 From The Conversation, this is Don't Call Me Resilient. I'm Vanita Srivastava. The grass has its roots in colonialism, empire, and trade, and in my part of the world, slavery as well. So we take the plant from across the seas, bring it here, and impose an aesthetic on what we want a garden to look like. From a social justice lens, I ask the question, why do we have to have grass? The long weekend coming up is the unofficial start of summer. And for those of you with home gardens or access to community space, this is the weekend to visit the garden center and dust off your gardening tools for the growing season ahead. Whether you plan to get marigolds, plant a vegetable garden, or create a pollinator patch, gardens have complicated roots. They're deeply tied to colonialism. Here to speak with me about this is Jacqueline L. Scott, a PhD candidate at the University of Toronto's Ontario Institute for Studies and Education. She's in the Department of Social Justice Education, and her research focuses on the wilderness and making it a welcoming space for Black people. Caroline Crawley is also here with us today. She is a woman with migma, black, and Irish ancestry. She is a member of the Indigenous Land Stewardship Circle, and she leads workshops, walks, and retreats that integrate Indigenous teachings into practice. Thank you both so much for being here today. Thank you for having me. Yes, thank you. It's gardening season. The weather is finally warming up, and things are starting to bud and bloom. Caroline, what are you excited about during this time of year? I'm always excited about this time of year because it's about welcoming those relations back, seeing all flowers starting to bloom, and seeing other plant relatives that are starting to pop up that I recognize. That's exciting. And how about Jacqueline? You've got a balcony garden, right? What do you usually grow there? I've got a six-floor balcony garden full sun, and so this time of year, it's the excitement and a bit of dread because when I go out there, it's looking at, okay, what has survived the winter? I know the cedars will have survived, but pretty much everything else is going to be dead. And at the same time, it's a walk through the corner garden centers to see what else will I try this year. I know it will survive for a season on my balcony, but give up hope that the following year, anything will come back. So it's always about starting new seeds and new plants for you? Very much so. Now, we've talked a little bit about our small patches in our space, but I want to talk about the larger picture of gardening. Gardening is much more complicated than us digging a hole in the ground or planting a simple plant. Jacqueline, what I understand is that it starts with the western study of plants. Can you explain a little bit about that connection? I look at what are people growing, and so for many of us tulips and daffodils, they are the typical flowers that say, hey, spring is here. Come on out. The sun is out. But from another perspective, those tulips and daffodils are also a really good indicator of our complicated relationship with plants from a colonial perspective. Tulips and daffodils are not native to Canada. And so when I walk through city parks, the question is, why do we plant these plants that came from Europe? And we see them as natural and normal harbingers of spring. What about native plants? Why don't we see trillions in the city parks? And so for me, welcome those flowers. And I'm also aware of the biggest story about colonialism and how that shapes what we think of as a garden and what we see in the garden. So what we see you're saying comes from elsewhere, Europeans, European colonizers. How does this connect to the emergence of botany as a science? When I think of typical garden plants, in many ways, the ideal of the perfect garden is an English country garden. And in an English country garden, 90% of those plants are not native to England. And when we carry the English country garden ideal to Canada, 90% of the plants are not native to Canada. In the days of empire, bioprospecting, i.e. go across the world, see what plants you can find that can be used to support empire, gardening, botany is part of that tradition. So you can appreciate the lovely plants, but for me, looking through my social justice lens, there is also another story about how those plants got here and their relationship with what is a garden and their relationship with inequality. So all of this really impacts how we see a garden today. And I personally have visited all these beautiful botanical gardens, right? These collections of plant species that have been brought together. They're really good example of ecological colonialism. Colonialism takes many forms and ecological colonialism is dealing with the plants and with the animal species that we see and now take for granted. Not just the botanical gardens, but think of those city parks. Even think of the trees that are planted, street trees. For example, things like weeping willow and horse chestnut trees, they're not native to here. So there's a whole colonial apparatus that shows up in gardens and on street trees and in city parks and that's part of the ecological colonialism. But we take the trees for granted, we take the tulips and daffodils for granted. So when you question it, it's like, are you mad? They're only pretty flowers. They're still pretty, but it's a link to empire and colonialism that's there that's embedded in those flowers. The way that we've been talking about gardening as a byproduct of colonialism, it means that the way that we talk about gardening is a byproduct of Western knowledge. And Carolyn, this is one of the things that you teach. Indigenous peoples in North America have had relationships with plants and the land long before the colonial settlers arrived. And much of that has been erased. How do you think that impacts the way that people relate to plants and to gardens today? I think it's complicated. I'm always hearing about these new garden techniques, whether it's like lasagna gardening or permaculture. These are Indigenous practices that have just been given new names and have been co-opted by others. You're saying something like lasagna gardening or any of these kind of quote unquote new techniques of gardening that maybe are trendy or that people are talking about right now. You're saying these are not new in any kind of way. Indigenous peoples have been in a deep relationship with these lands since time immemorial. And there's that inherent wisdom as to how to be in good relationship with these relatives. And even just when I think about the way people speak about these relatives in the English language, which is the language of the colonizers, there's often words that are used to reference these beings that don't exist in Indigenous languages. For example, the word weeds and the words invasive to reference a plant relative. Through teachings that I've received since I was young in my family, that all life is sacred and all life has purpose. And there's also responsibility when you take life from an animal or plant that it's done in a good way and respectful way and with reciprocity. So when I think about these words invasive weeds to reference plants that aren't native to here, it's not the fault of the plants that they are here. You think about the energy behind those words. There's a negative connotation attached to these words. What I've learned from my family is that all these beings are our relatives, the lands, the waters, the plants, the trees, the animals, the insects. And then to be treated with as much love and respect and gratitude as we treat our human loved ones. And so when I think about these particular beings that aren't native to here, they could be housing habit here. And what do we do if we're going to remove them? How do we do it in a good way? How do we do it in a respectful way? And is there a responsibility to know who that plant is and to know what their role is, where they came from, so that if they were foods or medicines and maybe we're growing these particular plants, if we're growing food gardens and maybe the garlic mustard is popping up or the dandelions at the same time, instead of just removing them and throwing them in a compost pile, like their garbage or not worthy, perhaps taking the time to learn about those plant relatives and utilize them for foods and medicines if we're harvesting foods and medicines from that garden. So it's just about looking at it through a different way of relationship. I agree. There's a lot of plants that are here that people assume that are native to here. And oftentimes those plants are prioritized over native plants. And then what are the impacts upon that onto the pollinators, the native bees? You know, if they're not recognizing the plants, how does that impact them? Because I'm thinking about those generations ahead. And we might not see the impacts today, but we may see those impacts in future generations. What you're talking about is challenging me to think about the language that I use, the idea of not just throwing out the language invasive species, but to think about what that means and what it is that you're looking at. Even just the common language around the word dirt to reference the soil. A lot of people say, yeah, I'm going to get my hands in the dirt. Yeah. But I'm going to think about dirt. I think of something unclean, something dirty that I have to clean. I personally wouldn't use that word dirt. Now I would use the word soil because there's so much life in there thinking about all those microorganisms and how they're supporting all of life. When I think about some of these words that are commonly used in English to reference these relatives, they don't foster that respecting loving gratitude for a loved one, even though they may not be native to here. It also makes me think about the idea of using things, taking things. If you're looking at plant life as something to be respected and to have a relationship with, and it's not something that you exploit or take or extraction is the other word that I'm trying to think of. It becomes a different kind of relationship to the land then as well. Yeah. It's extractive that land is seen as a commodity, something to profit from or to gain from. And there's also a sense of ownership. These are my plants, my garden, my tree. And through indigenous ways of knowing, we can't own another living being even through the treaty processes. The concept of owning land was even in one's world view amongst indigenous peoples. When you were speaking with us earlier, you told a story about Smokey the Bear. If you can tell that story, I'd love to hear it again. It's a very common practice amongst indigenous peoples from coast to coast to burn the lands in the springtime. And that was important for multiple reasons and depending on the region where you were located. For the region here on the territory of the Nishnabek and the Haudenosaunee, it was to help support the black oak savannas because the acorns were important food source. But also because those oak trees need the burn in order to germinate. When you're doing prescribed burns, like when my grandfather did it, it's also to remove all the dry brush. It prevents forest fires by doing that. It also creates opportunity to clear the land and open up the land to make it easier for movement, for not only ourselves, but for other animals as well. So that's a practice, an ancient practice. And there's ceremony that's connected to these practices. But then what happened was there was a campaign in the 50s that started with Smokey the Bear and it was really a focus on fear and fire suppression. It was intentionally created to protect the lumber industry because they saw the trees as a commodity, something to profit from. And so they created this campaign to instill fear and to suppress fire. And now we can see the impacts of that fire suppression because now, especially on the West Coast, lots of lands are burning. Right now, Alberta is struggling with a lot of uncontrolled fires that are impacting the lands. I wanted to ask Jacqueline about lawns because we're approaching the long weekend and it's a time when a lot of people start thinking about their lawns and gardens for the first time. But lawns are complicated. Jacqueline? Well, what is grass good for? We grow grass mainly to look at it. And the aesthetic of front garden, full with grass, it's about having a landscape that is very uniform that we control with a whole ton of pesticides. It is something about fitting into a neighborhood. And so when I see grass, I see a long complicated history of our attempt to control nature, but also our attempts to impose a uniformity in terms of the garden aesthetic. This is what we want a garden to look like. The grass is not even native to here, the kind of grass we use. It's a mixture of grass from Africa, from the Caribbean, from Europe. The grass has its roots in colonialism, empire and trade. And in my part of the world, slavery as well. So we take the plant from across the seas, bring it here and impose an aesthetic on what we want a garden to look like. And so from a social justice lens, I ask the question, why do we have to have grass? Why does a front garden have to look like that? And when you think of the city streets and all that money that is poured into mowing the grass, all those pesticides that goes into maintaining the grass, we're maintaining something that is ecologically barren. Why couldn't we replace the grass, especially those narrow strips, with a wildflower garden? A wildflower garden that would encourage birds, bees, butterflies, insects, all native to actually have space in the city instead of the boring grass that takes so much effort and we do nothing with it. And it's not that pretty to look at when you have the brown bear patches. And so grass, for me, really underlines how colonialism of the ecological form is so embedded in our everyday world. I was smiling when you said brown bear patches, because I read an article that described people painting their grass green because of drought in some southern states in the US, the grass is brown. The pressure is, I guess, that much to look a certain way. What was originally there and what is the lawn replacing? You don't grow vegetables, herbs and fruits because that's lower class. Now Cabbage Town in Toronto was called Cabbage Town because hungry people planted cabbages in their front yards. And that was a no-no. The cultural aesthetic that front gardens are meant to be looked at to be admired. Why can't we plant fruits and vegetables among the flowers? When we plant street trees, why can't we plant fruit trees? When we plant shrubs, why can't we plant berry-bearing shrubs? But so much of the European garden aesthetic, which is the norm here, it's about things looking pretty. Whereas other garden aesthetics, they can still look pretty, but guess what? You can eat them. Oh, the birds and butterflies, the native birds and butterflies and other insects can also eat them and have a home in them. Yeah, fruit trees are so beautiful. And especially in the spring, they give such beautiful flowers. Carolyn, what is the harm in favouring, quote unquote, invasive species over plants that are native to the land that we live on? All the plants in the trees and the animals and the insects are following their original instructions. It's only humans that have faltered from that. And when we're thinking about non-native plants being favoured over native plants, what are the implications onto other beings? How does that impact the birds and the insects? And what are the long-term effects? How does that impact the microorganisms in the soil or even the quality of the soil? We can see throughout the earth, around the world, the implications of what people have done to change the landscape without really taking into consideration other beings. We have a lot of maple trees that aren't native to here. And those maple trees are having an impact upon the sugar maple trees. Just looking at the bigger picture and taking the time to pause and think about it, and it's not just about us. It's about looking at all of our relationships equally and seeing what the impacts are. Jacqueline was talking about people planting tulips and daffodils that aren't native to here. How does that have an impact upon the pollinators? Because when they're coming out, they're following the way for like thousands and thousands of years, they know which plants they're supposed to go to. And there's that symbiotic relationship between them. And so how does that, those particular times, impact that relationship? I admit to being very guilty of this. I've got tulips. I had daffodils up till a couple of weeks ago. But the implications are quite wide because of who is coming to these plants and animals, what they're traditionally looking for and what they have been used to looking for. So having tulips in my garden, it's not native to Canada. It doesn't really support the ecosystem around me. And it goes back to how do you decolonize the garden? It's not just about thinking about ourselves and putting humans on top. It's about thinking about all of our relations and all those beings who are coming to the garden and through the garden. So we want to start to think about native plants then and start to educate ourselves about what kinds of things we could be helping to share and plant. A lot of times people aren't aware of the plants that are native to here. I think about definitely the berries, the bushes, right? My grandparents, they would go to harvest. My mom grew up harvesting blueberries, especially the strawberries, the raspberries. Thinking about some of the trees as well, the pine trees and the cedar trees that are native to here. How do we support them? I always suggest to people do your research, take the time. It's just like when you're getting to know somebody, right? We can't just know somebody from reading their bio or their resume. We have to actually spend time to be with them, to get to know them. And so it's no different about the plants. And I always suggest to people to always plant extra because you have to think about the other beings because they will come. Even though you may not want those squirrels to come and bite into the tomatoes, you're still going to come, right? And so you've got to be prepared or even make a separate garden for them. Well, I was just wondering how we might approach gardening differently. What are some of the things that we can do in our own gardens or balconies or community gardens? Well, I think first it's about building a relationship with the plants and with the lands, taking the time to just listen and to witness and to observe, right? Learn who's coming to the garden and what is it that they're seeking out? I mean, we'll be in relationship. How do we deconstruct some of that conditioning in our minds? A lot of people complain when insects or animals will attack the garden. And those beings are just looking for an easy food source. How do we consider them when we're planting? When thinking about companion planting, that's an ancient practice amongst people all around the earth, thinking about who are the plants that like to grow together and how do you support them in that way? Thinking about what are the nutrients that the soil needs and what are the natural nutrients traditionally ash and wish that were used to fertilize the soil. What were those traditional ways and how can we learn more about them, acknowledge them and credit them as well? Jacqueline, if you want to add to that one, I'm happy to hear. Why don't we have more native plants in the grocery store and in the corner store? Sometimes the native plants are really hard to get or far away. So when I go to the supermarket in the corner store, I actually read the labels and try and figure out where the plant comes from. And I guess the other piece for me is that most people in the city live in apartments. We need a transformation of gardening culture where it's not just about those who have access to garden on the earth. What about plants for the balconies? That's where most of us live. How do we green the balcony? And so often part of the greening of the city is handing out backyard trees. Yeah, brilliant. But I'm on the sixth floor of a condo, where am I supposed to put my tree? There's no incentive to say for those who live in apartments, these are the other kinds of plants that you can put on your balcony to start your garden. We do have to talk about that because given everything that we've talked about today, it's no surprise that there are issues around privilege and access when it comes to gardening and who gets to garden. Jacqueline, you just started talking a little bit about that. You mentioned this tree program that the City of Toronto has and how that will do nothing for people living in apartments. Is there anything that we can do to help change that? I think the first step is actually recognizing that it's an issue. It is recognizing that for many people who live in apartments, especially those in community housing, how do we beautify the landscape in community housing? Acres of grass is boring. How do we encourage people and give them the permission that they can actually start community gardens where they live and begin to plant native flowers and shrubs and the berries, as Carolyn was saying? To me, that would be a major step forward. Carolyn, do you want to add anything to that? The challenge around access for people is huge and oftentimes people who have to resort to growing foods are given, and I say this in quotation given, lands that may not be so desirable, might not be the most aesthetically near convenient place to grow food for people. How do we shift that? I think it's important that there be more community gardens, especially where there are food deserts. Land is seen as a commodity, and only certain people in society get access, and it's also costly. When you think about gardening equipment and all the things that you need, it might be prohibitive to some people. The other part is that not everybody has positive historical experience with gardening when you think about slavery or when you think about residential schools. It's important that people have an awareness about the colonial history attached to gardens. Do you think that we explained that enough to folks who might be like, what are you talking about? What do you mean colonial roots of gardening? It's just pretty and green and makes my summer better. Those who are residential school survivors, many people were forced to garden, so there's that historical context. It's important to be trauma-informed in that respect when it comes to the garden. Gardening is absolutely fun, but it's a complex and layered history. Not everyone has the freedom to walk into a garden and plant whatever they want to plant. It's recognizing some of those histories and how those histories also show up in terms of what we think a garden should look like. How do we actually do the gardening and the plants that we plant in the garden and who is doing the labor in the garden? It's a fun activity, but like everything else in society, gardening consists of a whole series of relationships and those relationships are typically informed by power. It's about who has power in the garden, power to include, power to exclude, who has power to choose the plants. It's fun, but also complicated. It's a totally random story in a way, but my sister did her master's degree in environmental studies back in the 90s and we lived in the suburbs in Toronto and she convinced my dad not to mow the lawn. We got all tickets and tickets, we got citations from the city of Toronto. My sister would be like, no, this is going to be a wild flower, wild garden. So my dad did listen to her, he's analytical, so he heard what she was saying, but we got a lot of tickets. And it goes back to what Jacqueline says. Who's the one who's determining what's beautiful, you know what I mean? As far as aesthetically, right? Why is a wild garden not seen as beautiful compared to a mowed grass? I hope that's changing. I think it is changing because part of the George Floyd effect and also the residential school graves is that it is forcing conversations across many sectors around how does race intersect here? What happens when race enters the room here? And that includes gardening. And so the push to decolonize a garden, as Caroline was saying, it's gone from that would be nice to do to, oh, we actually have to start thinking seriously about this. And it also means that garden collections, for example, the Botanical Garden of Cuban London and the Botanical Gardens in New York are looking at how do we actually decolonize our botanical collections? No, let's talk about the colonial roots of where did these plants come from, how our institutions profited from the genocide and slavery that's associated with these plants. Not everyone is happy with those conversations. There's almost backlash in terms of it's just the plant. Why can't you leave it there? But we can't leave it there because we are still living with the legacies of the genocide and the wake of slavery. And that includes those things show up in gardening as well. That's profound. It's why can't we leave it there? Or maybe we can leave it there, but we can't leave it there without talking about it. Thank you so much for being here. It's been a real pleasure. And I learned a lot from hearing both of you. Thank you. Nice to meet you, Jacqueline. Yeah, nice to meet you, Caroline. That's it for this episode of Don't Call Me Resilient. I learned so much from these women today. And I'm definitely thinking about the plants and animals in my garden differently after that conversation. Thank you again to Jacqueline L. Scott and Carolyn Crawley for taking the time to share their knowledge with us. If you'd like to know more, I've dropped some resources into the show notes and you can find them at theconversation.com. And if you want to get in touch with us, find us on Instagram at Don't Call Me Resilient podcast. If you like what you heard today, please consider sharing the pod with a friend or a family member and write us a review if you can in whatever podcast app you use. And if you haven't done this already, please give us a follow on your podcast app. Finally, if you have ideas about news stories that you'd love to hear us cover, send us an email at DCMR at theconversation.com. Don't Call Me Resilient is a production of The Conversation Canada. This podcast was produced in partnership with the Journalism Innovation Lab. The lab is funded by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. The series is produced and hosted by me, Vinita Srivastava. Vokey Saisi is our producer. Oli Nicholas is our assistant producer and student journalist. Jennifer Morose is our consulting producer. Our audio editor is Remitula Shake. Atika Kaki is our audience development and visual innovation consultant. And Scott White is the CEO of The Conversation Canada. And if you're wondering who wrote and performed the music we use on the pod, that's the amazing Thaki Ibrahim. The track is called Something in the Water.