Bonnie McGill

April 6, 2022 by Erin Southerland

Reckoning with Indigenous sovereignty and US public lands through place names in national parks

by Dr. Bonnie McGill

A person looking at a park map is seated on a mountainside overlooking a river valley with snow capped mountains in the background — *A hiker at Yellowstone National Park. Public domain photo by the National Park Service / Jacob W. Frank.*

US Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland (a member of the Laguna Pueblo) recently initiated a task force to address derogatory place names on federal lands, including names using “squaw.” As the first Native American to serve in her cabinet-level post, Haaland has a deep understanding of the importance of the task force’s work, but is everyone on board?

Why are place names important? According to a recent study I led, addressing place names could be a starting point for reckoning with the US history of dispossession of Indigenous nations from their homelands. The study, published this spring in People and Nature, demonstrates the dual impacts of problematic place names, e.g., commemorating racial violence while simultaneously erasing longstanding and often spiritually connected Indigenous names for landscape features.

The study: “Words are monuments: Patterns in US national park place names perpetuate settler colonial mythologies including white supremacy”

Many consider national parks our nation’s “best idea”ⁱ but don’t realize how park place names cover up the parks’ violent histories. Among the 16 studied national parks and their over 2,200 place names we found:

52 places named for settlers who committed acts of violence against groups, often populations of Indigenous peoples. For example, Mount Doane in Yellowstone National Park, and Harney River in Everglades National Park, both homelands of Indigenous nations, commemorate individuals who led massacres of Indigenous peoples, including women and children.

205 settler place names replacing recorded traditional Indigenous place names. (This count of replacement names is surely an underestimate because written records are biased toward settler histories, much Indigenous knowledge is maintained through oral traditions, and Indigenous knowledge keepers were rarely consulted when settler maps were made.)

10 racial slurs

214 examples of appropriation from Indigenous languages

107 natural features retaining traditional Indigenous place names

Making meaning

Native American groups including the Blackfeetⁱⁱ and Lakota have called for changing place names at national parks and national monuments for over a century (see pictures below). The research my five co-authors and I conducted was in service to such local and national name-changing campaigns. Place names have been used by colonizers and later settlers as a “technology of power” to justify their occupation of Indigenous lands and hierarchical social structuresⁱⁱⁱ. In the words of Indigenous scholar Linda Tuhiwai Smith (Ngāti Awa and Ngāti Porou Māori) “renaming the landscape [as part of the colonial project] was probably as powerful ideologically as changing the land”^iv. To me, the study’s findings demonstrate how place names in the parks contribute, at a system-wide scale, to the erasure of Indigenous sovereignty over their homelands. Reconciling this wrong will require a system-wide response, such as Secretary Haaland’s task force and future task forces to address more than just derogatory names.

Top image is a historic black and white photo showing three Blackfeet leaders traditionally dressed including feathered headdresses and four white men standing around the desk of Stephen Mather, seated. Bottom image is a color photo showing Chief Grier in traditional dress handing a document to a man dressed in national park uniform and ranger hat with men standing behind Chief Grier, including Lee Juan Tyler wearing a traditional feathered headdress. This photo takes place outdoors with Yellowstone National Park in the background. — Native Americans resist settler colonial place names in national parks. Top: Blackfeet leaders Bird Rattler (far left), Curly Bear (second from left) and Wolf Plume (third from left) meet with Stephen Mather, soon-to-be Park Service director (sitting), and others in Washington, DC in 1915 to protest the use of English-language names in Glacier National Park. Photo courtesy of the National Park Service, Harpers Ferry Center. Bottom: In 2018 Chief Stanley Charles Grier of the Piikani Nation gives a Yellowstone National Park deputy superintendent a declaration from several Indigenous Nations demanding a change to the place names Mount Doane and Hayden Valley. Lee Juan Tyler (Shoshone-Bannock Tribes) and Brandon Sazue, Sr. (Crow Creek Sioux) stand in solidarity with Chief Grier. Individuals shown have given the authors permission to use their image. Photo courtesy of Nate Hegyi of Mountain West News Bureau.

In discussions with Kiaayo Tamisoowo (Bear Returning over the Hill) Chief Stanley Grier (Fig. 1B) of the Piikani Nation and Blackfoot Confederacy, he said that our study has

shed important light on the true spirit and facts pertaining to National Park Place Names which were in place since time immemorial by our ancestors. To give Place Names [such as Mt. Doane in Yellowstone] to persons who authorized and who carried out the massacre of approximately 173 of my ancestors in 1870 on the Marias River, Montana is an atrocity that only perpetuates the illegitimate honor of persons that would be classified as War Criminals. Hayden Valley ought to be changed to Buffalo Nations Valley^v and Mount Doane to First Peoples’ Mountain.

I also recently spoke with Chief Arvol Looking Horse, spiritual leader of the Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota Great Sioux Nation. For decades Chief Looking Horse has sought to change the name of Devils Tower, the enormous, landscape-dominating igneous rock formation in northeastern Wyoming that is the namesake of Devils Tower National Monument. His proposal to change the name of the geologic feature to Bear Lodge has sat with the US Board of Geographic Names since 2015 due to stalling by congressional representatives from Wyoming. Bear Lodge is a sacred site to many native nations including the Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota. The site’s current name originated from the mistaken settler belief that Native religious rituals conducted there were forms of devil worship.

When I asked Chief Looking Horse why returning traditional place names is meaningful to him he said,

We as a people of the Earth are connected to Mother Earth, the source of life. Our history is spiritually connected to the Earth. We take care of the Black Hills, the heart of Mother Earth, through ceremony. Returning place names is needed more than ever because of the global disasters. The name of sacred sites came from the spirit, through ceremony, through prayer. For example, Mato Tipila, Bear Lodge is where the White Buffalo Calf Woman brought us the sacred pipe. I am the 19th generation keeper of the sacred pipe. And yet a soldier can just, out of anger and hatred to our people, rename such a sacred place Devils Tower. In our sacred language we don’t even have a word for devil. Returning Mato Tipila, Bears Lodge is the most important derogatory name for Deb Haaland to address.

Some readers might label this study and its attention to place names as a part of cancel culture. To me, that is a red herring that distracts from the need for the dominant US culture to reckon the US history and living legacies of land dispossession and genocide of Native American peoples, a long process repeatedly marked by instances where peoples were separated from their lands.

Reckoning with the past is necessary for all peoples to move forward together into a future that is more equitable and sustainable. This concept is a guiding principle for the work we do in the Anthropocene Studies Section at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Part of my motivation for this work was to understand the kind of restorative actions involved with the reckoning of US history and on-going harms of settler colonialism.

A closing thought on “wilderness”

In popular US culture, our national parks and wilderness areas are thought of as places to escape; places to be out there with “real nature”. But settlers had to first make national parks and wilderness areas free of human occupation. Much of the awe that current national park lands inspired among European colonizers was in part the result of active ecosystem management by Indigenous peoples living with the land. Many national park ecosystems were dramatically changed with the loss of Native American stewardship (e.g. preventing forest fires)^vi.

As the first and now second edition of “We Are Nature” demonstrate for museum visitors, humans are part of, not separate from, nature. In fact, most of terrestrial Earth has been stewarded for thousands of years by Indigenous peoples. So the idea of an uninhabited “wilderness” is less ecological science and more of a settler colonial myth. That doesn’t mean national parks haven’t come to play an important role in conservation of biodiversity or that we shouldn’t visit national parks. I suggest, however, that we visit with greater awareness of park history and of the peoples for whom those lands are their homelands. I also suggest environmentalists use the term wilderness with care and understand it’s social-cultural implications^vii.

Get involved

People can take action by getting involved with a national campaign launched at WordsAreMonuments.org by the social justice pop-up museum, The Natural History Museum. Also, check out this new guide on how individuals, community groups, and Tribal Nations can change place names. The public is also invited to comment on potential replacements for derogatory names on federal lands by April 25.

Bonnie McGill, Ph.D. is a science communication fellow for the Climate and Rural Systems Partnership and based in the Anthropocene Studies Section at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

Notes

^[i] From an essay by Wallace Stegner: “The Best Idea We Ever Had” in Wilderness magazine, Spring 1983 p4-13.

^[ii] A note on Blackfeet vs. Blackfoot: The nation in what is now Montana is Aamskapi Pikuni (Blackfeet Nation, including individuals shown in Fig. 1A), a member of Siksikaitsitapi (Blackfoot Confederacy), which also includes the Kainai-Blood Tribe, Siksika, Peigan-Piikani (including Chief Grier in Fig. 1B).

^[iii] Rose-Redwood, R., Alderman, D., & Azaryahu, M. (2017). The urban streetscape as political cosmos. In R. Rose-Redwood (Ed.), The Political Life of Urban Streetscapes: Naming, Politics, and Place (pp. 1–24). London: Routledge. doi: 10.4324/9781315554464

Alderman, D. H. (n.d.). Commemorative Place Naming: To Name Place, To Claim the Past, ToRepair Futures. In F. Giraut & M. Houssay-Holzschuch (Eds.), Naming Places. London:ISTE-Wiley. Retrieved from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/341412389

^[iv] Smith, L. T. (2012). Decolonizing Methodologies: Research and Indigenous Peoples (2nd Ed.). 1025 London: Zed Books Ltd.

^[v] The sovereign Tribal Nations of Yellowstone formally requested the Yellowstone Superintendent to support changing Hayden Valley to Buffalo Nations Valley (see Fig. 1B). Ferdinand Hayden was a geologist who led the first federally funded geological survey of Yellowstone in 1871. His report was essential in persuading Congress to establish the national park. His report also called for the forced assimilation or, failing that, extermination of Native Americans. Other writings of his also demonstrate his white supremacist worldview, a tool used by settler colonizers to justify dispossessing Native Americans from their lands.

^[vi] Read more about this in:

Anderson, M. K. (2013). Tending the Wild: Native American Knowledge and the Management of California’s Natural Resources. Oakland: University of California Press; Kimmerer, R. W., & Lake, F. K. (2001).

Maintaining the Mosaic: The role of indigenous burning in land management. Journal of Forestry, 99(11), 36–41. doi: 10.1093/jof/99.11.36

Kimmerer, Robin W. (2012). Braiding Sweetgrasss : Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants. (1st ed.). Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions

^[vii] Fletcher et al. 2021. Indigenous knowledge and the shackles of wilderness. PNAS https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2022218118

Climate Change Myth Busting at the Museum

by Dr. Bonnie McGill

If you’ve visited the museum recently you may have noticed some new orange labels throughout the exhibit halls. These are part of an innovative visitor experience titled, We Are Nature: A New Natural History. I helped write the label you’ll find in Benedum Hall of Geology next to the oil and coal specimens. Its six-word headline reads “Burning fossil fuels causes climate change”.

Tweet includes a selfie photo of the author in front of the new label. The tweet reads “That’s right—the fossil fuels exhibit @CarnegieMNH now states ‘Burning FF causes climate change’! A small but mighty change. #climatechange #scicomm” My twitter handle is @BonnSci and the museum is @CarnegieMNH. — Screenshot of a tweet I sent in December.

This is an important exhibit update. When looking at a big chunk of coal, it’s hard to not think about climate change. Fossil fuel combustion is the leading cause of climate change. For example, from 2010-2019, burning fossil fuels (coal, oil, natural gas) accounted for 81-91% of total human-caused CO₂ emissions (IPCC AR6 WGI 2021 ch 5 p 6). Over that same time period the measured global average temperature was 1.6-2.2 ^oF (0.9-1.2 ^oC) warmer than the pre-industrial global average temperature. This increase cannot be explained by natural processes (such as changes in solar irradiance or volcanoes), which actually decreased the temperature by 0.2 ^oF (0.1^oC), according to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) (IPCC AR6 WGI 2021 ch 3 p4).

While the museum has understood the science of anthropogenic climate change for many years, adding these new labels explicitly linking fossil fuels to climate change has created opportunities for new discussion and questions about what scientists know and what they don’t know. To help address these questions, the CMNH Natural History Interpreters have been working with the Climate and Rural Systems Partnership (CRSP) to bolster their climate conversation skills and climate science knowledge. One tool we at CRSP have developed with our regional network of community partners is a climate change myth busting resource that breaks down some of the most commonly repeated myths about climate change.

Let me show you how the climate change myth busting resource works. For example, here is one myth we hear a lot:

“The climate has always changed, therefore this is natural.”

The guide provides three types of information to address the myth:

1. The science bottom line

Yes, the climate has always changed. This time it’s different. It’s more rapid than past changes and it can only be explained by human activity.

2. The science in more detail (not a script, simply background information)

Past climate changes were dominated by naturally occurring cyclical changes in the Earth’s orbit and axis. Volcanoes and asteroid impacts have also changed the chemistry of the atmosphere and, thus, Earth’s temperature in the past. These forces continue to have effects. Today natural forces contribute a -0.2 ^oF effect on modern day global warming, which cannot explain the warming observed today. Human activities contribute a net increase of 1.4-2.3 ^oF. This means humans are having a 7- to 11-fold greater impact on global temperature than non-human forces of nature.

Scientists have 99.999% certainty that current climate change is human-caused. As the IPCC says “its unequivocal”. One of the strongest lines of evidence comes from comparing observed (past) global average temperatures with projections from climate models for the same time period. Only the climate models that include heat-trapping gas emissions from human activities match the observed temperatures (see plot below). Climate models that include only natural forces of climate change do not match observed changes in global temperature.

Line graph of degrees C -0.5 to 2.0 on the vertical axis vs. year 1850-2020 on the horizontal axis. The lines stay near zero until about 1960 when the black (observed temperature) and brown (simulated temperature driven by humans and natural factors) move upward to about 1.5 degrees in 2020. The green line (simulated natural factors only) stays near zero and does not match the observed line. — Change in global surface temperature (annual average) as observed (in black) and simulated using human & natural (brown) and only natural (green) factors (both 1850-2020). Source: Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) Working Group 1 (WG1) Sixth Assessment Report (AR6) Summary for Policymakers. https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg1/#SPM

Additionally, fossil fuels are the only source of carbon (representing millions of years of plant-stored carbon) large enough to explain the observed increase in atmospheric CO₂. The carbon isotopes in the CO₂ match the carbon isotopes of fossil fuels.

3. Ideas for moving the conversation toward solutions

Recognize that the person engaging in conversation seems to agree that the climate IS changing–shared agreement is vitally important.

It’s true the Earth’s climate has always changed—our planet has had ice ages and Hothouse periods caused by natural changes in the Earth’s orbit and axis, changes in solar irradiance, and volcanoes. This time it’s different. Natural cycles, solar energy, and volcanoes alone are not enough to explain the increase in atmospheric CO₂ concentrations and Earth’s temperature. Human emissions of greenhouse gases, primarily from the burning of fossil fuels, do explain the increase in CO₂ and temperature.

Knowing it is human-caused means it can be human-solved! It is important that we’re on the same page about the cause of climate change, so that we can develop effective solutions. For example, you could say, “Perhaps you might be interested in learning more about climate solutions, many of which improve other conditions too like our health?” For solutions to talk about see Project Drawdown. Transitioning to renewable energy will benefit air and water quality and human health.

Climate change information added to galleries, and training staff on climate science and techniques for talking about it in friendly ways, are just a few examples of how the scientists, educators, and exhibitions team are working together at CMNH to explore Anthropocene topics like climate change. We want to engage museum visitors and work with our regional communities to have productive climate conversations, open discussions that are oriented toward climate solutions and a positive future. Because at the end of the day that is what really matters.

May 2022 update: Here is the completed myth busting resource, “Breaking up with climate myths with climate fact flip cards.”

We also recommend this resource from our partner the Climate Advocacy Lab for learning more about having relational climate conversations.

Warmer Springs and Earlier Birds

by Bonnie McGill

Male Red-winged Blackbird (Agelaius phoeniceus) by Jonathan Eckerson via Macaulay Library.

Male Red-winged Blackbirds! For me, their calls and bright red shoulders are one of the signs that spring is really here. Mind you, this is no subtle sign of spring that takes an expert naturalist to notice. No, this is a sign of spring that slaps you across the face, as if spring is calling, “I’m here! CONK-A-REE! Look at me!” Next time you drive past a wetland area with cattails, there is a good chance you’ll see one or more showing off their red shoulders (the brown females are beautiful too). Red-winged Blackbirds have been back in western PA and announcing their territorial claims since March. Whether you live in the country or the city, bird watching is a great way to observe the change in seasons and connect with the nature around you (and in you).

As a member of the Climate and Rural Systems Partnership (CRSP) team I’ve been gathering evidence-based stories of how climate change is impacting natural processes in western PA. Since this week is the City Nature Challenge, folks might be paying closer attention to birds, creating an opportunity for museum scientists to explain what migratory songbirds in our region can teach us about climate change.

Since 1961 scientists at the museum’s Powdermill Avian Research Center (PARC) in Pennsylvania’s Laurel Highlands have been monitoring birds. In that time they have captured, studied, marked, and released almost 800,000 birds! This week, for example, PARC’s mist nets are temporarily capturing birds like the Common Yellowthroat, Yellow Warbler, House Wren, Ruby-throated Hummingbird, American Redstart, and Wood Thrush.

Migratory birds that are part of the PARC long term dataset (clockwise from left): Wood Thrush, Common Yellowthroat, Yellow Warbler, and Ruby-throated Hummingbird. All of these species are breeding earlier in the year in response to climate change that has already occured. Photos courtesy of Powdermill Avian Research Center.

All of these species are migratory–spending the winter in the southern US, the Caribbean, Central America, and/or South America. Many fly across the Gulf of Mexico (!) on their way north in the spring. All of these birds share another trait–they are nesting earlier in the year than they once did. We will follow the Wood Thrush as an example of how many birds are responding to the warming climate.

on the right side, text reads "Average April temperatures are projected to warm by four to five degrees Fahrenheit by 2050." On the left, there's an illustration of a bird holding a worm in its beak. — The artwork in this blog post is by the author and part of an infographic depicting the information written here.

PARC’s unique 50 year dataset allows scientists to study how birds respond to long term changes, including the warming climate. Average April temperatures in the Laurel Highlands have already increased by two degrees Fahrenheit since the 1960s, and are projected to warm by another four to five degrees Fahrenheit by 2050. Warmer springs trigger earlier plant budburst. Insects, especially caterpillars, feast on buds and young leaves, which have less toxins than mature leaves. Caterpillars are the breakfast of champions (among birds). So, migratory songbirds, including the Wood Thrush, need to synchronize their northward movement with the budburst. This means an earlier arrival, according to the calendar, at points all along their migration route.

Wood Thrushes arrive from Central America five days earlier than they did in the 1960s. Research suggests that migratory birds respond to temperature cues along their migration route and speed up (warmer temperatures) or slow down (cooler temperatures). Birds may be responding to temperature directly or indirectly via other temperature-dependent cues such as wind speed and direction and spring leaf out.

Early arrival is not the only adjustment Wood Thrushes are making, however. The birds are also making their nests and hatching young earlier. Wood Thrushes are nesting 24 days earlier than they did in the 1960s. All four of the bird species in the photo above are breeding earlier. Within the web of organisms that supplies food for birds, May 19 of the present feels like June 11 of the 1960s. The earlier nesting in response to a warming climate means birds that normally hatch and rear multiple broods per breeding season, such as House Wrens and Northern Cardinals, may have greater reproductive capacity. PARC research shows that Gray Catbirds and Northern Cardinals are having more young in warmer springs, but other multi-brood species such as House Wrens and Common Yellowthroats are not.

While birds seem to be keeping pace with climate change now, they may not be able to in the future. Their capacity to adjust migratory and reproductive behavioral traits in response to climate change is finite. Also, we’ve already lost an estimated 3 billion North American birds since 1970 due to factors including habitat loss, insect declines, pesticide use, and predation by domestic cats. Now climate change is making bird survival even more difficult. The capacity of bird populations to evolve in response to climate change is also limited – climate change in the Anthropocene is happening much more rapidly than climate change in past epochs, many times faster than evolution can keep up. The good news is we can help birds, ecosystems, and ourselves by taking action to reduce the severity of climate change.

illustration of two birds flying with the text "You can help birds and climate"

Here are three ways individuals and communities can help birds by mitigating climate change:

1) Conserve habitat: Habitats like forests, wetlands, and prairies provide food and shelter for birds while the plants and soils remove and store carbon away from the atmosphere. These habitats are needed throughout birds’ migratory ranges. Create habitat by reducing lawns and planting native plants. For example, many birds enjoy eating the fruits of spicebush, elderberry, and black cherry, which are native to western Pennsylvania. You can find more bird-friendly plants native to your area at https://www.audubon.org/plantsforbirds.

2) Renewable energy: A just transition to renewable energy sources like properly-sited wind* and solar will reduce greenhouse gas emissions, provide local jobs, improve air quality, and help protect birds and people from climate change. *The National Audubon Society supports properly-sited wind energy.

3) Eat your vegetables: A more plant-based diet is an impactful way to reduce greenhouse gas footprints. Also, choosing food that is grown with less pesticides, and using less pesticides in the stewardship of your garden, helps support the survival of insects that are food for birds. Reductions in demand for pesticides also reduces their manufacture, which further reduces greenhouse gas emissions. Learn more from Project Drawdown.

So get out there, find the signs of spring that are gentle (Trout Lilies) and not-so-gentle (Red-winged Blackbirds), log them in iNaturalist for the City Nature Challenge, and talk with your family and your community about how you can implement one or two (or three!) of the actions suggested above!

You can also read this as an infographic here.

Thank you to the many folks who helped with the development of this blog post and infographic: Luke DeGroote, Mary Shidell, and Annie Lindsay at PARC; the Laurel Highlands network of the Climate and Rural Systems Partnership; Nicole Heller; Taiji Nelson; and Sarah Crawford.

Bonnie McGill, Ph.D. is a science communication fellow for the Climate and Rural Systems Partnership and based in the Anthropocene Studies Section at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

What does it mean to be for a Place?

The following is a summary of a recent publication in Pacific Conservation Biology by a group of David H. Smith Conservation Research Fellows: Stephanie Borrrelle, Jonathan Koch, Caitlin McDonough MacKenzie, Kurt Ingeman, Bonnie McGill, Max Lambert, Anat Belasen, Joan Dudney, Charlotte Change, Amy Teffer, and Grace Wu. You can read the full article here.

When asked “Is protecting biological diversity and the ecosystems that support all life important to you?” most people would say “yes.” This is the work that conservation scientists like me and my friends do. We do things like figure out how to protect endangered bee species in Hawaiʻi (Koch), inform agencies how to manage the endangered whitebark pine in the Sierra Nevada (Dudney), and study how plants that grow on mountaintops in Maine are impacted by climate change (McDonough MacKenzie). However, many of us are not from the Places* we’re working to protect. In fact, many conservation scientists are descendants of colonizers and settlers (settler-colonizers) who removed, or benefited from the removal of Indigenous Peoples from these Places, which are their ancestral lands. Indigenous Peoples practicing diverse cultures lived for millennia in North America stewarding the land.

The Indigenous Peoples displaced by colonialism have distinct knowledges and cultural identities directly rooted in their lands. For example, Mauna Kea is more than a dormant volcano on the island of Hawaiʻi to the kānaka maoli (Native Hawaiians). The mountain is their biophysical and genealogical ancestor, a sacred site for cultural and spiritual activities. Another example is how Aboriginal Peoples in Australia practice cultural fire “for biodiversity, to protect the landscape, and for cultural reasons, all in one” (Steffensen 2019, p233).

Indigenous Peoples’ distinct genealogical and cultural relationship to the land and all the other beings they share the land with is far different than the relationship of settler colonizers to Place and nature. Industrial society is traditionally and intentionally very disconnected from nature, beginning with European states removing peasants from forests and the commodification of nature (Tsing 2005). For example, many of us don’t know where our food comes from; don’t have religious or cultural traditions connecting us to Place, the land, or nature; and don’t know the natural history of the creatures we encounter everyday.

So you can imagine it is more than awkward for settler-colonizer conservation scientists to be the only or dominant source of knowledge about how to conserve a colonized Place, yet for decades this has been a common occurrence. In some cases, conservationists have attempted to act as “white saviors” to local Peoples by centering the work around themselves and excluding local experts (see this piece about conservation in Africa by Mordecai Ogada). In other cases, settler-colonizer conservation has furthered the oppression of local Indigenous People by removing them from their homelands and calling them poachers when they hunt there (see this piece on US National Parks by Isaac Kantor). All with few long term conservation achievements to show for it—for evidence, look no further than the UN Convention on Biological Diversity. Turns out, preserving biodiversity is hard, as is adapting to climate change. At the local level, both of these issues require some global settler-colonial science as well as intimate knowledge of and human interaction with individual Places. I wonder who has that? …

Some settler-colonizer/non-Indigenous conservation scientists are now beginning to listen to Indigenous knowledge keepers, collaborate on research with Indigenous groups, and, in some cases, supporting and following the lead of Indigenous managers of their ancestral lands and waters. Conservation scientists are beginning to understand that the only way to long term conservation successes is to develop conservation strategies that also support the social and physical wellbeing and self-determination of the people who live there. But these settler-Indigenous partnerships are built on a troubled history of colonial violence and oppression. So, how do settler-colonizer conservationists proceed in a way that does not perpetuate harms to Indigenous Peoples? In other words, what does it mean to be for a Place when you’re not from that Place?

Several of my scientist friends and I wrestled with this issue after visiting kia’i (protectors) of Mauna Kea (Mauna a Wākea). It was October 2019 and we were hosted by Moana “Ulu” Ching and Noelani Puniwai, both of whom are kānaka maoli, conservation scientists, and friends with one of us (Koch).

Noelani Puniwai and Moana “Ulu” Ching (far left) met with our group of Smith Conservation Fellows at Pu’u Huluhulu near the base of Mauna Kea. We sat on black lava rock from an old lava flow. (Photo by Joan Dudney)

We met at the bottom of the access road to the summit of Mauna Kea. Here was a tent community of kiaʻi protesting the construction of a new telescope called the Thirty Meter Telescope on the summit of their ancestral Mauna Kea. They were occupying the entry road to prevent construction vehicles from accessing the summit; 33 kupuna (Elders, grandparents, ancestors) were arrested several months earlier marking the escalating tensions between the kiaʻi and the governmental and private institutions involved in developing the Thirty Meter Telescope. The telescope is the continuation of colonialism on Mauna Kea sponsored by 11 nations and universities against the wishes of and providing little economic benefit to kānaka maoli. Not only does construction of a 14th research structure threaten the fragile ecosystems and endangered species at the summit of Mauna Kea, construction also perpetuates a long history of colonization in Hawaiʻi that threatens the cultural, economic, and ecological well being of kānaka maoli.

One of the tents at the protest site. The upside down American and Hawaiian flags represent the kānaka maoli rejection of these colonial powers. The upside down Hawaiian flag can be seen on cars and buildings throughout Hawai’i. (Photo by Joan Dudney)

We listened as Ulu and Noelani described their experiences and perspectives on Mauna Kea and the telescope. Afterward they invited us to participate in midday protocol, and we were humbled by the experience. Protocol is a sacred community building activity that happens every day and consists of oli (chants), pule (prayer), and hula (dance). Non-kānaka maoli were allowed to observe the protocol and were invited to participate in a certain part. We showed our respect to Mauna Kea by standing in our bare feet on the road to her summit for the protocol. In one hula we were sending our energy and strength to Mauna Kea.

As conservation scientists we wanted to show our solidarity with the kiaʻi. We wanted to voice our objections to the Thirty Meter Telescope in terms of conserving the fragile summit ecosystem, and equally important, call for an end to continued colonialist practices in the name of settler-colonizer science. We channelled this energy into a policy statement opposing the construction of the Thirty Meter Telescope on Mauna Kea, which was later adopted by the Society for Conservation Biology. We further reflected on the experience and wondered what first-hand learning we could share with other conservation scientists embarking on anticolonial conservation work. We came up with a series of recommendations for scientists. You can read all of them here. Here are three major ones:

Recognize the ways conservation theory and practice perpetuate the myth that North America was “empty” and “new” upon European “discovery.” For example, the mistaken belief that US National Parks never had human inhabitants despite the fact that Indigenous People have been living in and managing the lands and waters of North America for millennia.
Build authentic relationships with the Indigenous Peoples whose lands we are working on. Realize that settler-colonizer science is not the “correct” or only way of knowing.
Educate ourselves by learning about the history of the Places where we work and live and the Indigenous people affected by colonization. Read books and articles written by Indigenous scholars. Teach ourselves. After you have done the work to learn about the history and people(s), then reach out to Indigenous scholars, land stewards and managers.

We believe that being “for a Place” when you’re not from a Place means respect for Indigenous knowledge, continuous reflection on the consequences of our actions, and a willingness to act with humility, embrace complexity, and maintain hope. We are excited to grow and learn and contribute to the transformation of conservation science into a more inclusive, equitable, and just discipline.

*I capitalized Place throughout to emphasize its importance, akin to a person’s name being capitalized.

The Carnegie Museum of Natural History is on Seneca land and waterways, the homeland of the people we call the Monongahela, and lands and rivers used by and culturally connected to the Lenape, Shawnee, Wyandot, and Osage. I honor these ancestors, am grateful for their stewardship of these lands and waters, and acknowledge and respect their descendants alive today.

Bonnie McGill is a science communication fellow in the Section of Anthropocene Studies. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

Work cited

Steffensen, V. 2019. Putting the people back into the country. In: Decolonizing Research: Indigenous Storywork as Methodology. J. Archibald Q’um Q’um Xiiem, J. B. J. Lee-Morgan, and J. De Santolo, eds. Zed Books (London).

Tsing, A. L. 2005. Friction: An Ethnography of Global Connection. Princeton University Press (Princeton and Oxford).

What Does Climate Change Mean for Western PA Farmers?

Agriculture is many things when it comes to climate change: a source of heat trapping gases, a casualty of extreme weather events, and part of the solution. At Carnegie Museum of Natural History, we’re working with rural communities in western Pennsylvania to talk about climate change in conversations that connect the dots between agriculture as a source of emissions, a sector of vulnerability, and an under explored reservoir of much needed solutions. This work is happening through the Climate and Rural System Partnership (CRSP, which we pronounce “crisp”), a National Science Foundation-funded program involving three CMNH components (the Education Department, the Section for Anthropocene Studies, and Powdermill Nature Reserve), partner researchers at the University of Pittsburgh’s Center for Learning Out of School Environments, and the Mercer County Conservation District. In CRSP, we are using methods of co-production and co-design to develop climate change science and communication resources with our community partners that are relevant to the lived experiences and concerns of those partners’ and their audiences.

How is climate change impacting farmers in western PA? What would help them to make adaptive planning decisions? What mitigation actions are most attractive to western PA farmers and will best help to sustain livelihoods into the future? Are Western PA farmers already, or interested in becoming, climate champions–leading their community in mitigating and adapting to climate change on their farm? How can the museum help? These are some of the questions we are exploring in CRSP.

Working alongside local livestock and row crop farmers, Penn State agriculture extension educators, and representatives of the Natural Resource Conservation Service (the agency formerly known as the U.S. Soil and Conservation Service), and the Mercer County Conservation District (a CRSP network hub), I have the privilege of exploring these issues and co-producing useful communication resources. Co-production is an iterative collaboration involving diverse perspectives to produce locally relevant knowledge and solutions (Norstrom et al 2020, Meadows 2015). Instead of scientists being the sole creators of new knowledge, in co-production all are creators of new knowledge.

Mercer County Conservation District, CRSP partners, and other Mercer area farmers at a soil health workshop and demonstration in a no-till soybean field at Goddard State Park.

CRSP partners and I have started by developing an agriculture working group at the Mercer hub (also called the Shenango Climate and Rural Environmental Studies Team or Shenango CREST). In this group, we have compiled climate thresholds, which are climate data types that are meaningful to the everyday lives of farmers in Shenango River Valley. Global averages are not applicable here, instead we’re looking for things that affect farmers’ decision making or impacts the physical conditions required to operate. To do this, I asked the group “How do we make existing climate data, past and present, most useful? What connects climate to the everyday life of a farmer of both row crops and livestock. What is going to mean something when we talk with farmers in the Mercer area?“ Some of the thresholds that the group identified were: too much rain in the spring for planting crops, too much rain in the fall for harvesting the crops, and warmer winters in which the ground does not freeze leading to problems for soils and livestock.

Here’s an example of how the co-production process works. First, I found the best available data from 11 rural weather stations in the western PA region, each with 80-100 years of daily rainfall and temperature measurements, obtained from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Agency’s Climate Data Online tool. Then, one of the network members identified a climate threshold as how the “July and August heat hurts milk production.” So, I explored the data to see what is happening with summer heat in rural western PA: has it been getting hotter? Will this continue in the future?

The short answer is yes. One analysis I used to explore these questions looks at the daily minimum temperatures. Warming daily minimum temperatures would mean less relief at night for the livestock as well as for crops. So, I conducted statistical analyses, and created a “rough draft” data visualization showing the minimum temperatures per month and the increasing trend over time in all months except April, May, and June (see figure below).

Preliminary analysis and rough draft visualization of monthly minimum temperatures for 1900-2020 from 11 western PA long term weather stations. Numbers at the top of each panel indicate the month. Red lines indicate a statistically significant increase over time. Each gray dot represents one weather station’s monthly minimum for that year.

Regarding dairy cows in the summer heat, this analysis revealed that since 1900 the coolest August nights have warmed 7^oF in our region. Upon seeing this, one of the network members said, “Really great, local data, people can feel like they can trust it.” Another reacted, “Interesting to take a piece of climate change, make it understandable and relatable. Put science to something already happening, a thing they [farmers] are living.” The visualization prompted talk of impacts on milk production as well as changes in calving time, lambs needing shearing more often, and with soils not freezing as much in the winter, hooved animals face a potentially greater parasite load from the mud in the warmer months.

This successful first iteration of CRSP co-production suggests we are identifying climate trends with which local farmers can personally identify. Into the future, climate projections for low and high emissions scenarios show the number of days per year over 90^oF in Mercer County increasing, and highlights how mitigation of climate change now will reduce that increase in temperature.

With these kinds of analyses, the Mercer agriculture working group is aiming for evidence-based and locally relevant outputs in the form of talking points, maps, and graphs about climate change impacts and solutions. We will also collect personal stories of network members and people they know that illustrate a shared experience among people in the region and a hopeful message of climate adaptation and/or mitigation.

Impacts of this work, we hope, will be to bring the narrative about climate change from insurmountable, global, and blaming, to a community-scale conversation that is tractable, local, and hopeful. Within the museum itself, this work will help us better understand how to better serve rural audiences, bridge rural and urban connections (not divisions), and have productive conversations about socio-scientific issues that cut through politicization and misinformation. The diverse connections between climate change and food production provides a “ripe” opportunity to explore how to have such conversations.

Bonnie McGill is a science communication fellow in the CMNH Anthropocene Section. Museum staff, volunteers, and interns are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

Works cited:

Norström, A.V. et al. 2020. Principles for knowledge co-production in sustainability research. Nature Sustainability 3:182-190. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41893-019-0448-2

Meadow, A.M. et al. 2015. Moving toward the Deliberate Coproductin of Climate Science Knowledge. Weather, Climate, and Society 7:179-191. https://doi.org/10.1175/WCAS-D-14-00050.1

Finding Resilience Through Plant Love

Feeling a little extra thankful for spring blooms? Taking extra care of your house plants? Urge to garden a little stronger than usual? People in Pittsburgh and across the US are turning to plants to find solace and a connection to nature this spring of COVID-19. Of course, people have always been drawn to plants, but this spring is different. If you’re not able to garden or are looking for some plant-y inspiration, look no further than PlantLoveStories.com. This is a project started in 2018 by a group of young women conservation scientists–including Dr. Sara Kuebbing, a professor at Pitt and collaborator with CMNH’s Mason Heberling, and me, a science communication fellow in the CMNH Anthropocene Section. At the site you’ll find first-hand stories about how plants have shaped people’s lives along with a sincere invitation for you to share a plant-based story of your own.

The Plant Love Stories logo designed by the author.

In the museum’s Anthropocene Section we believe that storytelling, emotions, and personal connections are keys to connecting with the public, communicating science, and empowering people to act. Plant Love Stories is a great example of these principles. Plant Love Stories was founded on the idea that plants tend to blend into the background and the public pays less attention to them than animals. We thought the public sharing of personal plant connections might lead, down the road, to greater awareness and funding for plant conservation.

The Plant Love Stories website is a blog, a collection of stories submitted by the public about the role of plants in shaping our lives, relationships, and, in a recent post involving swamp milkweed, resilience during the pandemic.

Plant Love Stories in the CMNH Herbarium: A swamp milkweed (*Asclepias incarnata*) specimen from the CMNH Herbarium collected in Allegheny County in 1882.

A number of Plant Love Stories have western PA roots (pun intended). We have a few stories written by Dr. Kuebbing’s Pitt students, including “Learning to Look Up” by Swapna Subramanian and “Fidel and the Hopeless, No-Good, Super Sad Raspberry Bush” by Fidel Anderson. I have posted two Plant Love Stories linked to Indiana County, where I grew up: one I wrote about how I did not break my brother’s arm (really, it wasn’t my fault), and one my aunt wrote about her grandmother, my great-grandmother, teaching her how to cook pokeweed. We also have a human love story from Butler County featuring flowering maple trees.

Plant Love Stories at the CMNH Herbarium: A sugar maple (*Acer saccharum*) specimen from the CMNH Herbarium collected in Butler County in 1925.

Whether you’re planting your biggest ever vegetable garden, tending a single tomato plant, or reading accounts posted on Plant Love Stories, try some plant love to help you get through this difficult time.

Reckoning with Indigenous sovereignty and US public lands through place names in national parks

by Dr. Bonnie McGill

The study: “Words are monuments: Patterns in US national park place names perpetuate settler colonial mythologies including white supremacy”

Making meaning

A closing thought on “wilderness”

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Notes

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Climate Change Myth Busting at the Museum

by Dr. Bonnie McGill

Let me show you how the climate change myth busting resource works. For example, here is one myth we hear a lot:

1. The science bottom line

2. The science in more detail (not a script, simply background information)

3. Ideas for moving the conversation toward solutions

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Warmer Springs and Earlier Birds

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What does it mean to be for a Place?

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What Does Climate Change Mean for Western PA Farmers?

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