil fuel dependency in an age of “peak oil”; and that (3) roughly a quarter of the
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greenhouse gas emissions contributing to global climate change come from industrial agriculture.15
Yet the imperative of food sovereignty is not to simply add social justice components to an
environmentally sustainable food system: rather, it conceives of social justice as the foundation from
which a food system must be built, in a process working to correct historical and structural
injustices.16 The production, consumption and distribution of culturally appropriate food should be
accomplished while strengthening community, livelihoods and environmental sustainability.17 The
food sovereignty movement highlights the social connections inherent in the production and
consumption of food, demanding that we not treat it as just a commodity.18
To achieve this social justice, food sovereignty has been described as a “rights based political
framework,” built on a language of rights both to the tangible, such as land and seeds, and ideological
concepts, such as the ability to define one’s own culturally appropriate food systems.19 Priscilla
Claeys sees the possibility that food sovereignty itself, “as a collective right could become, in the
future, a new human right.”20 But while the concept of a universal human right is generally
considered beneficial to all, Asfia Gulrukh Kamal and colleagues have pointed out that laws
establishing a right to food sovereignty could be used to undermine cultural distinctions prized by
some groups, and those rights that have been established to protect those distinctions.21 Jeff
Corntassel has also criticized the framing of rights as legal entitlements, claiming that this discourse
has deemphasized the cultural responsibilities that indigenous people have to their families and the
natural world. ”22
While the term sovereignty conventionally refers to the sovereignty of the state over its
territory and its right to impart policies without external interference, the food sovereignty movement
focuses on food sovereignty as a “right of the peoples,” adopting a pluralistic concept that attributes
sovereignty not only to state actors, but also to and non-state actors, such as cultural and ethnic
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communities.23 For communities who experience nested layers of sovereignty, this can be
complicated.—the nation- state might seek to be sovereign over food production and distribution
without the interference of multinational entities, interpreting “food sovereignty” in a way that is,
“attractive to national governments advocating for strong state regulation of food chains.”24
Therefore, the movement’s focus on “peoples” is “not just a semantic move to make food
sovereignty feel inclusive; it indicates a focus on collective action to assert and maintain political
autonomy at multiple scales,”25 since, particularly in colonized societies, peoples’ and countries’
rights are not necessarily the same thing.26 In many indigenous communities, food sovereignty is a
continuation of anticolonial struggles; the politics employed by indigenous people engaged in the
food sovereignty movement are “not only a politics moored in both space and place, but a politics
developed as part of longer struggles against exploitation and colonization of that place.”27
For indigenous communities that experience nested layers of sovereignty, food sovereignty
as a term and concept can take on different layers of meaning, from the broader peasant struggle or
from that in urban communities.28 As sovereign nations (or “domestic dependents” as Native
American tribes were described by Chief Justice John Marshall in the precedent-setting The
Cherokee Nation v. The State of Georgia case (1831)), Native Americans tribes have been working
to integrate the struggle for food sovereignty into broader efforts of self-determination.29
[H1] Loss of Food Sovereignty in Indian Country
In considering how to apply the concept of food sovereignty to Native American communities’
efforts to regain control over and rebuild their food systems, it is important to consider the series of
factors that, as a function of colonization, have worked to disrupt indigenous food systems over the
past four centuries. In many cases, this interruption was intentional. In examining American history,
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Potawatomi philosopher Kyle Powys Whyte argues that while “many settler actions are tacit or
involve ignorant moralizing narratives, when it comes to food sovereignty, U.S. settlers deliberately
endorsed actions of erasure to undermine Indigenous collective self-determination.”30 This was done
as a function of “erasing the capacities that the societies that were already there—Indigenous
societies—rely on for the sake of exercising their own collective self-determination over their
cultures, economies, health, and political order.”31 This societal destruction includes a range of
actions, from deliberately destroying food in acts of war to interfering with the transfer of food-
related knowledge from one generation to the next.
Scorched-earth battle tactics utilized against Native people in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries sought to destroy food supplies and the land from which it came in order to make Native
people reliant on the American government.32 Indigenous communities have been pushed to
marginalized territories, and in many cases the treaty-making system alienated tribes from their
land.33 Land bases were further diminished through the allotment system that allocated communal
land to individuals and families. During the late-nineteenth and twentieth centuries, despite tribes’
successful histories of fishing and gathering, federal policies instead encouraged Native people on
many reservations to farm on marginal lands. While some tribal communities were traditionally
farmers, to others that were not, such as Plains tribes and other communities across North America,
the US and Canadian governments introduced farming projects in order to disrupt hunting cultures
and expand the agricultural frontier while assimilating indigenous livelihoods--even as non-Indians
often usurped the best farmland.34
During this era, many Native youth were also sent to boarding schools, where they were
often undernourished.35 In these schools, youth were encouraged to forget their tribal connections
and were forced to take on staples of a standard diet that embodied Anglo ideals of food ways. These
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meals centered around starches and dairy, a significant shift for students previously used to diets
based on fresh and dried meats, fruits, and vegetables.36 Following this era, urban relocation
programs in the 1950s brought Native people from rural reservations to urban centers for
employment opportunities, but this move often left families food insecure and distant from traditional
food sources.37
Environmental change has also impacted access to traditional foods, through both climate
change and intentional reshaping of the landscape. For example, damming the Missouri River in the
1940s and 1950s resulted in Native peoples in the Dakotas losing most of their arable land on the
Standing Rock, Cheyenne River, Crow Creek, and Fort Berthold reservations.38 Similar dams built
across the Northeast39 and the Northwest have disrupted fisheries and flooded indigenous
homelands.40 In addition, industrial contamination has impacted fishing in places like the Akwesasne
Mohawk community on the New York/Canadian border,41 and for the Coast Salish Swinomish
community in Washington State.42 In the polar regions, persistent organic pollutants have made
consuming the usual amounts of traditional foods hazardous to human health.43 In the Arctic climate
change has led to declining sea ice, forced community relocations, shifts in plant and animal
populations around North America, changes in river flow impacting water availability for crops, and
a broadening of the range of disease organisms.44 All of these changes over the past century have
impacted indigenous food systems.
As was agreed upon in many treaties, to make up for the loss of hunting, fishing, and
agricultural lands, during the nineteenth century food rations were distributed on many Indian
reservations to stave off the starvation and malnutrition that would have resulted from disrupted
indigenous food systems. These rations consisted of foods that were foreign to Indian people: beef,
bacon, four, coffee, salt, and sugar.45 The US federal government’s practice of providing food to
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American Indian communities has continued to the present day, now administered by the Food
Distribution Program on Indian Reservations (FDPIR). This federal program provides United States
Department of Agriculture (USDA) procured foods to low-income households living on Indian
reservations or in designated areas in Oklahoma.46 While the USDA has been working to improve
the quality of foods available to communities through this program, including making more fresh
foods available, historically these programs have done little to reinforce the relational aspects that
traditional food systems relied upon-- including the relationships developed and maintained between
people as part of food procurement and processing, as well as the relationships between humans and
the non-human communities who become food. Recent FDPIR efforts have included buffalo meat,
blue cornmeal, wild rice, and frozen wild sockeye salmon in the offerings, but including more
regionally relevant foods has been slowed because a food must be available in quantities for all
eligible participants in the United States. The FDPIR Food Package Working Group is currently
working to resolve this conflict.47
The disruption of traditional food systems has led to a number of health and social problems
in indigenous communities. American Indians have higher levels of food insecurity when compared
to the US average.48 In 2008, 23 percent of American Indian and Alaska Native (AI/AN) households
were food insecure, compared to 15 percent of all US households.49 Historically, indigenous societies
sometimes contended with seasonal and weather-related fluctuations of food sources and availability.
But while hunger is still a problem in some households, it is the increased consumption of processed
foods that have contributed to an elevation in diet-related health issues among Native peoples. AI/AN
children have approximately twice the levels of food insecurity, obesity, and type II diabetes relative
to the average for all US children of similar ages.50 Diabetes was first documented among Native
Americans around the mid-twentieth century;51 currently, American Indian/Alaska Native adults
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(16.1%) are more likely than black adults (12.6%), Hispanic adults (11.8%), Asian adults (8.4%), or
white adults (7.1%) to have ever been told they had diabetes. These rates vary by region, from 5.5
percent among Alaska Native adults to 33.5 percent among American Indian adults in southern
Arizona.52
Not only physical health problems resulted from the disruption of traditional food systems.
As the availability of foods has declined, so too have the stories, language, cultural practices,
interpersonal relationships, and outdoor activities implicated in those food systems. A tribal
community’s capacity for “collective continuance” and “comprehensive aims at robust living”53 are
hindered when the relationships that are part of traditional food cultures and economies are disrupted.
Tristan Reader and Terrol Johnson, who worked together to form the community organization
Tohono O’odham Community Action (TOCA), describe how “the endangerment of Tohono
O’odham symbolic culture followed directly the decline in material culture. People did not stop
planting the fields because the ceremonies were dying out; the ceremonies began to die out when
people stopped planting their fields. After all, if you never plant crops, the importance of rain is
diminished.”54
[H1] Tribal Sovereignty
Each of the disruptions and abuses described above was an attack on the sovereignty of indigenous
communities. But defining what exactly we mean by “sovereignty” for Native communities has
proven challenging. When I asked Anishnaabe (Ojibway) scholar, activist, community organizer, and
economist Winona LaDuke to give me her definition of food sovereignty, her response highlighted
part of the debate for many indigenous people around the term “sovereignty.” LaDuke replied,
“What is food sovereignty? You know I’m going to be honest with you, I actually have problems
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with the word sovereignty, because sovereignty is a definition that comes from a European
governance system based on monarchy and empire. And I’m really not interested in monarchy
and empire. They have no resilience, they have really nothing to do with who we are.”55
Mohawk scholar Taiaiake Alfred has noted that the concept of sovereignty originated in
Europe, and denoted a single divine ruler. Alfred describes sovereignty as “an exclusionary
concept rooted in an adversarial and coercive Western notion of power,” and wonders why more
people have not questioned how a European idea and term became so central to the political
agenda of Native peoples.56 But Joanne Barker has argued that there is no fixed meaning for
what sovereignty is, as it is embedded within the specific social relations in which the term is
invoked and given meeting, determined by political agendas and cultural perspectives. She
argues that in its links to concepts of self-determination and self-government, sovereignty insists
on the recognition of rights to political institutions that are historically and culturally located.57
Contemporary understandings of sovereignty have included understandings that nations are
autonomous and independent, self-governing, and generally free of external interference.58 Tribal
sovereignty has come to include the authority of tribal governments to engage in a range of
activities, including determining citizenship, regulating on-reservation commercial activities,
varying levels of criminal jurisdiction, natural resource management, providing child welfare,
social services, and more. Moreover, sovereignty serves as the legal framework for most
American Indian rights claims.59
Even with this general understanding of what we mean by “sovereignty,” other scholars
have critiqued the use of the term, as there is not a clear consensus on its precise meaning, or
how to achieve it, and it has been applied to a multitude of uses and issues. Jace Weaver has
stated that sovereignty has perhaps become a retronym, a word that has lost its original meaning
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through so many different usages that it can no longer be employed without an adjectival modifier. It
may now be necessary to refer to “multiple sovereignties” and to distinguish among them—political,
cultural, territorial, economic, intellectual, and the like.60 Some might argue that the term “food
sovereignty” could be added to this assortment of multiple sovereignties. Similarly, Lakota
philosopher Vine Deloria Jr. has argued, “Today the definition of sovereignty covers multitude of
sins, having lost its political moorings, and now is adrift on the currents of individual fancy.”61
On the other hand, taking up Deloria’s criticisms, Chickasaw scholar Amanda Cobb explains that
“the terms or definitions of tribal sovereignty have real, tangible consequences in the everyday
experiences of Native Americans. It is through these terms and definitions that Native nations
experience limitation on their abilities to exercise sovereignty and live as they choose.”62 She feels
that we should not reject the term in favor of more user-friendly terms (she gives the example of
“self-determination” or “cultural autonomy”), but instead, because the term sovereignty has such
powerful and legal consequences in American courtrooms as well as in the international community,
“we must use the term sovereignty and the discourse surrounding it as a critical tool to strengthen
tribal cultural, political, and economic autonomy.”63 Along this vein, advocates have operationalized
the term food sovereignty as a means of trying to leverage this cultural, political, and economic
autonomy for the purposes of revitalizing food systems.
[H1] Indigenous Food Sovereignty
In the context of the very specific meanings of the term “sovereignty” for many indigenous people,
and specifically Native American and First Nations communities, as well as because of the very
specific cultural connections to land, and political relationships to settler-colonial governments,
scholars and activists have worked to specifically define an indigenous food sovereignty.64 These
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definitions are constructed within a framework that recognizes the social, cultural, and economic
relationships that underlie community food-sharing. They seek to stress the importance of communal
culture, decolonization, and self-determination, as well as the inclusion of fishing, hunting, and
gathering--rather than just agriculture--as key elements of a food sovereignty approach.65 Put simply,
indigenous food sovereignty “refers to a re-connection to land-based food and political systems,”66
and seeks to uphold “sacred responsibilities to nurture relationships with our land, culture,
spirituality, and future generations.”67
Whyte describes that the “indigenous food systems” at the center of these definitions “refer
to specific collective capacities of particular indigenous peoples to cultivate and tend, produce,
distribute, and consume their own foods, recirculate refuse, and acquire trusted foods and
ingredients from other populations.” He specifies that the concept of “collective capacities”
describes an “an ecological system, of interacting humans, nonhuman beings (animals, plants,
etc) and entities (spiritual, inanimate, etc.) and landscapes (climate regions, boreal zones, etc.)
that are conceptualized and operate purposefully to facilitate a collective’s (such as an
indigenous people’s) adaptation to metascale forces.”68 As described above, indigenous
communities’ abilities to adapt to these forces was intentionally and unintentionally disrupted
through the establishment of settler-colonial nations. As Karla Rae Rudolph and Stephane
McLachlan describe, “An indigenous food sovereignty framework explicitly connects the health of
food with the health of the land and identifies a history of social injustice as having radically reduced
indigenous food sovereignty in colonized nations.”69
The concept of indigenous food sovereignty is not just focused on rights to land and food and
the ability to control a production system, but also responsibilities to them, which encompasses
culturally, ecologically and spiritually appropriate relationships with elements of those systems. This
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entails emphasizing reciprocal relationships with aspects of the landscape and the entities on it,
“rather than asserting rights over particular resources as a means of controlling production and
access.”70 Secwepemc scholar Dawn Morrison describes indigenous food sovereignty as a
framework for exploring the right conditions for “reclaiming the social, political, and personal health
we once experienced prior to colonization. But the framework itself does not resolve where the
responsibility for it lies.”71 The responsibility lies with indigenous people to participate in traditional
food-related activities on a daily basis, build coalitions with friends and allies, and assert and insist on
the utilization of indigenous values, ethics, and principles in making decisions that impact “forest and
rangeland, fisheries, environment, agriculture, community development and health.”72 Because of
this focus on cultural relevancy and specific relationships to food systems, cultural restoration is
imperative for indigenous food sovereignty, “generally more so than to non-indigenous food
sovereignty.”73
While some of the previous arguments about the use of the term “sovereignty” also could
apply to the struggle of defining and enacting indigenous food sovereignty, indigenous people are
defining the term to their advantage, as Cobb points out.74 In their work with the O-Pipon-Na-Piwin
Cree Nation, Kamal and colleagues describe how the way in which this community uses the term
food sovereignty, neither “food” nor “sovereignty” retains their classical meanings. Food, which is
often framed as “consumable commodities,” is instead framed under its cultural meaning as the bond
between people, health, and land. Sovereignty, rather than being perceived as control over land,
water, or wildlife, was instead framed by this community as a relationship with these entities that
allows for the mutual benefit of all parties.75
Usefully summarizing the overall discussion of indigenous food sovereignty, Dawn Morrison
and the Working Group on Indigenous Food Sovereignty developed four principles: (1) the
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recognition that the right to food is sacred, and food sovereignty is achieved by upholding sacred
responsibilities to nurture relationships with the land, plants, and animals that provide food; (2) day-
to-day participation in indigenous food-related action at all of the individual, family, community and
regional level is fundamental to maintaining indigenous food sovereignty; (3) self-determination, or
the ability of communities and families to respond to the needs for culturally relevant foods and the
freedom to make decisions over the amount and quality of food hunted, fish, gathered, grown, and
eaten; and (4) legislation and policy support to reconcile indigenous food and cultural values with
colonialist laws, policies, and mainstream economic activities.76
As the debate about how to define food sovereignty generally-- and indigenous food
sovereignty specifically-- developed in the literature, this research project was undertaken to learn
more about how actual practitioners in indigenous community-based food projects were defining and
operationalizing food sovereignty on the ground. I also sought to understand how concepts of food
sovereignty informed and motivated their ongoing work to maintain and restore traditional food
systems and promote better health in their communities.
[H1] Methods
I first became involved in conversations around food sovereignty through volunteering with the
Akwesasne Mohawk community-based organization Kanenhi:io Ionkwaienthon:hakie (We Are
Planting Good Seeds), with which I have been involved since 2007. Located in a community that has
been contending with environmental contamination and an overall diminishment of farming and
gardening, the goal of Kanenhi:io is to boost local food production by helping Mohawk people have
access to land, equipment, funds, and a community of fellow gardeners .77 Conversations with fellow
project participants on how to increase community involvement and access to funds then led me to
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take part in twenty-five different food sovereignty summits and indigenous farming conferences,
hosted by tribal nations such as the Oneida Nation of Wisconsin, community groups such as the
White Earth Land Recovery Project, and organizations including the First Nations Development
Institute, the Intertribal Agriculture Council, and the Native American Food Sovereignty Alliance
(see fig. 1). In an effort to learn more about the indigenous community-based farming and gardening
projects I was hearing about during these conferences, during the summer of 2014 I drove twenty-
thousand miles around the United States to visit thirty-nine of these projects in person (see fig. 2).
INSERT FIGURES 1 AND 2 ABOUT HERE
In the process, I conducted fifty-two formal interviews, and recorded thirty-four conversations and
farm tours.78 Of the fifty-two formal interviews conducted, forty-six were with individuals who
identify as Native American, and six were with project staff who do not identify as Native, but have
been working closely for a number of years with the Native communities who hired them to run
these projects. Interviews were transcribed, and then coded in NVivo 8, based on themes presented in
the interview questions and those that arose organically through the interviews.79 I also wrote a blog
post about each of the communities I visited, which featured the story of each project and
accompanying photographs.80 Project participants were asked to approve each post to ensure that
they were being portrayed in a manner they felt was appropriate. The blog served two purposes: it
gave these projects a web presence, which was then later helpful for some in acquiring additional
funding and recognition, but it also helped each of these community organizations to learn more
about each other.
Among the questions that I asked during these interviews--including asking participants to
describe the history of their projects, some of their successes and challenges, and advice they would
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give to new indigenous food projects--I asked each interviewee to define food sovereignty and to
describe how this term or concept fit into their own work or was utilized in their own communities.
The results section below breaks down elements of the definitions they provided to me, puts them in
conversation with each other, and highlights where aspects of these definitions converge and diverge
with other food sovereignty definitions.
[H1] Results
When participants were asked to define food sovereignty, their answers coalesced into a number of
themes raised by the authors above—namely, the importance of food to cultural identity;
relationships to the environment, food sources, and other people; and the need for independence to
make choices around how to define food systems and what exactly to eat, at tribal and community
levels as well as on an individual level. Additionally, the importance of access to food, land, and
information was raised, as well as the role of the tribe in providing them. Participants also focused on
the issue of control—over what they put in their mouths, what seeds are planted, and how their tribes
should take back control of their land and food systems from outside influence. Participants further
raised the importance of education, improving health, and focusing on the youth and future
generations. Heritage seeds—most passed down through generations of indigenous gardeners, with
some reacquired from seed banks or ally seed savers—were often discussed as the foundation of the
movement and as living relatives to be protected from patent or modification, but also seen as tools
for education and reclaiming health.
To conclude this article, I discuss the assertion made by many of the participants that in order
for tribes to properly assert that they are fully sovereign, they need to work towards achieving food
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sovereignty first. With that in mind, food sovereignty was seen by many not as a final state that could
be achieved, but rather characterized as a process, as a method, and as a movement.
[H2] Health
Driving much of their work on issues related to food sovereignty, and some of the main motivators
that participants described for taking part in community-based projects, included concern about poor
health in their community, anxiety about the grave health statistics described previously, and a desire
to try to rectify this situation. Food sovereignty was described as a necessary tool to solve existing
health problems, as well as to promote better health in the future. Traditional foods in many
communities have become less available, and commodity foods and processed, packaged foods have
become more available, contributing to poor health. As Julie Garreau (Lakota), director of the
Cheyenne River Youth Project, explained
for so long we ate those foods that weren’t good for us, and we didn’t know… We struggle
with diabetes, it’s just rampant in our communities so we just need to change our diet …
Because in the end, if you don’t have a healthy population, you don’t have anything. They’re
not going to get to school, they’re not going to have long, healthy lives, they’re not going to
be able to raise their children. You need healthy people. And who doesn’t want a healthy
nation? We want that for us. As parents and grandparents, we want our kids to have long,
productive lives. So food is a part of it.”81
These concerns motivated Garreau to incorporate a garden and kitchen into her youth program.
Similarly, Dan Powless (Ojibway) described the purpose of the Bad River Gitiganing project as “to
regain the health that we need. We’ve got a lot of health problems, nutrition problems on reservations
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and things like that, so I think that’s the first thing we’re looking at is health of the people … the
main focus that we kind of think of is the health first.”
George Toya (Jemez Pueblo), who runs the garden for Nambe Pueblo, also connected diet
change to health problems and saw it as part of his mission to work towards gradually reversing the
situation.
Our diet has changed so much and the evidence is in the health of the people. They’re not as
healthy as they used to be even a few generations ago. It’s really changed. If it took that long
to change us, it might take that long for us to get back to that point where we’re healthy
people again and this is kind of our attempt to do that. Being sovereign is not just about being
a totally isolated nation, it’s about being able to really feed— make your people well, and
feed them again.82
This, he recognized, was not going to happen quickly, but is an important goal to work towards.
For Kenny Perkins (Mohawk) from Kanenhi:io, good health for himself as well as future
generations will result from working towards food sovereignty:
I believe that food sovereignty means that we’re able to feed ourselves and by feeding
ourselves we know what’s going into our body. And when we know what’s going into our
body and we’re healthy, we are able to make better decisions, especially for those future
generations that’s coming up. And if we can show them the right way the first time, they
won’t know any other way. And so in turn, they’ll become healthy.83
Speaking to an audience full of Native gardeners, foragers, chefs, and others interested in
food in 2013, Valerie Segrest (Muckleshoot) advocated that
when we follow our traditional diets we’re healthier people. Our immune systems can stand
up to the seasons. One hundred years ago diabetes and heart disease were nonexistent in our
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communities. We know what we need to do to be able to solve our health crisis. Telling
people what to eat is not the root cause of our problem; it’s access to our traditional foods.
Preventable diseases rise when we don’t have access to traditional foods.84
She carried this thought into our interview in July 2014, continuing, “the reason why we have a lot
of diabetes and heart disease in our community is because we’ve been taken away from our
traditional food system and have experienced the effects of a superimposed diet on people. When I
talk to my leaders they know and they preach about how if we ate our traditional foods we wouldn’t
be sick.”85 For these reasons, Segrest and others working on similar projects are promoting a shift in
diet specifically to culturally important health foods.
[H2] Culturally Appropriate Foods
Grim public health statistics reflect the impacts to physical health that are caused by disrupted food
sources. But it is also important to note the impacts of these disruptions to cultural and spiritual
health, which are reliant on important cultural connections to food. It is notable that many of the
projects I visited are not just trying to grow just any nutritious food—in many cases, they are seeking
to restore culturally relevant food. Guaranteed access to “culturally appropriate foods” is a central
tenet of the most basic definition of food sovereignty. This phrase was reflected in many of the
definitions provided by participants. For example, Diane Wilson (Dakota), director of the Dream of
Wild Health program, defines food sovereignty as “having access to healthy, affordable, culturally
appropriate food.” She later went on to describe that “part of this cultural recovery process” that
many tribes as well as urban Indian communities are undertaking, “is the idea that you have control
over your own food.”86 Dream of Wild Health seeks to provide that access and control to urban
Native youth and their families through internships at their farm as well as cooking classes.87
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Similarly, Scott Shoemaker (Miami) defines food sovereignty as “the ability to seed your own
community with cultural appropriate foods.”88 As a curator of an indigenous seed collection at the
Minnesota Museum of Science, he worked to do that through collaborations with nearly a dozen
indigenous community projects who partnered to form the Indigenous Seed Keepers Network, who
are now growing out seeds from that collection and sharing them with other community members.89
Even if these foods are already available, Tom Cook (Mohawk) who directed the Slim Buttes
Agricultural Project on Pine Ridge for over two decades, described food sovereignty as “the
expansion of local, culturally produced food stuffs.”90
These culturally appropriate foods are seen as serving as more than just nourishment for the
physical body. Roberto Nutlouis (Navajo), who runs food and farming projects through the Black
Mesa Water Coalition, explains that “corn isn’t just corn for our people, it has so much spiritual
significance. It’s a biological and spiritual nourishment to our people.”91 Nutlouis works with youth
to maintain fields of Navajo heritage corn, using traditional dry land farming methods, and then uses
that corn to feed youth and elders.
Several cultural programs in Native communities focus on food as an important vehicle for
delivering cultural information. Kenny Perkins recalled that a major focus of the Ase Tsi Tewaton
Akwesasne Cultural Restoration Program was to restore traditional foodways disrupted by
environmental contamination. On the opposite coast, in the state of Washington, Romajean Thomas
(Muckleshoot) described a “cultural sovereignty” class they held at Muckleshoot Tribal College that
focuses on food culture. “Food sovereignty is really at the root of cultural sovereignty. It’s what our
treaties are for and what our ancestors fought for.”92 Similarly, Bob Shimek (Ojibway), the current
director of the White Earth Land Recovery Project in the Ojibway community of White Earth in
Minnesota, is focused on
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using Ojibway food systems as the vehicle for cultural restoration and revitalization. Those
little creation stories that come with each one of our relatives, whether they be the fish or
the birds or the plants or the insects or the frogs or turtles or whatever, so many of those
have a little story about how they got here. Inside those words that tell that story, that’s
where the true meaning and value of our culture is stored in, our languages that tell those
stories. So that’s the effort I’m making right now—it’s to not only keep building on our
physical health, improving our physical health by teaching people not only about gardening
and small scale farming but also all the wild plants, the wild foods that are out there, and
packaging those up in the historical, cultural, and spiritual context which is part of the
original understanding in terms of our role here on this turtle island…. Food sovereignty
means that we’re taking care of that cultural and spiritual relationship with our food.93
In this way, food sovereignty is not just a goal in and of itself, but a tool to achieve other aspects of
cultural restoration that are connected to health and language. The Mvskoke Food Sovereignty
Initiative in Oklahoma partners with the Euchee language immersion program every summer,
helping the students to plant a garden at the school. Stephanie Berryhill (Mvskoke Creek), who
worked as a youth programs coordinator for MFSI, asserted that “Language is the most critical
marker of the health, and the cultural health of the community. It’s an important mark of the
sovereignty of each of our Indigenous nations.” As we stood and watched half-a-dozen girls from the
summer program tuck corn seeds into freshly tilled soil, Richard Grounds (Yuchi/Seminole), the
director of the Euchee language program, described the garden as the perfect place to learn and
practice language “because you’re physically doing what’s being said that helps you to remember
and learn and associate the meaning with the activity and that has all that repetition built in. So we
can view the language in a natural way”; and in addition, have food to show for it.
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Food was also described as a core and necessary component of culture. Cassius Spears Sr.
(Narragansett), who is heading up the Narragansett Food Sovereignty Initiative, described that food
“is to me what identifies your culture, your traditions, basically who you are. And it brings people
together, it’s like the kitchen of the house,” playing on the image of the kitchen as not just the place
where food is prepared, but also the central gathering place in many homes, the place where people
often receive wisdom from elder women culture-bearers. For Spears Sr., food is the central hearth,
the foundation, of culture and overall tribal sovereignty, the same way a kitchen is to a home.94
Without this core component of food, indigenous cultures are compromised. Valerie Segrest
explains, “When our foods cease to exist so do we as a people. They’re there to remind us who we
are and where we come from.” She goes on to describe how tribal “creation stories tell us that we are
to commit ourselves to ceremonies around food. Food is our greatest teacher—without a spoken
word.” On the other hand, she describes that “culture repression” impedes her community’s ability to
access teachings from fish, trees, and other elements from their environment in the Pacific
Northwest. Access to traditional foods and the practice of ceremony around those foods is necessary
for the continued survival, and growth, of Coast Salish tribal culture.95
Alan Bacock (Paiute) from the Big Pine Paiute permaculture project in California described
what happened when indigenous people were denied access to traditional foods: “we saw through
our history that when we lacked the ability to provide food for our people is when our culture started
to decline … if we were able to maintain our local food control, we would still have a strong cultural
identity, strong cultural heritage.”96 For these reasons, the reconstruction of traditional food systems
is seen as imperative to cultural restoration and health.
[H2] Relationships
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These cultural practices are in many ways centered on relationships—with food and with other tribal
members around food— as opposed to considering food simply as a commodity. Jeremy McClain
(Ojibway), formerly with the Bad River Gitiganing project, described “that symbiotic relationship
with your environment. To me that’s food sovereignty, if you take care of your environment it will
take care of you.” Within that context, he also mentioned the importance of the different Anishnaabe
nations maintaining relationships with each other, and different programs and departments within the
tribal government establishing relationships in order to foster the success of food sovereignty
projects.97 Similarly, Lannesse Baker (Ojibway) with the Mashkiiki Gitigan project in Minneapolis,
described food sovereignty as being “about that relationship we have with food and our ability to
feed ourselves and sustain ourselves.” Because she works with urban indigenous populations, she
described the importance of projects like Mashkiiki Gitigan in “facilitating that relationship to the
earth and the environment and food-- the healthy foods, the original foods.”98
Some foods were described as actual relatives with whom positive relationships needed to be
maintained. After we returned from a four-day bahidaj (saguaro cactus fruit) picking camp hosted by
Tohono O’odham Community Action, Terrol Dew Johnson (Tohono O’odham) described how “the
raw food that was harvested this weekend, in our traditional songs is referred to as being a little girl, a
person, a woman.” He went on to tell the story about a little girl who was neglected by her mother
and despite the help of different birds and animals, became so sad she sunk into the ground and grew
into a cactus bud.99 As will be described in greater detail below, seed keepers I interviewed
repeatedly highlighted the importance of “relationships” to seeds, as opposed to ownership of them.
Clayton Brascoupe (Mohawk), director of the Traditional Native American Farming Association,
repeatedly described seeds as “our living relatives,” who need to be cared for and protected from
people who would treat them as commodities.
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These relationships between human communities and the other communities that make
up a tribal nation’s food system are reflected in what Mariaelena Huambachano describes as
indigenous “good living” philosophies through which food sovereignty and food security should
be framed, because these philosophies do “not solely focus on economic growth but rather place
an emphasis on indigenous peoples’ tenets of duality, equilibrium and reciprocity in order to
enjoy and preserve the bounties of Pachamama to safeguard food security.” She goes on to argue
that these philosophies “offer models for promoting biodiversity, social equity and economic
growth without agrochemicals, and preserving Mother Earth.”100 Maintaining these philosophies,
specifically the Anishnaabe concept of Mino Bimadiziiwin, was described as the key to a healthy
productive community. Winona LaDuke describes,
The Creator gave us instructions. Mino Bimadiziiwin, about how to lead a good life. And
the Creator gave us this land Oma akiing here upon which to live. Our instructions were to
take care of each other, take care of all of our relatives, whether they had wings or fins or
roots or paws. To be respectful, and to live that life. That's what I want to do. In that life, we
feed ourselves— our food does not come from Walmart, our food does not come from fast
food, we are not engaged in an industrial era. We are people that live from the gifts here.101
Food sovereignty is the process of nurturing the proper relationships with food elements. As Bob
Shimek (Ojibway), current director of the White Earth Land Recovery Project described,
Food sovereignty also means that we’re taking care of that cultural and spiritual
relationship with our food. This is not by any means a one-way thing. I mean it’s not
like we can just go out there and keep taking and taking from all that which was put
here for us without properly taking care of that land and those relatives of ours that were
put here for our use, benefit, and enjoyment. So I think the true measure of food
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sovereignty is when you have that reciprocal relationship where Anishinaabeg is
thriving as are all our plant, animal, bird, fish relatives, etc. That’s food sovereignty
when it’s all lock-stepping together in what we call Mino Bimadiziiwin, the good life.102
This good life philosophy encapsulates the harmony that is established when, as participants have
described above, symbiosis has been maintained through respectful relationships between humans
and the other communities that contribute to their food systems.
[H2] Independence
Many of the participants equated food sovereignty with a level of independence from outside forces
when it came to sourcing food—on an individual level, as a community, and as a sovereignty tribal
nation. The notion of being able to feed yourself was at the root of an individual’s responsibility
towards broader food sovereignty; as Milo Yellowhair (Lakota) from the Slim Buttes Agricultural
Project reflected “sovereignty is an issue that’s rooted in the ability to feed one’s self.” Woodrow
White (Ho-Chunk) from the Whirling Thunder garden project described food sovereignty as “you
can grow lock, stock, and barrel all of your own food… if you can feed yourself that’s a giant step.
No dependency out there. That’s the sovereignty you’re talking about and there’s not that many of us
to take care of our own.” Looking around at the collection of individual garden boxes that comprised
the community garden he had helped establish, Woodrow went on to describe how once individuals
become independent, they could then contribute to feeding an entire community.
For others, it was the ability to rely on their fellow community members rather than outside
companies for inputs in running the local food system that constituted the necessary independence
for food sovereignty. Angelo McHorse (Taos Pueblo), who ran the Red Willow farm at Taos Pueblo,
defined food sovereignty as, “you don’t have to depend on any companies for your seed or your
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fertilizer, even big tractors or oil much less. We have all our own ditches, we have all our own seed.
We have all our own energy— your own hands.” Similarly, Jayson Romero (Cochiti Pueblo) who
apprentices young farmers through the Cochiti Youth Experience defines food sovereignty as “not
having to go outside of ourselves to get the things that we need and use.” Looking out over his field
of knee-high corn plants sprouting up out of the sand, he described all of the special occasions that
require traditional Pueblo corn. Food sovereignty, he decided, would be accomplished when “the
ladies here do not have to go anywhere else to find the stuff that they need,” because farmers were
able to provide all of the corn necessary for these occasions. Sitting in his adobe home in his wife’s
community of Tesuque Pueblo, Clayton Brascoupe (Mohawk) also showed me pictures of his
cornfields, maintained by his entire family. He described that their community will have achieved
food sovereignty when “we have the ability to provide for ourselves, our children, our neighbors,
within our community.”
Part of defining food sovereignty entailed not only having individual members of the
community rely on each other rather than multinational corporations, but also specifically the ability
of the tribal community to provide for its members. Grace Ann Byrd (Nisqually) who works for the
Nisqually Community Garden, defines food sovereignty as “being able to provide for your own
people, to work the land, to have that garden stand…. So being able to provide for our own… we like
to provide for our own people because that’s what I believe is sovereignty, is providing for the tribal
members, the community members that reside here, and our elders in the diabetes program.”
A third level of independence described by participants was on a tribal level—the tribe, as
both a community and a government becoming less dependent on outside entities to provide food for
their constituents. As Jeremy McClain (Ojibway) described, food sovereignty is “reducing our tribe’s
dependence on the mainstream food production system and distribution.” Chuck Hoskins, the
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Cherokee Nation Secretary of State, described food sovereignty as “Cherokees producing for
themselves, producing food for our families and for our people. Not being dependent on outside state
influences.” Amos Hinton (Ponca) who started an agriculture program for his tribe, explained
Food sovereignty is the ability to take care of yourself without input from outside forces. If
I as a department head can produce all of the food for my tribe that they need, then not only
are we food sovereign, we are indeed sovereign. You look at a tribe who says; “we are a
sovereign nation.” Where do you get your food from? Do you buy it from an outside
source? If you buy it from somebody else, then you are not a sovereign nation, because
you’re dependent on somebody else for your food. To me, if you’re growing all of your
own food, then you are a sovereign nation. At one time all Native American tribes were
sovereign nations. They are not now.103
Within these levels of independence, participants recognized that in many cases the support of
tribal government in working towards food sovereignty went a long way towards supporting
food sovereignty for individuals and for the community as a whole.
[H2] Economics
The focus on more equitable economic systems, which comprises much of the focus of global food
sovereignty definitions, also surfaced in these participants’ definitions, not only in the context of
keeping food dollars within the community to support tribal food producers, but also in efforts to
make these nonprofit organizations sustainable. Winona LaDuke (Ojibway) described a survey of the
White Earth reservation, conducted by the White Earth Land Recovery Project, that found that their
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community was spending one-quarter of its economy on food, a majority of which was being spent
off-reservation. She has since expressed her determination to direct more of those food dollars to
support on-reservation food producers.104 Stephanie Berryhill (Mvskoke Creek) from MFSI reflected
on the quantity of food being served out of the tribe’s casino, all of which is “purchased from outside
vendors when we should be producing it ourselves. We should be providing jobs and keeping this
money in our communities.”105
To remedy situations like this, some of the participants are developing payment systems or
buying practices that seek to keep food dollars within Native communities. Director Garreau made
arrangements so the Cheyenne River Youth Project now accepts EBT cards at their little store and
farmers market, as a way of directing federal government dollars provided to community members
towards supporting local food producers. Lilian Hill (Hopi) described her efforts to help create
markets for farmers and local producers, in order to support them as well as promote the sale of
healthy food. Hopi Tutswa Permaculture, which Hill runs, partnered with the Hopi Food Co-op,
Natwani Coalition, and the Hopi Special Diabetes Program to create the Hopi Farmers Market on
Second Mesa, which provides an opportunity for food producers and consumers to connect directly.
The market “provides a venue for local farmers and gardeners to sell or exchange their fresh,
seasonal produce directly with the Hopi community,” and in a feature unusual to most farmers’
markets, but in line with a traditional Hopi economy, encourages “community members to bring
fresh produce, vegetables, crafts, home prepared foods, and crafts to trade/barter/exchange with
farmers’ market vendors.”106
Native chefs and restaurant owners have also become involved in promoting Native food
producers. Sean Sherman (Lakota), the chef behind The Sioux Chef enterprise, described his efforts
to “really try to use as many Native producers as possible—so keeping a lot of these food dollars
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within the Native communities will be a thing in making these food systems sustainable for
everyone—the famers, the wild rice harvesters, the people foraging and just gathering stuff that can
be sold, or people raising animals.”107 Similarly, in a conversation in his Denver-based restaurant
Tocabe, chef Ben Jacobs (Osage) described his buying practices as “Native first,” purchasing first
from indigenous food producers even if they are outside of Colorado, and purchasing second from
local non-Native food producers.108
Because the majority of the participants I spoke with worked for nonprofit organizations
centered on food, they described the struggle to make their projects more economically self-
sufficient. Dianne Wilson’s goal is to make the Dream of Wild Health “farm ultimately become
economically independent” through their farmers’ market and other programs, rather than relying
solely on grants and gifts.109 Romajean Thomas similarly reflected on the struggle to find the
necessary funds to keep their community-based programs running. “It’s a sustainability question.
How do we keep funds coming in?”110 Many other projects expressed similar concerns about how to
keep the necessary staff to run these projects promoting food sovereignty, without negatively
impacting the livelihoods of those staff. For example, at the time of their interview two project co-
directors had not been paid in several months, but continued coming to work—sacrificing their own
personal economic well being in order to keep their organization afloat.111
But in addition to conventional monetary exchanges--and beyond the notion that projects and
communities should be economically independent and supply all of their own food to be considered
“truly food sovereign”--participants also highlighted the important role of trade, historically and in
the present. For example, in their research with indigenous communities in what is now called British
Columbia, Turner and Loewen describe how archaeologists have documented extensive trade
networks that specifically brought plant products to the Pacific Northwest, in order to obtain plants
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which are not available or difficult to access locally and also to access products that require
specialized skills. They argue that few if any environments provide all of the resources a group needs
at any given time, and so trade has long been used to counter instabilities in resource supply, and to
provide variety. With this in mind, they note that rather than building a strictly localized food system
as an alternative to the global industrial system (the language of the local food movement),
indigenous communities are in many ways seeking to protect traditional food practices and
networks.112 Similarly, Scott Shoemaker stated that he prefers the term “interdependence” to
“independence,” arguing that tribal communities have always relied on trade and reciprocity.113
Josh Sargent (Mohawk) with the group Kanenhi:io worked to unpack what his fellow
group members mean by “food sovereignty” and “what we mean when we say ‘independence,’”
positing that “I know we’re not going to go 100% because honestly no one ever has. Trade has
always been a trait that humans do, they don’t live in bubbles.” He describes the need for people to
“at least make your own basic needs, you have to be able to do that,” to be considered sovereign, but
beyond that he sees trade as having always been important.114 This sentiment was also embodied in a
call to reconnect or reestablish trade routes between Native communities as a form of economic and
cultural support and revitalization. Seed keeper Rowen White (Mohawk) directs the Sierra Seeds
cooperative and currently serves as the chair of the board for Seed Savers Exchange. She believes
that seed keeping and seed exchanges are part of planning for the future: “I think also in times of
global climate change, we will be reestablishing trade routes, we will be connecting with other tribes
and other people because I think that was always happening in the first place, corn went from this
tribe to this other tribe and we mixed it with ours and made something new.”115 Similarly, Pati
Martinson (Lakota), in describing what constituents are asking for from the still-developing Native
American Food Sovereignty Alliance (NAFSA), mentioned that “people have said they’re really
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interested in bringing back those trade routes. And part of that could be a big economic development,
community development, piece as well.”116 Dan Cornelius (Oneida) and the Intertribal Agriculture
Council worked to enact this, beginning the Mobile Farmers Market “Reconnecting the Tribal Trade
Routes Roadtrip” in 2014 that collected, purchased and exchanged food stuffs from tribal
communities across the United States.117 The market continues, with a brick-and-mortar store
recently opened in Madison, Wisconsin, stocked with food products and other nonfood items that are
traded for food from across Indian country.
[H2] Access
Many of the food sovereignty definitions centered around terms of access—to food, land, and
knowledge. Darlene Fairbanks from the Little Earth housing project in Minneapolis defined it simply
as “Just having access to healthy food,” a description that was echoed by several others.118
Melissa Nelson (Turtle Mountain Chippewa), director of the Cultural Conservancy, framed her
definition of food sovereignty around terms of access at the individual, community, and political
levels. On an individual level, she notes, “we don’t always have control over what we have access
to,” limited by factors like affordability and availability of foods, “but what we put in our mouths we
really do.”119 Jeff Metoxen from Tsyunhehkwa similarly pointed out that their project can grow and
package white corn and other traditional foods, but it is up to individuals “whether you decide to
access it.”120 Nelson then went on to describe, “on a community level, it’s a community’s ability to
determine the foods that they have access to, and that they can utilize for the health and well-being of
the whole, so it’s really about access and sharing.” And then on a political level, “Indian nations
really have a legal obligation to their citizenship about what foods they grown and make accessible
for their larger nations.”121
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Barriers to accessing healthy, culturally appropriate food include the cost of these foods for
those who have to purchase them, and access to land for those trying to grow their own. As Lannesse
Baker at the Mashkiikii Gitigan garden in Minneapolis reports, “people talk within the urban
community about a lot of challenges related to access to healthy food, whether there are barriers to
access because of affordability issues or challenges with transportation.”122 Similarly, Keith
Glidewell (Paiute) of the Bishop Paiute Tribe defines the challenges to food sovereignty, even with
“access to food funds.” as “having food availability. Is there food within the reservation that can be
accessed?... Can you afford to buy it?” Especially in a resort town like Bishop, California, “they
gouge us for everything here. So that’s my main thing, is it available, is it affordable?”123 Similarly,
Amos Hinton of the Ponca tribe in Oklahoma described, “Our average household income is $7,000 a
year. You can tell them all day long to eat healthy, but they can’t afford it.”124
Access to land was cited as another challenge in achieving food sovereignty, whether for
farmland, or land for hunting and harvesting wild foods— something for example, that the
Muckleshoot tribe is looking to address through the recent purchase of 96,000 acres of land from a
timber company.125 Stephanie Berryhill describes how some Mvskoke Creek tribal members moved
to urban areas “because of access to jobs,” but their families lost land in the process. Berryhill cites
lack of “access to land” as a major factor in limiting the nation’s ability to be food sovereign. To
address this “means that we promote policy, and ultimately tribal laws that will enable citizens to
have access to land to grow food.”126 Otherwise, as Lori Watso from the Shakopee Mdewaketon
Sioux describes, “if there comes a time where we don’t have access to clean food, or any food, what
difference does everything else that you’ve built—it doesn’t matter … if we’re able to develop or
reach a point of food sovereignty, we’ll be ok.”127 Access to land was seen as imperative in many
cases to accessing sufficient culturally relevant food.
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[H2] Decisions and Choices
Having the freedom to make decisions about food and the ability to make good choices were both
cited as an integral part of what it meant to have food sovereignty. Julie Garreau outlined food
sovereignty as “being able to decide what we eat, grow what we want.”128 Similarly, Zach Paige,
who works with the White Earth Land Recovery Project, described food sovereignty as a “form of
freedom because you are able to grow what you like to grow and eat what you like to eat.”129 But
once that level of choice has been made available, others highlighted the need they felt to help people
to want to choose healthy options. Stephanie Berryhill described her line of work with the MFSI as
“on the most basic level, advocating for people to choose healthier foods to eat.”130 Similarly, Segrest
named food sovereignty to be a tool she used in her role as a nutritionist and a “great way of helping
people to understand that food choices are their responsibility and it’s their inherent right to choose
what they want to eat … food sovereignty is a method of making food choices … it’s about helping
people, empowering people to make that choice for themselves.”131
At the same time as some interviewees described food sovereignty as providing choices, Don
Charnon (Oneida) at Tsyunhehkwa described food sovereignty as being supported by the choices
people make:
If you really want to exercise food sovereignty, you need to make decisions toward it. You
need to make decisions toward it, and by making those decisions you support those entities
that grow or make or produce the kind of food that you believe and want in your system, for
your family, for your community. So unless you choose to invest in those food places where
you consider worthy or acceptable or good places to get food, then they’ll disappear.132
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The ability to choose to eat healthy foods needs to be made available to community members, and
then they in turn need to take it upon themselves to make those choices to continue to support these
types of initiatives.
[H2] Control
Part of the issue around independence and access centered on notions of control—by individuals
over what enters their bodies, by tribes over their own food destiny, and the political power
associated with controlling a food system. Several participants recognized the power behind who or
what controls your food source, both currently and historically. As Amos Hinton described in
recounting his tribe’s history of relocations and rations, “If you think about your tribe’s history you
have been controlled for a very long time by food…. If you don’t raise your own food someone else
is controlling your destiny.”133 Diane Wilson (Dakota) integrates this message into the curriculum of
the Dream of Wild Health program; “Part of this cultural recovery process is the idea that you have
control over your own food. One of the things we talk about here is if you want to control people,
control their food.”134 Similarly, Christina Elias, who runs the Mashkiikii Gitigan garden in
Minneapolis, leads discussions in the garden about “controlling people through controlling their food
source … when you’re that far away from your food source you’re being completely controlled. You
have no independence and no power in your life.” She calls attempts at regulating seed libraries
“desperate attempts at controlling us.”135 For Milo Yellowhair (Lakota), it was the realization that
“food can be, and is, used as a weapon,” that led him to get involved in the Slim Buttes Agricultural
Project, in an effort to create an independent food source for his community.136
Indigenous food projects are seeking to shift the locus of control over food towards
individuals as well as tribal communities. This shifting of control was reflected in participants’
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definitions of food sovereignty. On an individual level, for example, Melissa Nelson described the
need for individuals to take responsibility for the control they do have over what goes into their
bodies: “It’s one of the few things as human beings that we actually have absolute control over. We
don’t always have control over what we have access to, but what we put in our mouths we really do.
So to me, food sovereignty at the individual level is how we treat our bodies and our landscapes and
what we put in our bodies, controlling the foods and waters and beverages that we intake.”137 The
sentiments expressed above around being able to “feed oneself” also speaks to the desire for
individual control over food sources.
On a tribal level, participants described food sovereignty as only becoming possible if the
tribe as both a government and a community takes control of their food system. Lilian Hill (Hopi)
from the Hopi Tutskwa Permaculture project, declares “what food sovereignty means is for a tribal
community to have more local ownership or local control over the food system.”138 Cherokee Nation
Secretary of State Chuck Hoskins defined food sovereignty as the tribe taking back control from the
corporate agricultural system: “controlling our own food destiny. It doesn’t have to be charted by
Monsanto, it doesn’t have to be charted by big agriculture. It can be charted by the same folks that
did it generations ago and that’s the Cherokee people.”139 Similarly, Julie Garreau asserted, “Native
people have to say ‘We’re going to control this.’ Tribal governments need to create policies and
legislation that encourages this sort of thing.”140
Part of taking back control of a tribal community’s food system is having jurisdiction over
the habitat that supports those food systems. Bob Shimek explained, “food sovereignty to me is first
of all control where your food comes from. Its control of the type of food that’s grown and produced
there or grows naturally there. It’s control of that habitat that’s on that particular piece of land.”141
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Grace Ann Byrd and Romajean Thomas both described successes of their respective tribes in getting
back land under tribal jurisdiction, which gave them potential to bolster tribal food sovereignty.142
In addition to “controlling” land through political jurisdiction, the topic of protecting and
sustaining land was seen as integral to food sovereignty. Michael Dahl (Ojibway) from White Earth
described how the fight against pipelines that he had been participating in with Honor the Earth was
not just about resisting the pipelines themselves, but a fight to maintain a healthy way of living.
“Right now our rice and our sugar bushes and our berries, our gathering rights, are the main thing
that we still have to our self-sustainability and our healthy living. So we need to protect that with our
lives.”143 Mike Wiggins (Ojibway), who was chairman of the Bad River Tribe at the time of the
interview, described food sovereignty as being “rooted in sustainability and the caring for Mother
Earth.” Part of this for him was not only supporting sustainable gardening projects for the tribe, but
also fighting to protect wild rice beds from a proposed taconite mine.144 Pati Martinson described that
the goal of the Native American Food Sovereignty Alliance (NAFSA) is to help tribes protect
everything related to traditional foods and that people felt that part of NAFSA’s mission should
address “that food needs protection … that is part of sovereignty, a real protection for the seeds, a
protection for the land, a protection for the foods, that’s a common goal that should be able to impact
those policies.”145
Caitlin Krenn, who directs the Nisqually Community Garden project, described food
sovereignty as not just catching and eating traditional foods like fish, “but it means actually trying to
sustain the rivers again, the sound, the ocean,” the environment that supports those fish. This
philosophy extended to farmland as well.146 Gayley Morgan (Tesuque Pueblo) at the Tesuque Pueblo
farm defined food sovereignty in part as “just making sure your lands are worked on and taken care
of. And also the water. And it goes hand-in-hand with the environment too, just the surroundings
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with the environment, the birds and the bugs and the bees, everything plays a part in it. Just as long as
we have a nice, healthy environment here, is also a piece of sustainable farms.”147 The importance of
sustainable farming and maintaining healthy soil came up in a number of conversations about how to
achieve food sovereignty.
[H2] Seeds
Working to restore heritage seed varieties to indigenous garden projects is seen as a primary goal of
many of the projects I visited. Woodrow White (Ho-Chunk) described how “We are trying to restore
and recover our indigenous seeds now. Everybody’s in a scurry. Well, how much do we have left?
Who has them? Let’s get them. Do they still have germinating power? If not, we can share. I mean
your tribe lives 100 miles away but hey, it grows good so we will share what we have left. We need
to bring these seeds back. It’s saving the seed.”148
For Amos Hinton, part of establishing a food sovereignty project for the Ponca tribe was not
just planting food, but reclaiming traditional corn varieties, gathering these varieties from seed
keepers in other states and “bringing them home.”149 The foundation of gardening is seeds, and as
such for many communities having adequate access to their traditional seed varieties is seen as
imperative for food sovereignty. Gardeners felt a connection and obligation to these seeds and the
elders and ancestors to whom these seeds connected them. Roberto Nutlouis described that “our
work is not because of federal policies or tribal policies, it’s because of our deeper connections to our
lands, to the seeds that we have, that our elders passed on to us, that those have to continue.”150
The concerns about “control” over aspects of the food system expressed above also extended to
seed sources and a community’s ability to protect heritage seeds from multinational corporations as
well as ensure a constant supply of seed for gardens. Regaining “control of our food system” was
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seen to begin with control over seed sources. Stephanie Berryhill describes how her Mvskoke Creek
community has “definitely lost control of traditional plants,” like the corn to make sofkey, which is
now only provided to the community by a non-Native company. She spoke about the importance of
“regaining control of our food system, and specifically seed sources,” so they are not reliant on the
vagaries of the market for one of their traditional foods.151 Similarly, Angelo McHorse (Taos Pueblo)
described that if you can keep your seed from one year to the next “well then, you have a sovereign
source. Food sovereignty, you control it.”152
Sociologist Jack Kloppenburg has declared, “If there is to be food sovereignty, surely it will be
facilitated and enabled by a struggle for seed sovereignty,”153 a term that arose during several of the
interviews I conducted. Indigenous control over seeds comprised an integral part of the definition of
seed sovereignty provided by two of the seed keepers I interviewed. Rowen White (Mohawk) directs
the Sierra Seeds cooperative, currently serves as the chair of the board for Seed Savers Exchange,
and is heading up an initiative to further develop indigenous seed keeping networks among
Haudenosaunee communities, as well as across the Upper Midwest. Seeds are her life. As we sat in
the shade by one of her fields in July of 2014, I asked her to define “seed sovereignty,” a word that
she used frequently to describe the foundation of her own work, as well as the foundation of food
sovereignty more generally. She replied,
Seed sovereignty is to me when you have an understanding of your inherent right to
save seed and pass it on to future generations, and that you are exercising it at that same
time. It also means that you as a person or as a community are self-informed and dictate
your relationship to seed; that says that these are seeds that really do not belong to
anyone. They belong to us as a community in the commons but that we can define our
relationship to that seed based upon our own values and not the values of anyone else
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outside of our community.... seed sovereignty, at the heart, is really just taking back the
action of saving seed and keeping it again year after year, generation after generation,
so that we can have the security of knowing that we have seeds that will feed our
children and our grandchildren. That we have the means by which to feed our people
instead of relying on external sources.... we can take care of ourselves, that we can sort
of get back to the way it was before colonization, that we can have some sort of control
or say of what foods we are able to put on our table and what foods are available for
people to have access to in our communities.154
How to protect what they saw as both living relatives and community intellectual
property from tampering with or patenting by multinational corporations was a major concern
expressed by participants working with heritage seeds. Like Rowen White, Clayton Brascoupe
(Mohawk) has not only been working with heritage seeds, but also promotes ideas of seed
sovereignty across Indian country. Brascoupe relocated to his wife’s community of Tesuque
Pueblo four decades ago and has coordinated the Traditional Native American Farmers
Association for over twenty years. As we sat at his kitchen table, surrounded by ears of corn
and piles of beans from his gardens, I also asked him to define what seed sovereignty meant
to him. His definition also centered on relationships with seed, as well as control over seed:
[W]e refer to these as our living relatives. So, we have to have control and ability to
protect our living relatives. That’s what seed sovereignty means to me. So they can’t be
molested, contaminated, or imprisoned. When I say imprisoned, I mean perhaps
someone will say “this is some interesting stuff,” and they grow it up for a few years
and all of the sudden they say they own it. That-- the protection of our living relative, if
not, then somebody else may say they own it. They’re imprisoned and you can’t go visit
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and plant your relative. Also, if you have the ability to interact with your relatives
through these seeds, you also have the ability to feed yourself well.155
The need to protect seeds from multinational corporations was framed in two ways: as
cultural intellectual property that belonged to the entire community and all of the ancestors whose
gardens had contributed to the current seed stock; and as living relatives who needed to be treated as
such and protected. As Kloppenburg notes, the very nature of property is called into question when
indigenous people reject the very notion of “owning” seeds, which they may see as “antagonistic
towards social relations founded on cooperative, collective, multigenerational forms of knowledge
production.”156 Reflecting on her interviews with both the staff of ex situ seed banks and participants
in situ indigenous seed-saving projects, Sheryl D. Breen describes the difference between the
perception of seeds as discrete material objects—“active storage containers of genetic material,” as
opposed to viewing “seeds as responsive beings that are inherently embedded within ecological and
spiritual webs of kinship,” which highlights an important epistemological difference between the two
parties in negotiating the political problems of seeds as property.157 As seen above in Clayton’s
definition, seeds are thought of as “living relatives” rather than property, relatives that shouldn’t be
“molested, contaminated or imprisoned.” Seeds are described almost as intergenerational relatives—
both as children that need nurturing and protecting, and as grandparents who contain cultural wisdom
that needs guarding.
Even though genetic modification and patenting were opposed for slightly different reasons,
they are traced to the same common enemy—multinational agriculture corporations—and Monsanto
specifically. Lilian Hill (Hopi) insisted that tribal governments need to “take up these issues of food
sovereignty” and work to “protect our crops against genetically modified organism or other
corporations that want to come in and patent our food crops and heirloom types of corn and things
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like that.”158 Rowen White described how when she does seed workshops in Native communities “it
is the one thing that people want to talk about, ‘well, how are you going to protect our seeds from
Monsanto,’ or ‘how are we going to protect our seeds from patenting?’ There’s no clear answer.”159
In short, protecting seeds from modification and patenting, and ensuring access to them for
community members interested in farming were seen as integral to seed sovereignty, and thus food
sovereignty.
[H2] Education and Youth
Although the role of education in these programs—both in promoting the movement and in
improving health-related statistics—is important, education has not been extensively highlighted in
the broader food sovereignty literature. In reflecting on the work of the Cheyenne River Youth
Project, Julie Garreau focused on the need to educate the youth as a solution for health issues: “we
just need to change our diet. We just do. And we need to teach our kids now.” She went on to detail
how part of that will entail teaching people how to garden and preserve food.160
People in this movement are hungry for education and knowledge as well as the food being
produced. As Valerie Segrest described to an audience at the Native American Culinary Association
conference in the fall of 2013, “what this food sovereignty movement is hungry for is to remember
the plants, our foods, the teachings. To share those memories with people, to be active in our food
systems, to get your hands in the dirt. Get your head out of a book and focus on the lessons and
blessings you’re receiving.”161 At a subsequent Food Sovereignty Summit hosted by the Oneida
Nation of Wisconsin, Segrest reiterated, “Food is our greatest teacher, without a spoken word.” She
highlighted that “loss of land, loss of rights, environmental toxins and cultural repression impede our
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ability to access millions of fishing teachings,” as well as those from cedar trees and other natural
elements.162
Education is seen as not just a goal, but also a responsibility. Roberto Nutlouis, who directs a
farm project through the Blackwater Mesa Coalition, explains that “we have the responsibility to
share that information with the community, and that’s part of our community outreach.”163 Jeff
Metoxen from Tsyunhehkwa described how the purpose of food sovereignty is “to share that
information with your community It’s to ensure that the generations to come know this and are
learning it … I feel I’ve never stopped learning. I don’t know everything there is to do with the white
corn; I don’t know everything there is to do for the white corn, but we’re learning. And we’re trying
to make sure we share that knowledge with our community members, especially with the youth, and
hopefully you can instill in them some pursuit of the knowledge.”164
Kenny Perkins (Mohawk) noted that the apprentices that he’s teaching through the cultural
restoration program are now able to go on to teach others. This is how food sovereignty and cultural
restoration will be linked for the community, “the apprentices that we have now are able to go out
and teach in the [Mohawk] language especially. They can go to the immersion school, the Freedom
School, and teach everything there is to know about horticulture traditionally, culturally, and the new
techniques and the modern ways of gardening, and be able to do it all in the [Mohawk] language.”165
Several of the projects recognized that the purpose of, and main contribution of, their project
to the community was not necessarily in the ability to feed everyone, but through their ability to
educate people about how to eat well and grow their own food. For example, on a tour of the
Nisqually Community Garden project, Grace Ann Byrd (Nisqually) described the farm’s mission as
“providing education, providing food, as well as nutrition.”166 Similarly, Don Charnon (Oneida)
described one of the purposes of Tsyunhehkwa is “to be an example or a resource for people who
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want to grow things.”167 Cassius Spears Sr, (Narragansett) who is working with his family to
establish a community farm for the Narragansett Tribe, lamented that “a lot of the youth don’t even
realize where the food comes from anymore, and the elders are getting separated from working in the
soil.” His goal is to bring these two groups together so that the elders can “start to teach and work
with the youth again and bring out some of them old ways and old reasons.”168
As demonstrated above, the youth are the target audience of many of these food sovereignty
projects. People often spoke of “the future generations” that would need to benefit from healthy
eating and saved seeds, as well as the youth they were working with who were natural audiences for
this information, and who were going to be responsible for carrying it forward to those future
generations. After hosting a boisterous group of about a dozen students from the tribal summer
program, who had grazed their way through the bean patch and the apple trees, as well as through the
wild grapes covering the fence row, Woodrow White (Ho-Chunk) from the Whirling Thunder farm
project noted that kids seem naturally inclined to want to eat well and work outside. “They naturally
would like to do it anyway, they just need the place and the teachers and they will take off.”169
Similarly, Romajean Thomas highlighted the natural inclination of youth to want to be
involved, and the importance of including them in food gathering programs. “The youth just pick it
up naturally, they’re ready to get out there, they’re not afraid of hard work. And they’re not afraid to
eat right out of the environment!... So any way that we can continue to involve the youth and have
them teaching the younger generations and get it back in the classroom.”170
Education is an important part of the sustainability of these projects. Amos Hinton, former
director of the agricultural program for the Ponca Tribe, described to the Food Sovereignty Summit
at Oneida in 2013, “If we don’t educate our children we’re not going to have anything. They’ll be no
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one to carry it on.” With this in mind, many of these indigenous food sovereignty projects have
targeted youth as the focus of their work.
[H2] Food Sovereignty as a Movement
As well as being seen as a goal for projects and communities— to become food sovereign— several
participants described food sovereignty as a broader movement, one that was both far reaching and
gaining traction in their own communities. Melissa Nelson (Turtle Mountain Chippewa) described
the “movement-building” aspect of food sovereignty, which has “many dimensions from the very
person to the expansive political legislation.”171 On a local level, participants described a gradual
readiness for this movement in their communities. In reflecting on how work around different aspects
of food and health have coalesced for him recently, Ken Parker (Seneca) asserted, “I think people are
ready for this now. It seems like it’s always been there, but now it’s a bigger movement.”172 Roberto
Nutlouis described his observation that “the Native food movement is penetrating into the
communities. People are more aware about it now.” He went on to describe campaigns that the Black
Mesa Water Coalition had sponsored around GMOs and traditional foods, and the way their
organization focused on “continued community outreach. And just pushed the knowledge out there
into the communities.”173 In contrast to “the food movement” which Segrest labeled as being “a little
bit elitist,” she described that for her own community and others she had worked with, “what this
food sovereignty movement is hungry for is to remember the plants, our foods, the teachings.”174
Seed keeper Rowen White described her experiences “working in the last over-a-decade in
the food sovereignty movement within Indian country,” including with the “seed sovereignty
movement” that “rose within our communities.” This type of work was also encapsulated in Zach
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Paige’s description of indigenous seed alliances and a “network of growers” that is currently coming
together to share seed and information, and to support each other.
People who promote these projects also find community in the movement, in coming
together for food sovereignty conferences and events. Julie Garreau proclaimed excitedly, “The
movement is growing.” She described the interconnected tribal projects, the likeminded people who
meet up at food sovereignty summits “the movement nationally…it’s a small community but it’s all
over the nation.” In addition to supporting the groundswell in their own communities, many of these
participants recognized themselves as a broader indigenous movement.
[H2] Food Sovereignty as a Process and a Method
In addition to comprising a movement, many of the participants I spoke with described food
sovereignty as a goal with an extensive timeline, a process or a method, rather than a solidly defined
destination that they could arrive at. Chuck Hoskins, in reflecting on food issues for the Cherokee
Nation proclaimed, “Look, we didn’t get here in a generation. It took many. We didn’t get her
overnight, so it won’t be fixed overnight.” Similarly, several other projects described food
sovereignty as a goal. Alan Bacock from the Big Pine Paiute Tribe in California described food
sovereignty as “a goal worth striving for. It’s a vision that I would like to see develop, but it’s not
going to happen overnight, it’s not going to happen in a year, in two years. It’s going to take a long
time to develop.”
Jeff Metoxen detailed how at Tsyunhehkwa the process of working towards food sovereignty
is a never-ending learning process focused on indigenous language, practices, and culture, in addition
to basic knowledge about growing plants. “With food sovereignty pursuits, you’re learning more
about your own culture … It’s to share that information with your community. It’s to ensure that the
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generations to come know this and are learning it as well. That’s a big part. I look at that never-
ending process you are going through. I feel I’ve never stopped learning … we’re pursuing our food
security. We’re always pursuing our food sovereignty.”175
On the other hand, rather than describing it as a goal or a process, Valerie Segrest reasoned to
an audience at the 2013 Native American Culinary Association conference that “food sovereignty is
a method, getting to a place of decolonizing our diets, revitalizing our traditional food culture.”176 In
her 2014 interview she further pondered, “what does food sovereignty look like? I don’t think it
looks like anything. I think it’s just a way of living and making food choices.” She describes food
sovereignty as another tool, another lens through which she can work as an educator, nutritionist, and
community member.177
[H1] Limits and Conclusion
This article has discussed perceptions of indigenous food sovereignty as described by participants in
community-based farming and gardening projects that serve Native American communities. Two
limitations of this particular sample for application to the broader indigenous food sovereignty
movement should be noted. The first is that although some of this study’s participants also engage in
other types of food-procurement activities (i.e., foraging, hunting, and fishing), this project is
specifically focused on farming and gardening projects. The indigenous food sovereignty movement
is also very focused on ensuring access to treaty-guaranteed fishing, gathering, and hunting sites, as
well as the protection and utilization of traditional knowledge related to these activities, and in some
places has been critical of a version of food sovereignty they view as agriculture-centric.178 This is
due in part to the fact that while horticulture is seen as a traditional activity for some tribal
communities--such as the Mohawk, Seneca, Navajo, Ponca, and Pueblo communities featured here--
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for other tribal nations, agriculture was an activity introduced as part of colonial oppression,
deliberately intended to remove Native nations even farther from their traditional food procurement
activities.179 And for some of these communities who include horticulture as a means to their
traditional foods, culturally-specific horticulture was forcibly replaced by federal government
programs aimed towards encouraging a more Western form of irrigated, mono-cropped
agriculture.180 That said, in an effort in some communities to celebrate their horticultural heritage,
and in others to most efficiently use available tribal land, farming and gardening are tools that have
been employed to work towards food sovereignty.
A second limitation of this project is that the participants included worked only in
community-based projects, most of which have official nonprofit status or operate as such. I did not
meet with individual farmers and ranchers who are producing food for an individual profit. Dan
Cornelius (Oneida) of the Intertribal Agriculture Council works to connect Native farmers and
ranchers with USDA government programs in an effort to bolster overall food production for tribal
communities. He asserts,
The individual producer is so overlooked in the current food sovereignty movement. These
[community] programs are critical to helping provide support but we need to get more
individuals and families back into production. Look at the number of producers (nearly
72,000) and sales ($3.2 billion) and casino food service—about $4.5 billion. Sure, a $40,000
grant can help run a community garden for a year and can make an impact in how
communities think about food, but true rebuilding of our food systems requires thinking
about supporting individual and family production on landscape levels.181
A more comprehensive examination of food sovereignty among Native American farmers will need
to include the voices of individual for-profit farmers as well.
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[H1] Defining Sovereignty: It’s a Process. That Requires Food.
Anishnaabe legal scholar Heidi Kiiwetinepinesiik Stark has asserted that
because sovereignty is “intangible” and an inherent “dynamic cultural force,” it is crucial that
indigenous peoples define for themselves a vision of their own nationhood and sovereignty,
as well as the practical implications that come with this term. By looking to their own
epistemologies and practices, Native peoples can put forward definitions of sovereignty that
are distinct from United States legal and political definitions of Native nations status that
have operated to diminish Native sovereignty and self-government.182
She describes sovereignty as “deeply intertwined with a nation’s sense of self,” and constantly
undergoing transformation to meet the needs of the people of these nations. Rather than limiting
sovereignty to “its restrictive legal-political context,” she calls on us to see sovereignty “as a process,
or a journey.” Citing Vine Deloria Jr’s proclaimation that “Sovereignty is a useful word to describe
the process of growth and awareness that characterizes a group of people working toward and
achieving maturity,”183 she concludes that it is through this connection to identity and self that
“sovereignty becomes a process rather than a stagnant notion.”184 Cobb similarly describes the
importance of thinking about sovereignty as a process rather than a final achievement: “By casting
sovereignty not only in terms of process, but more particularly in narrative terms, sovereignty
becomes the ongoing story of ourselves—our own continuance. Sovereignty is both the story or
journey itself and what we journey towards, which is our own flourishing as self-determining
peoples.”185
As described above, many study participants recognized food sovereignty not only as a
movement, but also as a process, a method, and a goal. But for many of them, working towards food
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sovereignty was an important part of becoming truly sovereign nations in a broader sense as well.
For example, despite Winona LaDuke’s criticisms of the term discussed earlier in this article, at
almost every food-related event I have heard her speak at she has reiterated that “you can’t say
you’re sovereign if you can’t feed yourself.” Several of the participants repeated this aphorism to me
and some elaborated upon it as a stipulation. Food sovereignty was seen either as a marker of
achieved tribal sovereignty (as Jeremy McClain from the Bad River Gitiganag project described, “an
ability to feed yourself is a marker of true sovereignty”),186 or as a necessary prerequisite towards
which tribes should work before they can claim being sovereign. As Alan Bacock (Paiute) explained,
“I would say that you can’t be sovereign if you can’t feed yourself …When we begin to use it
(traditional food knowledge) again, we begin to then develop sovereignty once more. Because I don’t
believe that you can have that sense of sovereignty without that food connection.”187 And as Clayton
Harvey (Apache) from the White Mountain Apache Ndée Bikíyaa project described, food production
is central to the identity of Native nations; “I think about sovereignty and I think about being Native
American, and being who you are, and that’s growing your own food.”188 Rowen White concludes,
“when we are able to control our food sources and really able to dictate our seed and our food, we
have a greater sense of sovereignty as a whole.”189
When asked to define or describe the concept of food sovereignty, participants from Native
American community and farming projects across the United States highlighted a number of features
included by the broader food sovereignty movement: the importance of access to healthy culturally
relevant food, land, and information; independence for individuals to make choices on their own
consumption and for communities to define their own food systems; and desire to keep food dollars
within the community. Some aspects of participants’ definitions grew specifically out of their own
history with the land and the colonial entities that had impacted their communities. Participants
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described the importance of tribes having the independence and control to provide the foods they see
appropriate, grown in a manner that is deemed acceptable for their constituents. Relationships to the
environment, food sources, and other people were highlighted, including trade relationships. The
ability to sustain the land, as well as cultural lifestyles, was emphasized, and the ability to protect
seeds as the living relatives necessary for the continuation of the food sovereignty movement. The
importance of education, and working with Native youth was also mentioned as a specific antidote to
addressing culture loss and the ensuing health problems that have made indigenous communities the
subject of so many public health studies.
As Whyte has pointed out, “concepts of food sovereignty can come across as so many
impossible ideals of community food self-sufficiency and cultural autonomy.”190 Importantly,
however, this study’s participants viewed food sovereignty not as an absolute that can be achieved or
lost, but rather a movement that is carrying these projects towards their goals; a process that
participants expect to be undertaking for a great deal of time; and a framework through which
they are working towards improved physical, cultural, and economic health.
Acknowledgments
This project was sponsored by a Salomon Grant from Brown University. I was accompanied during a
majority of this trip by filmmaker Angelo Baca (Navajo/Hopi), who is in the process of creating a
documentary about the indigenous food movement from footage collected on this trip. I want to
especially acknowledge Jeff Metoxen (Oneida), and Stephanie Berryhill (Mvskoke Creek) who are
no longer with us, but whose words have been important to this project.
Notes
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1
For more information about Tsyunhehkwa, visit
https://gardenwarriorsgoodseeds.com/2015/01/19/tsyunhehkw-oneida-nation-wisconsin/ or their
Facebook website, https://www.facebook.com/tsyunhehkwa/.
2
This origin story of the term food sovereignty is cited in many places, including La Via
Campesina’s website; see https://viacampesina.org/en/food-sovereignty/.
3
“Declaration of Nyeleni,” February 2, 2007, Selingue, Mali, http://nyeleni.org/spip.php?article290.
4
Ibid.
5
Bina Agarwal, “Food Sovereignty, Food Security and Democratic Choice: Critical Contradictions,
Difficult Conciliations,” The Journal of Peasant Studies 41, no. 6 (2014): 1247–68,
https://doi.org/10.1080/03066150.2013.876996.
6
United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization 2001, cited in Hannah Wittman, Annette
Aurélie Desmarais, and Nettie Wiehe, “The Origins and Potential of Food Sovereignty,” in Food
Sovereignty: Reconnecting Food, Nature and Community, ed. Hannah Wittman, Annette Aurélie
Desmarais, and Nettie Wiehe (Halifax: Fernwood Publishing, 2010), 1–14.
7
Michael Menser, “The Territory of Self-Determination: Social Reproduction, Agroecology, and
the Role of the State,” in Globalization and Food Sovereignty: Global and Local Change in New
Politics of Food, ed. Jeffrey McKelvey Ayres, Peter Andree, Michael J Bosia, and Marie-Josee
Massicotte (University of Toronto Press, 2014), 53–83; Wittman, et al., “The Origins and
Potential.”
8
Tabitha Martens, Jaime Cidro, Michale Anthony Hart, and Stephane McLachlan,
“Understanding Indigenous Food Sovereignty through an Indigenous Research Paradigm,”
Journal of Indigenous Social Development 5, no. 1 (2016): 18–37.
9
Menser, “The Territory of Self-Determination,” 59.
10
Priscilla Claeys, “Food Sovereignty and the Recognition of New Rights for Peasants at the UN: A
Critical Overview of La Via Campesina’s Rights Claims over the Last 20 Years,” Globalizations 12,
no. 4 (2015): 452–65, https://doi.org/10.1080/14747731.2014.957929.
11
Wittman, et al., “The Origins and Potential.”
12
Menser, “The Territory of Self-Determination,” 53.
13
Ibid.
14
Madeleine Fairbairn, “Framing Resistance; International Food Regimes and the Roots of Food
Sovereignty,” in Food Sovereignty: Reconnecting Food, Nature and Community, 15–32, 31.
52
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
15
Philip McMichael, “Food Sovereignty in Movement: Addressing the Triple Crisis,” in Food
Sovereignty: Reconnecting Food, Nature and Community, 168–85.
16
Raj Patel, “What Does Food Sovereignty Look Like?” in Food Sovereignty: Reconnecting
Food, Nature and Community, 186–95; Meleiza Figueroa, “Food Sovereignty in Everyday Life:
Toward a People-centered Approach to Food Systems,” Globalizations 12, no. 4 (2015): 498–
512.
17
Annette Aurélie Desmarais and Hannah Wittman, “Farmers, Foodies and First Nations:
Getting to Food Sovereignty in Canada,” The Journal of Peasant Studies 41, no. 6 (2014): 1153–
73, 1155, https://doi.org/10.1080/03066150.2013.876623.
18
See Wittman, et al., “The Origins and Potential”; Figueroa, “Food Sovereignty in Everyday
Life”; Fairbairn, “Framing Resistance.”
19
Asfia Gulrukh Kamal, Rene Linklater, Shirley Thompson, Joseph Dipple, and Ithinto
Mechisowin Committee, “A Recipe for Change: Reclamation of Indigenous Food Sovereignty in
O-Pipon-Na-Piwin Cree Nation for Decolonization, Resource Sharing, and Cultural
Restoration,” Globalizations 12, no. 4 (2015): 559–75, 564.
20
Claeys, “Food Sovereignty and the Recognition of New Rights,” 453.
21
Kamal, et al., “A Recipe for Change,”
22
Jeff Corntassel, “Toward Sustainable Self-Determination: Rethinking the Contemporary
Indigenous-Rights Discourse,” Alternatives 33 (2008): 105–32.
23
Judith Ehlert and Christiane Voßemer, “Food Sovereignty and Conceptualization of Agency: A
Methodological Discussion,” Austrian Journal of South-East Asian Studies 8, no. 1 (2015): 7–26,
9.
24
Ibid.
Amy Trauger, “Putting Food Sovereignty in Place,” in Food Sovereignty in International
25
Context: Discourse, Politics and Practice of Place, ed. Amy Trauger (London and New York:
Routledge, 2015), 1–12, 5.
26
Sam Grey and Raj Patel, “Food Sovereignty as Decolonization: Some Contributions from
Indigenous Movements to Food System and Development Politics,” Agriculture and Human
Values 32, no. 3 (2015): 431–44, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10460-014-9548-9.
27
Ibid., 434.
28
See Figueroa, “Food Sovereignty in Everyday Life,”
53
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
29
The Cherokee Nation v. The State of Georgia, 30 U.S. 1 (1831).
30
Kyle Powys White, “Food Sovereignty, Justice and Indigenous Peoples: An Essay on Settler
Colonialism and Collective Continuance,” in Oxford Handbook of Food Ethics, ed. Anne
Barnhill, Tyler Doggett, and Mark Budolfson (Oxford University Press, 2018), 345-36, 346.
31
Ibid., 348.
32
For example, see the description of Sullivan’s campaign against the Haudenosaunee in Jane Mt.
Pleasant, “The Paradox of Plows and Productivity: An Agronomic Comparison of Cereal Grain
Production under Iroquois Hoe Culture and European Plow Culture,” Agricultural History 85, no. 4
(2011): 460–92; and in the nineteenth century, see the stories collected and recorded by the Diné of
the Eastern Region of the Navajo Reservation, Title VII bilingual staff, Oral Histories of the Long
Walk = Hwéeldi Baa Hané (Crown Point, NM: Lake Valley Navajo School, 1990).
33
Nicholas James Reo and Angela K. Parker, “Re-thinking Colonialism to Prepare for the Impacts of
Rapid Environmental Change,” Climatic Change 120 (2013): 671–82.
34
Karla Rae Rudolph and Stephane M. McLachlan, “Seeking Indigenous Food Sovereignty:
Origins of and Responses to the Food Crisis in Northern Manitoba Canada,” Local Environment
18, no. 9 (2013): 1079–98, 1082.
35
Charlotte Coté, “‘Indigenizing’ Food Sovereignty: Revitalizing Indigenous Food Practices and
Ecological Knowledges in Canada and the United States,” Humanities 5, no. 3 (2016): 57,
https://doi.org/10.3390/h5030057.
36
Jennifer Bess, “More Than a Food Fight: Intellectual Traditions and Cultural Continuity in
Cholocco’s Indian School Journal 1902–1918,” The American Indian Quarterly 37, nos. 1–2 (2013):
77–110.
37
Valarie Blue Bird Jernigan, “Addressing Food Security and Food Sovereignty in Native
American Communities,” in Health and Social Issues of Native American Women, ed. Jennie Joe
and Francine Gachupin (Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2012), 113–32.
Richard White and William Cronon, “Ecological Change and Indian-White Relations,” in
38
Handbook of the North American Indian, Vol. 4, History of Indian-White Relations, ed. Wilcomb E.
Washburn (Washington, DC: Smithsonian, 1988), 417–29.
39
Elizabeth Hoover, “Cultural and Health Implications of Fish Advisories in a Native American
Community,” Ecological Processes 2, no. 4 (2013): np, https://doi.org/10.1186/2192-1709-2-4;
Laurence M Hauptman. In the Shadow of Kinzua; the Seneca Nation of Indians Since WWII.
(Syracuse NY: Syracuse University Press, 2013).
40
Kari Marie Norgaard, Ron Reed, and Carolina Van Horn, “A Continuing Legacy: Institutional
Racism, Hunger, and Nutritional Justice on the Klamath,” in Cultivating Food Justice: Race, Class,
54
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
and Sustainability, ed. Alison Hope Alkon and Julian Agyeman (Boston: Massachusetts Institute of
Technology Press, 2011), 23–46.
41
Elizabeth Hoover, The River Is in Us: Fighting Toxics in a Mohawk Community (Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 2017).
42
Jamie L. Donatuto, Terre A. Satterfield, and Robin Gregory, “Poisoning the Body to Nourish the
Soul: Prioritizing Health Risks and Impacts in a Native American Community,” Health, Risk and
Society 13, no. 2 (2011): 103–27, https://doi.org/10.1080/13698575.2011.556186.
43
Pamela K. Miller, Viola Waghiyi, Gretchen Welfinger-Smith, Samuel Carter Byrne, Jane Kava,
Jesse Gologergen, Lorraine Eckstein, Ronald Scrudato, Jeff Chiarenzelli, David O. Carpenter, and
Samarys Seguinot-Medina, “Community-Based Participatory Research Projects and Policy
Engagement to Protect Environmental Health on St. Lawrence Island, Alaska,” International Journal
of Circumpolar Health 72, no. 1 (2013), https://doi.org/10.3402/ijch.v72i0.21656.
44
Bob Weinhold, “Climate Change and Health: A Native American Perspective,” Environmental
Health Perspectives 118, no. 2 (2010): A64–A65; Kathy Lynn, John Daigle, Jennie Hoffman, Frank
Lake, Natalie Michelle, Darren Ranco, Carson Viles, Garrit Voggesser, and Paul Williams, “The
Impacts of Climate Change on Tribal Traditional Foods,” Climate Change 120, no. 3 (2013): 545–
56, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10584-013-0736-1.
45
Dennis Wiedman, “Native American Embodiment of the Chronicities of Modernity,” Medical
Anthropology Quarterly 26, no. 4 (2012): 595–612, https://doi.org/10.1111/maq.12009.
46
United States Department of Agriculture Food and Nutrition Service, “Food Distribution Program
on Indian Reservations,” 2015, www.fns.usda.gov/fdpir/food-distribution-program-indian-
reservations-fdpir.
47
Email correspondence between the author and Joe VanAlstine, president of NAFDPIR National
Association of Food Distribution Program on Indian Reservations, January 2, 2017.
48
Rachel M. Gurney, Beth Schaefer Caniglia, Tamara L. Mix, and Kristen A. Baum, “Native
American Food Security and Traditional Foods: A Review of the Literature,” Sociology Compass 9,
no. 8 (2015): 681–93, https://doi.org/10.1111/soc4.12284.
49
United States Department of Agriculture Food and Nutrition Service, “Addressing Child Hunger
and Obesity in Indian Country: Report to Congress,” (January 2, 2012):5. https://fns-
prod.azureedge.net/sites/default/files/IndianCountry.pdf.
50
Ibid.,vi.
51
Wiedman, “Native American Embodiment,” 597.
52
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, “National Diabetes Fact Sheet, 2011,”
https://www.cdc.gov/diabetes/pubs/pdf/ndfs_2011.pdf.
55
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
53
Kyle Powys Whyte, “Justice Forward: Tribes, Climate Adaptation and Responsibility in Indian
Country,” Climatic Change 120, no. 3 (2013): 517–530, 518, https://doi.org/10.1007/s10584-013-
0743-2.
54
Tristan Reader and Teroll Dew Johnson, “Tohono O’odham Himdag and Agri/Culture,” in
Religion and Sustainable Agriculture: World Spiritual Traditions and Food Ethics, ed. Todd
LeVasseur, Pramod Parajuli, and Norman Wirzba (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press,
2016), 315–336, 329.
55
Winona LaDuke interview, White Earth Reservation, August 29, 2014.
56
Taiaiake Alfred, “Sovereignty,” in A Companion to American Indian History, ed. Phililp Deloria
and Neil Salisbury (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2002), 460–74.
57
Joanne Barker, “For Whom Sovereignty Matters,” in Sovereignty Matters, ed. Joanne Barker
(Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2005), 1–50.
58
Heidi Kiiwetinepinesiik Stark, “Nenabozho’s Smart Berries: Rethinking Tribal Sovereignty
and Accountability,” Michigan State Law Review 339: 339–54; Amanda Cobb, “Understanding
Tribal Sovereignty: Definitions, Conceptualizations, and Interpretations,” American Studies 46,
nos. 3/4 (2005): 115–32.
59
Jessica Cattelino, “The Double Bind of American Indian Need-Based Sovereignty,” Cultural
Anthropology 25, no. 2 (2010): 235–62, https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1548-1360.2010.01058.x.
Jace Weaver, “Indigenousness and Indignity,” in A Companion to Postcolonial Studies, ed.
60
Henry Schwarz and Saengeeta Ray (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2000), 221–35, 232.
61 Vine Deloria Jr., “Intellectual Self-Determination and Sovereignty: Looking at the Windmills in
Our Minds,” Wicazo Sa Review 13, no. 1 (1998): 25–31, 27, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1409027.
62
Cobb, “Understanding Tribal Sovereignty,” 121.
63
Ibid., 122.
64
The terms “scholar” and “activist” (as well as “community member”) are not meant to be mutually
exclusive; an actor could ascribe to multiple designations, or all of these.
65
Desmarais and Wittman, “Farmers, Foodies and First Nations,” 1154–55.
66
Martens, et al., “Understanding Indigenous Food Sovereignty,” 21.
67
Dawn Morrison, “Indigenous Food Sovereignty: A Model for Social Learning,” in Food
Sovereignty in Canada: Creating Just and Sustainable Food Systems, ed. Hannah Wittman,
56
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
Annette Aurélie Desmarais, and Nettie Wiebe (Halifax: Fernwood Publishing, 2011), 97–113.
68
Kyle Powys Whyte, “Food Justice and Collective Food Relations,” in Food, Ethics, and
Society: An Introductory Text with Readings, ed. Anne Barnhill, Mark Budolfson, and Tyler
Doggett (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 122-134, 126.
69
Rudolph and McLachlan, “Seeking Indigenous Food Sovereignty,” 1081.
70
(Raster and Hill 2017:268) Raster, Amanda and Christina Gish Hill. 2017. “The dispute over
wild rice; an investigation of treaty agreements and Ojibwa food sovereignty.” Agriculture and
Human Values 34:267–281.
71
Morrison, “Indigenous Food Sovereignty: A Model.”
72
Ibid.
73
Kamal, et al., “A Recipe for Change,” 565.
74
Cobb, “Understanding Tribal Sovereignty.”
75
Kamal, et al., “A Recipe for Change,”
76
Morrison, “Indigenous Food Sovereignty: A Model.” Morrison also cites the Working Group
on Indigenous Food Sovereignty in her essay.
77
Hoover, The River Is in Us.
78
I am labeling as “interviews” the sessions during which I sat down with a participant with an
interview protocol and asked a standard series of questions, although these sessions were often
guided by the participants and their interests as well. In contrast, during what I label “conversations”
and “farm tours,” with the participants’ permission I kept on my audio recorder while walking
around their farms and gardens. These conversations frequently included multiple people and the
topics were primarily guided by the landscape and the project at hand. All participants of
“interviews” as well as “conversations” signed an informed consent asking if they wanted to be
named or have their information remain confidential.
79
NVivo is software that helps analyze qualitative data by providing the framework to organize and
sort interview information into different coded categories established by the researcher.
80
See gardenwarriorsgoodseeds.com to view the blog posts.
81
Julie Garreau interview, Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, SD, August 1, 2014.
82
George Toya interview, Nambé Pueblo, NM, June 10, 2014.
57
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
83
Kenny Perkins interview, Akwesasne Mohawk Reservation, September 5, 2014.
84
Valerie Segrest, presentation at the Native American Culinary Association Conference, Desert
Sonoran Museum, Tucson, AZ, November, 2013. For conference information see
http://apachesinthekitchen.blogspot.com/2013/11/nacas-2013-indigenous-food-symposium.html.
85
Valerie Segrest interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
86
Diane Wilson interview, Dream of Wild Health farm, Hugo, MN, August 14, 2014.
87
Personal communications with Dream of Wild Health staff, Hugo, MN, March 6 2015.
88
Scott Shoemaker interview, Science Museum of Minnesota, St. Paul, August 29, 2014.
89
Ibid.; and personal communications with members of the Indigenous Seed Keepers Network 2014-
2017, especially at the Indigenous Farming Conference hosted by the White Earth Land Recovery
Project in Minnesota, which includes panels and sessions by Indigenous Seed Keepers Network
members every year.
90
Tom Cook interview, Akwesasne Mohawk Reservation, September 8, 2014.
91
Roberto Nutlouis interview, Pinon, AZ, July 10, 2014.
92
Romajean Thomas interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
93
Bob Shimek interview, White Earth Reservation, MN, August 5, 2014.
94
Cassius Spears Sr. interview, Westerly RI, April 30 2016
95
Valerie Segrest, presentation, Food Sovereignty Summit, Green Bay, WI, April 16, 2014. For full
agenda, see
https://firstnations.org/sites/default/files/conferences/2014/documents/2014_Ag_Summit_4_7_2014.
pdf.
96
Alan Bacock interview, Big Pine, CA, July 14, 2014.
97
Jeremy McClain interview, Bad River Reservation, WI, August 18, 2014.
98
Lannesse Baker interview, Minneapolis, MN, August 13, 2014.
99
Terrol Dew Johnson interview, Sells, AZ, June 30, 2014; see also Reader and Johnson, “Tohono
O’odham Himdag and Agri/Culture.”
100
Mariaelena Huambachano, “Food Security and Indigenous Peoples Knowledge: El Buen Vivir-
Sumaq Kawsay in Peru and Tē Atānoho, New Zealand, Māori-New Zealand,” Food Studies 5, no. 3
(2015): 33–47, 40, 42, https://doi.org/10.18848/2160-1933/CGP/v05i03/40505.
58
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
101
Winona LaDuke interview, White Earth Reservation, MN, August 29, 2014.
102
Bob Shimek interview, White Earth Reservation, MN, August 5, 2014.
103
Amos Hinton interview, Ponca City, OK, June 6, 2014.
104
Winona LaDuke has described this survey during a number of her presentations at events like the
Indigenous Farming Conference held every year at White Earth in March, as well as during a TED
talk discussed at https://www.mnn.com/leaderboard/stories/why-winona-laduke-is-fighting-for-food-
sovereignty
105
Stephanie Berryhill interview, Okmulgee, OK, June 4, 2014.
106
Hopi Tutskwa Permaculture, “Hopi Farmers Market & Exchange,”
https://www.hopitutskwapermaculture.com/job-announcements.
107
Sean Sherman, interview, Minneapolis MN, August 29, 2014.
108
Ben Jacobs, conversation, Tocabe restaurant in Denver Colorado, November 21, 2015.
109
Diane Wilson interview, Dream of Wild Health farm, Hugo, MN, August 14, 2014.
110
Romajean Thomas interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
111
[I THINK WE SHOULD GET RID OF THIS FOOTNOTE ENTIRELY
112
Nancy J. Turner and Dawn C. Loewen, “The Original ‘Free Trade’: Exchange of Botanical
Products and Associated Plant Knowledge in Northwestern North America,” Anthropologica 40,
no. 1 (1998): 49–70, https://doi.org/10.2307/25605872.
113
Scott Shoemaker interview, Science Museum of Minnesota, St. Paul, August 29, 2014.
114
Josh Sargent interview, Akwesasne Mohawk Reservation, September 7, 2014.
115
Rowen White interview, Nevada City, CA, July 16, 2014.
116
Pati Martinson interview, Taos, NM, June 12, 2014.
117
Intertribal Agriculture Council, “Mobile Farmers Market, Trade Routes Roadtrip,”
https://nativefoodnetwork.com/trade-routes/.
118
Darlene Fairbanks interview, Minneapolis, MN, August 12, 2014.
119
Melissa Nelson interview, Novata, CA, June 24, 2014.
120
Jeff Metoxen interview, Tsyunhehkwa, Oneida Nation of WI, August 20, 2014.
121
Melissa Nelson interview, Novata, CA, June 24, 2014.
59
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
122
Lannesse Baker interview, Minneapolis, MN, August 13, 2014.
123
Keith Glidewell interview, Bishop, CA, July 14, 2014.
124
Amos Hinton interview, Novata, CA, June 6 2014.
125
Valerie Segrest interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
126
Stephanie Berryhill interview, Okmulgee, OK, June 4, 2014.
127
Lori Watso interview, Shakopee Mdewakanton Sioux Tribe, MN, August 7, 2014.
128
Julie Garreau interview, Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, SD, August 1, 2014.
129
Zach Paige interview, White Earth Reservation, MN, August 5, 2014.
130
Stephanie Berryhill interview, Okmulgee, OK, June 4, 2014.
131
Valerie Segrest interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
132
Don Charnon interview, Tsyunhehkwa, Oneida Nation of WI, August 20, 2014.
133
Amos Hinton interview, Ponca, OK, June 6, 2014.
134
Diane Wilson interview, Dream of Wild Health farm, Hugo, MN, August 14, 2014.
135
Christina Elias interview, Minneapolis, MN, August 13, 2014.
136
Milo Yellowhair interview, Pine Ridge Reservation, SD, August 3, 2014.
137
Melissa Nelson interview, Novata CA, June 24 2014.
138
Lilian Hill interview, Kykotsmovi, AZ, July 9, 2014.
139
Chuck Hoskins interview, Tahlequa, OK, June 7, 2014.
140
Julie Garreau interview, Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, SD, August 1, 2014.
141
Bob Shimek interview, White Earth Reservation, MN, August 5, 2014.
142
Grace Ann Byrd interview, Dupont, WA, July 22, 2014; Romajean Thomas interview,
Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
143
Michael Dahl conversation, Minneapolis, MN, August 7, 2014.
60
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
144
Mike Wiggins interview, Bad River Reservation, WI, August 19, 2014.
145
Pati Martinson interview, Taos, NM, June 12, 2014.
146
Caitlin Krenn interview, Dupont, WA, July 22, 2014.
147
Gayley Morgan, phone interview, July 25, 2014.
148
Woodrow White interview, Tomah, WI, August 21, 2014.
149
Amos Hinton interview, Ponca City, OK, June 6, 2014.
150
Roberto Nutlouis interview, Pinon, AZ, July 10, 2014.
151
Stephanie Berryhill interview, Okmulgee, OK, June 4, 2014.
152
Angelo McHorse interview, Taos, NM, June 12, 2014.
153
Jack Kloppenburg, “Seed Sovereignty: The Promise of Open Source Biology,” in Food
Sovereignty: Reconnecting Food, Nature and Community, ed. Hannah Wittman, Annette Aurelie
Desmarais, and Nettie Wiehe (Halifax and Winnipeg: Fernwood Publishing, 2010), 152–67, 165.
154
Rowen White interview, Nevada City, CA, July 16, 2014.
155
Clayton Brascoupe interview, Tesuque Pueblo, NM, June 11, 2014.
156
Kloppenburg, “Seed Sovereignty,” 157.
Sheryl D. Breen, “Saving Seeds: The Svalbard Global Seed Vault, Native American Seed
157
Savers, and Problems of Property,” Journal of Agriculture, Food Systems, and Community
Development 5, no. 2 (2015): 39–52, 46–47, https://doi.org/10.5304/jafscd.2015.052.016.
158
Lilian Hill interview, Kykotsmovi, AZ, July 9, 2014.
159
Rowen White interview, Nevada City, CA, July 16, 2014.
160
Julie Garreau interview, Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, SD, August 1, 2014.
161
Valerie Segrest, presentation at the Native American Culinary Association conference, Desert
Sonoran Museum, Tucson, AZ, November, 2013.
162
Valerie Segrest, presentation at the Food Sovereignty Summit, Green Bay, WI, April 16, 2014.
163
Roberto Nutlouis interview, Pinon, AZ, July 10, 2014.
61
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
164
Jeff Metoxen interview, Tsyunhehkwa, Oneida Nation of WI, August 20, 2014.
165
Kenny Perkins interview, Akwesasne Mohawk Reservation, September 5, 2014.
166
Grace Ann Byrd interview, Dupont, WA, July 22, 2014
167
Don Charnon interview, Tsyunhehkwa, Oneida Nation of WI, August 20, 2014.
168
Cassius Spears Sr. interview, Westerly RI, April 30, 2016.
169
Woodrow White interview, Tomah, WI, August 21, 2014.
170
Romajean Thomas interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014
171
Melissa Nelson interview, Novata, CA, June 24, 2014
172
Ken Parker interview, Cattaragus Reservation, September 2, 2014.
173
Roberto Nutlouis interview, Pinon, AZ, July 10, 2014
174
Valerie Segrest, presentation at the Native American Culinary Association conference, Desert
Sonoran Museum, Tucson, AZ, November, 2013
175
Jeff Metoxen interview, Tsyunhehkwa, Oneida Nation of WI, August 20, 2014.
.
176
Valerie Segrest, presentation at the Native American Culinary Association conference, Desert
Sonoran Museum, Tucson, AZ, November, 2013.
177
Valerie Segrest interview, Muckleshoot Tribal College, WA, July 21, 2014.
178
Desmarais and Wittman, “Farmers, Foodies and First Nations.” There are a number of studies
from Manitoba, Canada, that focus on indigenous food sovereignty in the context of wild foods. For
example, see Rudolph and Mclachlan “Seeking Indigenous Food Sovereignty: Origins of and
Responses to the Food Crisis in Northern Manitoba Canada,”; Kamal, et al., “A Recipe for
Change”; Shirley Thompson, Asfia Gulrukh Kamal, Mohammad Ashraful Alam and Jacinta Wiebe.
“Community Development to Feed the Family in Norther Manitoba Communities: Evaluating Food
Activities Based on their Food Sovereignty, Food Security, and Sustainable Livelihood Outcomes.”
Canadian Journal of Nonprofit and Social Economy Research. 3, no. 2 (2012:43-66; Marten et al.
“Understanding Indigenous Food Sovereignty through an Indigenous Research Paradigm,”
179
See, for example, Rudolph and McLachlon “Seeking Indigenous Food Sovereignty: Origins of
and Responses to the Food Crisis in Northern Manitoba Canada,”
180
Reader and Johnson, “Tohono O’odham Himdag and Agri/Culture”; David A. Cleveland, Fred
Bowannie Jr., Donald F. Eriacho, Andrew Laahty, and Eric Perramond, “Zuni Farming and
United States Government Policy: The Politics of Biological and Cultural Diversity in
Agriculture,” Agriculture and Human Values 12, no. 3 (1995): 2–18,
https://doi.org/10.1007/BF02217150.
181
Email correspondence between the author and Dan Cornelius, July 9, 2017.
182
Stark, “Nenabozho’s Smart Berries,” 343, citing David Wilkins, American Indian Politics and
the American Political System (2002), 48.
62
DOI: 10.17953/aicrj.41.3.hoover
183
Vine Deloria Jr., cited in ibid., 352.
184
Ibid., 352.
185
Cobb, “Understanding Tribal Sovereignty,” 125.
186
Jeremy McClain interview, Bad River Reservation, WI, August 18, 2014.
187
Alan Bacock interview, Big Pine, CA, July 14, 2014.
188
Clayton Harvey interview, Ft. Apache, AZ, July 3, 2014.
189
Rowen White interview, Nevada City, CA, July 16, 2014.
Kyle Powys Whyte, “Indigenous Food Sovereignty, Renewal and Settler Colonialism,” in The
190
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