#indigenous-knowledge

#indigenous-knowledge

Between 1940 and 2020, the average body mass of birds in 10 Indigenous and local communities on three continents declined by up to 72%. For the Indigenous communities who were interviewed, birds often hold immeasurable symbolic and ceremonial significance. Thus, ritual dances, songs, and place names are at risk of being lost in the face of this loss of biodiversity.

But as an Indigenous person who studies environmental humanities, this sort of effort, and the debate about it, misses a key ecological perspective. Biologically speaking, it is normal, and even critical, for nature to do more during the brighter months and to do less during the darker ones. Animals go into hibernation, plants into dormancy. Humans are intimately interconnected with, interdependent on, and interrelated to nonhuman beings, rhythms and environments.

In 2020, while writing her PhD dissertation on bringing land-restoration efforts in urban settings in Seattle under the management of Indigenous peoples, the Indigenous scientist Jessica Hernandez noticed that many of the articles and books she wanted to incorporate were not written by Indigenous people. Moreover, those that were were often not written in English. She wrote her first book, Fresh Banana Leaves (2022), as a way to help Indigenous peoples feel represented and to integrate Indigenous knowledge into scientific research.

The key insight is that true abundance comes from within—our creativity, generosity, and the love we share with others and the planet.

Organizations such as UNESCO have raised questions around AI, especially concerning the increasing digitization of content on the Internet that often complicates the relationship with traditional knowledge systems.

The rise of interest in teaching by the Māori Lunar Calendar raises a critical question: 'Where should we draw the line between cultural appreciation and magical thinking?'