A visit with the Wisahkotewinowak Indigenous gardening collective
Wrriten by Sarah Anderson, Neighbourhood Laision in the Neighbourhood Development Office.
When I last saw Dave Skene, he had dropped by with a jar of fresh maple syrup on an afternoon in late March. Wisahkotewinowak, an Indigenous garden collective to which Dave belongs, had been awarded a LoveMyHood grant to celebrate the 2020 Maple Moon in two Kitchener parks. As the Neighbourhood Liaison, I had been supporting Dave and a group of park neighbours to put on these celebrations.
For several years, the Wisahkotewinowak network has been building relationships with local urban lands, with a focus on Indigenous food sovereignty and land-based education.
As with all March 2020 events, safety concerns brought on by the pandemic meant plans for the park sugar boil, the fiddling, the Métis storytelling, and the neighbourhood potluck could not go forward. However, the sap boil at the sugar bush went ahead. For days, Dave and others worked in small, distanced groups at White Owl Native Ancestry’s sugar bush in the Caryndale neighbourhood.
I was grateful for Dave’s porch-side drop-off of syrup. Dave told me how sap water had been set aside and frozen to be used by elders in ceremony. Jars of syrup would be added to the summer’s Indigenous food boxes to share with families. That gift of syrup from Dave held the sap of many trees, the work of many hands, and the traditions and knowledge of many Indigenous communities.
LoveMyHood gives me the opportunity to support people who want to build community in neighbourhoods. In talking to Dave, I learned that neighbourhood means not just the places, but the land. And neighbours don’t just refer to people, but to trees, waters, rocks and plants.
Fast forward several months, and I’m standing in one of the Wisahkotewinowak and White Owl Native Ancestry gardens. There has been rain in the night. Plants grown from saved seeds reach over our heads on this grey September morning. Dave points out the three sisters - corns, beans, squash - growing together. There is Haudenosaunee white corn, Gete Okosomin squash, and soup beans. Tall Arakara sunflowers offer seeds for birds so they’ll leave the corn alone. Tobacco leaves dry in a Métis Red River cart beside us.
“I hesitate to say that this is the traditional way,” Dave says, indicating the corn stalks planted in mounds, with squash forming a large circle around the group of mounds. “Every family has their own way of planting the three sisters.”
Today, Dave, Liz and Sarina are at the garden to harvest tomatoes, onions and greens for this week’s food box. I visit to catch up on what they’ve been up to during these uncertain pandemic times.
A mighty crew of volunteers, summer students, and staff have grown enough produce from this and other gardens to share between 14 local families. The weekly Indigenous food boxes have helped people subsidize their grocery bills during this challenging time, while staying connected to traditional foods.
Dave and I discuss the possibility of going back to the park where we’d hoped to celebrate the maple moon. If safety restrictions around gathering allow, perhaps some park neighbours and Indigenous community members could come together for some apple cider making instead?
It’s hard to know what to expect as we head into Fall 2020. Dave, Liz and Sarina plan to keep harvesting for Indigenous food boxes into November. And I’ll keep looking for new ways to learn from and support community building in neighbourhoods.
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