Braiding Sweetgrass: Chapter 15 Summary & Analysis

This chapter is divided into sections as if it were a scientific article. The “Introduction” briefly describes the aroma of sweetgrass in the wild. “Literature Review” then follows Lena, a Potawatomi elder who is an expert gatherer of sweetgrass. As she wanders the meadow with Kimmerer, she looks for certain glossy plants that seem to shine as if they want to be found and picked. Whenever she picks the sweetgrass, she first leaves an offering of some tobacco and says a few words. “It would be rude not to ask first,” she tells Kimmerer.

Lena explains that she was always taught to never pick more than half of the plants, and sometimes she doesn’t harvest at all, but only checks on the sweetgrass. She repeats her grandmother’s teaching that “If we use a plant respectfully it will stay with us and flourish.” As they leave the meadow, Lena leaves a mark to show other sweetgrass pickers that she has already been there, so they don’t pick any more plants. She complains about some pickers who pull up the roots along with the grass, and Kimmerer notes that she has been with people who did that too—but they also only took half and left gifts of tobacco.

In the next section, “Hypothesis,” Kimmerer explains that sweetgrass has been disappearing from its usual habitat, so the basket makers wanted to know if these different ways of harvesting might be the cause. Kimmerer was initially reluctant to investigate, as she sees sweetgrass as a gift, not the subject of a scientific experiment. She doesn’t want to force the “teachings of grass” to fit the rigid requirements of scientific thinking and writing—and here she references the sections into which she has divided the chapter itself. At the same time, she feels a responsibility to sweetgrass. She decides to go forward with an experiment, but she knows that it must speak the language of scientists if it is to be accepted by them. She proposes her idea as a thesis project to her grad student Laurie, who accepts.

The next section, “Methods,” begins with Robin introducing Laurie to Sweetgrass in the wild and familiarizing her with its smell and appearance. They then design experiments to compare the two harvesting methods that the basket makers use: pinching the grass off above the roots, or pulling the whole plant up. Kimmerer notes that she sees experiments in botany as “conversation[s] with plants.” She would never claim to really “discover” anything as the result of these experiments—which she compares to Christopher Columbus “discovering” America—because “experiments are not about discovery but about listening and translating the knowledge of other beings.”

Kimmerer says that her academic colleagues might not think of people like Lena as scientists, but her process of harvesting half the sweetgrass and observing the long-term results seems very scientific to her. In producing her own experiment, Laurie has to present her thesis idea to a committee of faculty members. She makes her case, which essentially hinges on a theory based in Indigenous wisdom: that “if we use a plant respectfully, it will flourish.”

Laurie remains calm and defends herself, but later she bursts into tears. Robin remembers doing the same thing herself, thinking back to all the condescension she has endured over the years as a woman scientist, and even more so as one interested in traditional wisdom. She recognizes that scientists like the dean have been conditioned to be skeptical of anything that doesn’t come with extensive quantitative data, and that this combines with the general assumption that “science has cornered the market on truth.” Nevertheless, she and Laurie decide to press on with their sweetgrass experiment.

First they choose several sweetgrass stands to observe, and Laurie takes a census of every plant. For the experiment, they harvest one group by pinching the plants off at the stem, a second by pulling the plant up by the roots, and a third patch is left untouched as a control group. Laurie recognizes that she’s not really replicating the traditional harvest, as she doesn’t speak to the plants or make an offering, but she is okay with this—she feels that such a relationship cannot be measured by a scientific experiment, and also that she as a non-Indigenous person isn’t “qualified to speak to sweetgrass.”

Despite trying to remain scientifically objective in this way, Laurie admits later that she did develop a real fondness and respect for the sweetgrass that she worked with. The experiment goes on for two years, with Laurie charting and measuring every plant in the three groups, sometimes with the help of some student interns.

The next section is titled “Results.” By now Laurie is pregnant with her first child, but she continues at her work of harvesting and measuring the sweetgrass. As the pregnancy progresses, she feels that her time with the sweetgrass is good for the baby, and she also gains more and more respect for the traditional knowledge of the harvesters that she talks and works with. The experiment comes to a close soon after the baby is born. Laurie compiles the data and examines it closely, but the results are also clear to see with the naked eye: the harvested sweetgrass stands look healthy and glossy, while the untouched control group looks brown and sickly.

Even though they were harvesting half of the plants in the two experimental groups, new shoots quickly grew back to replace them, whereas in the control group the older plants choked off the potential for new growth. “Picking sweetgrass seemed to actually stimulate growth,” Kimmerer says. Laurie makes sure that her data is airtight and presents her results to the faculty committee: the professors who dismissed her from the start.

In the next section, “Discussion,” the faculty committee talks with Laurie about her findings, asking her how she can explain that harvested sweetgrass flourished while untouched sweetgrass declines. She recognizes that there has been little research done on the relationship between Indigenous harvesters and sweetgrass, but there are scientific precedents for this in other grasses who respond well to fire or grazing. Many grasses undergo “compensatory growth” when they are harvested or otherwise disturbed—for example, by free-ranging buffalo—which means that they grow back faster to make up for their losses, and in turn attract the buffalo back months later.

Robin and Laurie wonder if the current decline in sweetgrass populations is the result of underharvesting, not overharvesting. They examine a map of sweetgrass populations created by a former student and see that the only locations that are still thriving are those clustered around Indigenous communities known for basket making.

Kimmerer recognizes that science and traditional knowledge sometimes seem to be in conflict with each other, but she believes that they may “converge when both truly listen to the plants.” Still, Laurie has to present her findings in wholly disconnected, technical language. At least recognizing their own language, the scientists give Laurie a round of applause as she finishes her presentation. The basket makers who are also in attendance just smile and nod their heads—they’ve known this all along.

Kimmerer says that through this experiment, the sweetgrass showed how we can best respect it: by harvesting it with restraint and gratitude. Sweetgrass was the first plant that Skywoman planted on Turtle Island, she says, and it continues to exhibit cycles of reciprocity, as the very act of accepting its gift—harvesting it properly—becomes a gift of its own by stimulating new growth. Kimmerer then acknowledges that even the most respectful harvesting is not beneficial to all plants—the key “is to know them well enough to respect the difference.”

The brief section called “Conclusions” reiterates “the lesson of grass,” which is that “through reciprocity the gift is replenished. All of our flourishing is mutual.” The “Acknowledgments” section describes the words of the wind moving through the sweetgrass and Kimmerer’s desire to say “thank you” in return. Finally, the “References Cited” names Wiingaashk (sweetgrass) along with “Buffalo, Lena, the Ancestors.”