Nacho Land

There is another thing that bothers me about the concepts of “home” and “sense of place”: Do we even have a right to claim any understanding of the landscape, let alone ownership of it? What qualifies as home when you have stolen the land? How do you, personally, and we, collectively, reconcile our participation in the damage done, or at least halt the continuing destruction and disrespect? First, we have to accept that we are part of colonialism, without shrinking and shaming. Somewhere between illicit pride and Christian Nationalism, and paralyzing regret over what our ancestors started, lies a path to humility and true progress.

IndigenousPeoplesResources.com

With all due respect to Woody Guthrie, this land is not your land. It belongs to Indigenous peoples who occupied the continent prior to European settlement (read “theft”).By this measure, none of us who are White can call the United States, Canada, Australia, South Africa, or any number of other countries “home.” We cannot say we have reverence for a “sense of place” in our nature writing when our residency has no legitimacy.

Before Independence, and even after it, for that matter, parts of the United States were settled by empires other than the British. The French and Spanish had significant territories, of course. The Dutch also had a presence. In the southern U.S. in particular, someone of British descent might be third in line for claims to ownership.

It should b evident by now that empire and colonialism have never benefited the land, its ecosystems, or even the vast majority of settlers themselves. Instead, those manifestos have punished and exterminated Indigenous peoples, enslaved others, and extracted natural resources, to advance the wealth and power of a select few.

Meanwhile, capitalism has gone hand-in-hand with colonialism, promoting the idea, in theory, that one can achieve private individual ownership of property, including land. Public ownership of land varies greatly from state to state. I grew up in Oregon, where federal lands account for 53% of all acreage. State ownership adds another three percent. I now live in Kansas, where 98% of land is in private hands. This does not necessarily translate to ownership by Kansas residents. Between 2015 and 2023, absentee ownership of Kansas agricultural lands increased by three percent. Kansans owned 71% in 2015, but only 68% in 2023.

Increasingly, foreign ownership of land in the U.S. is on the rise. This is especially true for mining companies in Canada. Absentee ownership in the industrial sector has frequently resulted in severe environmental damage, and often increases in chronic illness in surrounding communities.

In urban locations, private equity is now precluding home ownership by the average citizen. Private equity firms outbid other real estate entities with lucrative cash offers, buying houses in bulk, to be rented out. Again, these corporate enterprises are usually absentee owners, often with little interest in maintenance and upkeep of their widely-dispersed properties.

It is no coincidence that the people telling us that land has no value until humans build something on it, or pave it over, or plow it under, are the same people telling us that our country would be better off if we killed the homeless, eradicated the LGBTQ+ community, deported immigrants (undocumented or not, apparently), and celebrated White supremacy. They benefit from culture wars that distract us from solving real problems, allowing them to profit beyond their wildest dreams. We know better. Reparations look a lot like land back, and fair housing for all.

It is obvious, from science and spirituality, that the Earth owns us, not the other way around. It is interesting that so-called pagan religions have more of a grasp of this than their Christian counterparts. In order to effect lasting change, I would argue that we need to invite Indigenous people into our public and private institutions, then promote them into positions of leadership, authority, and power. When we have more Indigenous leaders in our collective spaces, we can begin to learn the ways of properly living on the land, and engaging fairly with all citizens.

Sources: Dehlinger, Katie Micik. 2023. “Minding Ag’s Business: Land Ownership and Foreign Investment Trends in Kansas,” Progressive Farmer.
Mayyasi, Alex. 2025. “Here’s what happens when private equity buys homes in your neighborhood,” Planet Money Newsletter (NPR).

The Colonist I Am

It is not commonplace for anyone to acknowledge their ignorance of, or complicity with, colonialism, in either a historical context or in the present day, but here I am, about to do exactly that. Some of our political leaders, and I use that word with great sarcasm, would prefer we remain uneducated, and our children left in the dark as well. It is up to each of us to confront our own blind spots and inadvertent participation in continued colonialism and racism. The overwhelming aspects of both are subtle and insidious, most of the time.

Someone on my late father's side of the family did our genealogy, and traced our New World roots to the Mayflower, quite literally. There were one hundred and two passengers, and a crew of thirty more, on that famous ship, which landed on the shores of Cape Cod, Massachusetts in 1620. A year prior, a different ship, the White Lion, brought the first African slaves to a colony in Virginia. Slaves of Spanish explorers coming to North America predate the English transport by nearly a century. My forefathers may not have started the fire, but they made no effort to extinguish it, either.

Somewhere between inappropriate pride in a White heritage, and shame and guilt about the past, there must be a plan of personal action to rectify injustices.

Did any of my ancestors actually own slaves? I have no idea, though it might be worth exploring. I would be interested to know if my family tree has any ties to Indigenous Americans, too. Is it necessary, though, to have a personal stake in the history of slavery to have empathy for the enslaved, the imprisoned, the opressed and murdered? I think not. Somewhere between inappropriate pride in a White heritage, and shame and guilt about the past, there must be a plan of personal action to rectify injustices. This applies even if you have not personally committed some overt act of bigotry, or incidental trespass. It begins with self-evaluation.

In creating a presentation recently for an organization of entomologists, it occurred to me how much overlap there is between environmental devastation and racism and colonialism. I asked myself why the scale of agriculture has intensified, beyond the Industrial Revolution, which amplified the Agricultural Revolution through mechanization, and now automation. Is it because we cannot feed the world any other way? No. In fact, those of us in the Western Hemisphere have an expectation that other nations feed us first, and themselves second.

I drink coffee. I love chocolate....Do my choices in the mareketplace make me a colonist all over again? Still?

Mea culpa. I eat bananas. I drink coffee. I love chocolate, and I no doubt consume my fair share of products made with palm oil. I enjoy pineapple on occasion. These crops have traditionally required deforestation to clear the land for their vast plantations. That is an environmental holocaust, but it also impacts indigenous human populations in a negative fashion. Where they are growing export crops they are not growing food for themselves.

Do my choices in the marketplace make me a colonist all over again? Still? Maybe. I have some soul-searching to do, some critical decisions to make if I do not wish to contribute to poverty and economic colonialism.

Being an ally to Black and Indigenous people here at home requires a different kind of effort. First, we have to commit to educating ourselves. Beyond Black History month, we need to examine the impediments that we have erected, on purpose or by ignorance, that prohibit or discourage participation in our workplaces, our public spaces, and neighborhoods and communities. In short, being an ally does not begin and end with joining protests over the most recent death at the hands of law enforcement, or other racist hate crime. The "everyday racism" is more difficult to detect and takes more work to eliminate.

If we can afford to finance wars, militarize the police, subsidize certain industries and corporations, and protect those with excessive wealth through tax legislation, then we can damn well afford reparations.

At a national level, there is talk of extending reparations: tangible financial benefits for the descendants of slaves. That puts the onous on Black people to prove they are related to former slaves. In my opinion, reparations should be made to Blacks, period, as they continue to face racism. I would also argue that reparations be given to Indigenous Americans. As it stands now, Whites are still mostly deciding where Indigenous and Black Americans can live, what jobs they can hold, and what rights they can enjoy.

Can we afford to pay reparations? If we can afford to finance wars, militarize the police, subsidize certain industries and corporations, and protect those with excessive wealth through tax legislation, then we can damn well afford reparations. You know where this is going. We should be paying reparations instead of financing endeavors that only serve to enrich those who are already wealthy.

As a Caucasian, cis, straight male, I do not feel threatened in any way by the idea of empowering those who have faced nothing but adversity for centuries on end. To the contrary, I believe my life is enriched beyond measure by knowing people of all identities. I learn from them, and I am a better, more sensitive and empathetic human being for it. There is no down side.

Learning how I can effectively participate in decolonization and anti-racism is an ongoing journey I have barely embarked on. With my White privilege comes the luxury of time to think, read, and listen. You, dear reader and follower, are invited to contribute your input, start conversations, and otherwise advance our collective goal of diversity, equality, and inclusion.

The Changing Conversation Around Invasive Species

Recently, the debate about invasive species has become more polarized than ever, with a degree of defensiveness and anger not seen previously. The reasons for this are many, some difficult to admit to.

Chinese Clematis may be invasive, but it deserves a less bigoted name.

I attended a webinar a few weeks ago in which the presenter asserted that “invasive species” is a “militarized term.” My instinctive reaction was that this was accusatory, bordering on defamation of science, when there is clear evidence that the introduction of a species to a new ecosystem can have devastating consequences.

Spongy Moth is still a bonafide forest pest, but now has a more appropriate moniker.

Pondering his comment further, it occurred to me that most of the animals, and plants, we label as invasive have some sort of obvious and negative economic impact. We have, as a consumer culture, become conditioned to frame everything in terms of business and monetary interests rather than ecological concerns. This has become more complicated by angst over climate change, and the resulting vulnerability of humanity to emerging threats, be they viruses or “murder hornets.”

© Yasunori Koide and Wikimedia Commons. Asian Giant Hornet only "murders" in the beehive, but is a serious threat to apiculture because of that proclivity.

The sudden, and/or overwhelming appearance of a novel organism is going to cause alarm, and the public seldom has comprehensive, appropriate knowledge for interpretation of potential impacts. We are at the mercy of what news outlets tell us. Because traditional print, radio, and television media now compete with social media, sensationalism is the order of the day. “Click bait” banners prevail over more accurate but less provocative headlines.

© Kim Fleming and Bugguide.net. Joro Spider, Trichonephila clavata, is not currently considered invasive.

Initial forecasts can also be premature. The jury is still out on whether some recently-introduced species will become problematic. They may not. The Joro Spider is a case in point. It is locally abundant in some parts of the southeast U.S., but whether this translates to a displacement of native spiders remains an unanswered question.

We collectively have a fascination with heroes and villains, too, and there are no more menacing villains than alien-looking insects, spiders, and other arthropods. Fantasy melds with reality and it becomes difficult to separate the two if you are not scientifically literate, or have a business model that demands public hatred of a particular creature.

© USDA ARS, public domain. Spotted Lanternfly, Lycorma delicatula, adult and nymphs. This species is a potential agricultural pest of serious magnitude.

In opposition to nativism is the idea that there is no such thing as invasive species. After all, man is part of nature, and therefore our actions are natural processes. The outcomes of those activities are circumstances to which we, and other species, will adapt.

It may be no coincidence that a backlash against the idea of invasive species is more evident now that we are recognizing, and attempting to mitigate, a history of colonialism. A convincing argument could be made that White settlers are the original invasive species. Here, in North America, we annihilated and displaced Indigenous members of our own species. We enslaved others. To this day we continue missionary work and other forms of colonialism. Therefore, the idea of invasive species becomes one of self-loathing, certainly an eventual threat to White supremacy and privilege. White people do not want to see themselves as villains.

Meanwhile, we demonize human immigrants and refugees as criminals and threats to domestic labor pools. We clamor for the closure of borders to our fellow humans, but allow our boundaries to be permeated by everything else. Not that human-imposed boundaries reflect natural ones.

The Cross Orbweaver, Araneus diadematus, is an example of a naturalized arachnid in North America.

Scientists have an uphill battle in resolving these opposing perspectives and initiating constructive dialogue. Looking to the past we see how some species from foreign lands have become “naturalized” over time, becoming innocuous additions to our flora and fauna. The average citizen may be shocked to learn that dandelions are not native to the U.S. They have become a fixture in our lawnscapes, even if we are instructed to use weed-killers against them.

Myrtle Spurge, aka "Donkeytail," Euphorbia myrsinites, is classified as a noxious weed in some jurisdictions, but not everywhere.

What is lost in all of this is attribution of the modern problem of invasive species to global consumer culture. Historically, human colonists brought other species with them as a guarantee of food and other necessary resources when venturing into unknown territory. Soon after, those species and their products became valuable in trade, a way to establish meaningful and positive relationships with Indigenous peoples, or other settlers. The pace of travel was slow, and the scale of enterprise miniscule compared to twenty-first century business.

Today, we mostly covet plants and animals of far-off lands. Plants, especially, can harbor potential insect pests. Thecontainers used to transport international commerce are frequently occupied by insects, rodents, and other organisms. We seldom make that connection between our consumer habits and the state of ecosystems around the world.

Captive Reticulated Python. Release of unwanted Burmese Pythons into the Everglades by irresponsible pet owners has been....problematic.

We cannot turn the clock back, but we should make more informed and conscientious individual choices in the marketplace. We should promote the welfare of Indigenous peoples, and actively seek their counsel and leadership in crafting a world better able to withstand climate change. A permanent end to colonialism would not be a bad thing, either.