Six weeks ago, we did a controlled burn across Nan Awaya Farm. We've done burns before, but with this one, even more with than the others, we can see exactly why Indigenous land managers liked to burn their land. This spring, everything is emerald green even though we're in a D1 drought. All kinds of special plant species are popping up, without a mature thorn vine in sight. Even more deer are around than usual, yet no ticks. In the aftermath of this burn, the farm's lands

Range fire has been on the Oklahoma news a lot lately. Under the wrong circumstances, it can ruin or end lives in a hurry. I've always treated fire with respect. Even so, it has escaped on me before. At first, you race to try to smother the small, but growing flames with whatever is at hand. Despite your fastest efforts, it can quickly grow to be more than one person can handle. The flames leap and crackle, expanding out in a circle from every newly ignited spot. Soon, t

Over the past couple of years, we've been working to learn more about traditional hunting. Most language-learners will tell you that if you want to speak Choctaw fluently, books can help, but immersion is the only way to get there. It's the same thing with other parts of Indigenous culture. The best learning often comes when you go out there and try to do the same things the ancestors did yourself. A lot of the things they did weren't easy. Trying to follow their footstep

The traditional cultures of Indigenous communities around the world hold the knowledge to make nearly all of the things needed for everyday life from the local plants, animals, and minerals from their homelands. There is a tremendous amount that we, living in the 21st century, can learn from that when it comes to sustainability, resilience, and community self-sufficiency. Often, these objects - things likes traditional pottery, textiles, and weapons - have far more put into