Robin Wall Kimmerer's Braiding Sweetgrass begins with a description of the Indigenous practice of braiding sweetgrass. In this description she speaks directly to the reader, inviting us to braid with her.
"Hold out your hands and let me lay upon them a sheaf of freshly picked sweetgrass, loose and flowing, like newly washed hair. . . . Will you hold the end of the bundle while I braid? Hands joined by grass, can we bend our hands together and make a braid to honour the earth? And then I'll hold it for you, while you braid, too" (x).
Together we hold the grass. But we do not own it. The grass--wiingaashk--"belongs to herself" (x). Kimmerer's book is a braid of "healing stories" "woven from three strands: indigenous ways of knowing, scientific knowledge, and the story of an Anishinabekwe scientist trying to bring them together in service to what matters most" (x). She turns to stories as a sort of medicine "for our broken relationship with earth" (x). What I am struck by in her description of braiding sweetgrass is the craft of it; it is something that is done best when two people work together. The "holder," Kimmerer writes, is "as vital as the braider" (ix). If we consider Kimmerer's metaphor of the sweetgrass as a story, the holder of the story--the person who listens--is as important as the teller. What role do we play not just as people who might write about climate change, but also as people who read these stories? What is our responsibility to the stories we read? How do we ensure that stories retain their bond with the earth, the teller, and the holder? Is it helpful to you think of a story as something you hold in your hands?
What role do we play not just as people who might write about climate change, but also as people who read these stories?
I think that it is important to have an open mind when it comes to climate change since people who write about climate change should read these stories that connect them to others. Stories tell messages and messages are what people who write about climate change want to spread. Like the sweetgrass, we need to be together to hold it together. Stories need to have tellers and those who listen.
Is it helpful to think of a story as something you hold in your hands?
The works of any writer connect you to their world. A world full of intimacy and guidance through the emotions they have felt in their lives. I feel as if it is important to refer to a story as something that can be held in your hands because it is not ours. As it says above in response to the quote about braiding sweet grass, “together we hold the grass. But we do not own it. The grass — wiingaashk — “belongs to herself.”” This connects to how the authors emotions and stories are their property, one that they are willing to share with us…
What is our responsibility to the stories we read? I think one of our responsibilities to the stories we read is to pass them on to someone else. One of the best things that we can do for the Earth is to ensure that people are educated about the ways that we can help. I think it’s important that we not only read these stories, but also retell them, and pass on information that will help in the fight against climate change. In the context of “Braiding Sweetgrass”, people should try to be both the braider and the holder – be the listener, but also be the reader by retelling these stories to others.