The knowledge and practices of Indigenous Peoples offer more than immediate solutions to climate challenges—they serve as a guiding compass for resilience and healing. Rooted in relational and aspirational values, these teachings emphasize adaptability, community solidarity, and profound connections to one another and the land. Above all, they remind us that resilience is built through mutual aid and the courage to evolve with changing times.
For the Houma, our connection to the Louisiana Gulf Coast and the strong bonds within our community have sustained our culture, health, and identity for generations. Despite enduring countless storms—both physical and metaphorical—our community has persevered because of this deep connection to place. Having lost so much to the storms and flooding, we do not cling to material things; we instead value our relationships to the land, the water, and to one another.
In “Serviceberry: An Economy of Abundance,” Robin Wall Kimmerer (Potawatomi) writes that “all flourishing is mutual,” highlighting that the well being of one is inseparable from the well being of others. This truth is reflected in our way of life: when disaster strikes, we make it through by looking after our Elders, sharing the day’s catch with our neighbors, and rebuilding together, always sharing humor along the way. For us, flourishing does not happen in isolation; it thrives within the bonds of community and shared abundance.
Clayton Verdin, author’s uncle, shrimping on the bayou. Photo by Jecee Morgan-Verdin.
Barriers to the Exercise of Self-Determination
Today, the Houma face an unprecedented challenge: the land that has sustained us for generations is disappearing before our very eyes due to rising sea levels and subsidence. What remains above water has been drastically altered by saltwater encroachment, transforming the plant and animal life “down the bayou.” As a Peoples deeply connected to the land and water, these changes have profoundly impacted our community.
Former Houma Nation Chief, Thomas Dardar, expressed his concern to the U.S. Senate in 2012: “Our homelands are disappearing, and with that land are the stories of our Elders, the bones of our ancestors, and the very cultural fabric that makes up our nation.” Chief Lora Ann Chaisson recalled a visit to her father’s 10 acres, saying, “Where we once stood, there is no land anymore. Where our family lived, there’s no trace of land left.”
As the land disappears, so does the foundation of much of our knowledge, making it increasingly difficult to pass down essential skills, practices, and cultural values tied to the land. Climate-induced displacement leads to language loss, cultural erosion, and a severed connection to ancestral lands, threatening the intergenerational transmission of this knowledge. This is a tragedy that affects not only the Houma, but all of humanity.
Had the United Houma Nation been granted federal recognition, access to funding for climate mitigation might have alleviated some of the devastation we face today. As a state-recognized Tribe, however, this legal segregation deepens the inequities we encounter, limiting our ability to assert our rights and defend our cultural heritage. Furthermore, as a Tribal Nation within the U.S., the Houma are ineligible for support through the Loss and Damage Fund, a global initiative designed to assist nations most vulnerable to climate impacts.
This situation illustrates how entrenched economic, social, political, and systemic barriers constrain Indigenous Peoples’ ability to respond to a rapidly changing environment and protect their knowledge, which holds key solutions to the challenges ahead.
A community service project to assist a Houma citizen with repairs to their home after Hurricane Ida. Photo by Rochelle Morgan-Verdin
Indigenous Peoples’ Knowledge and Free, Prior and Informed Consent
As climate challenges escalate, the role of Indigenous Traditional Knowledge in safeguarding cultural heritage and the environment becomes even more crucial. Fortunately, there is a growing awareness by dominant society of the validity of the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples, with increasing attention placed on its potential to address climate challenges. While the rising interest in Traditional Knowledge is welcome, it is important to recognize that it comes after centuries of systematic efforts to discredit, suppress, and erase Indigenous knowledge systems.
A troubling assumption accompanies this rising interest in the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples, however: that such knowledge is simply a resource to be extracted and utilized, rather than a living, evolving relationship tied to culture and land. As my mentor and friend, former Tribal Chairman Frank Ettawageshik (Little Traverse Bay Bands of Odawa Indians), often reminds me, the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples is not simply information, but instead a way of knowing. It is a holistic, interconnected, and ever-evolving understanding, rooted in the context of community, environment, and spirituality. Western science, in contrast, often treats knowledge as something that is generated by the individual mind—isolated facts or inventions to be patented or commodified—severing it from the broader universal mind that connects all life. This fragmented approach introduces a temporal dimension, confining knowledge to a static, individualistic form that limits its adaptability and depth, preventing it from evolving as a dynamic, collective understanding.
This misconception is often accompanied by another deeply troubling assumption, that Indigenous Peoples are morally obligated to share this knowledge or that this knowledge should be placed in the public domain. These assumptions ignore the core principles of Free, Prior and Informed Consent (FPIC), treating the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples akin to raw data or a commodity to be harvested and disconnected from its cultural, spiritual, and environmental context. This mirrors the same colonial mindset that sought to extract resources from Indigenous Peoples without regard for their rights, continuing the legacy of exploitation and disregard for the sovereignty and dignity of Indigenous Peoples.
The United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples explicitly recognizes the right to FPIC, and more recently, the World Intellectual Property Organization’s Treaty on Genetic Resources and Traditional Knowledge reinforced the importance of disclosing the source of origin when patents are based on genetic resources and associated Traditional Knowledge, directly linking respect for Indigenous rights to the broader global conversation on intellectual property. Together, these international instruments establish a strong framework for recognizing and protecting Indigenous rights, ensuring that the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples is neither exploited nor misappropriated, including in discussions about climate solutions.
Nurturing the “Knowledge Garden”
The ability of Indigenous Peoples to effectively steward their land and safeguard their cultural heritage depends on their capacity to fully exercise their inherent right to self-determination. This self-determination is essential not only for protecting and transmitting knowledge, but also for maintaining the practices that arise from a worldview deeply rooted in a holistic relationship with the land. Practices like controlled burns, wetlands restoration, and traditional fishing have sustained Tribal Nations like mine for generations. When these practices are honored and supported, they offer benefits to Indigenous Peoples as well as the world at large, particularly in the context of ongoing climate challenges.
Rather than seeing western science and the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples as opposing or incompatible, or calling for the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples to be “integrated into” western science, the true potential lies in their collaboration. Kimmerer offers a compelling vision of this partnership through the metaphor of a “knowledge garden,” where the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples and scientific tools grow together side by side, much like the traditional practice of planting corn and beans. This partnership is not about merging facts or subordinating one knowledge system to the other, but about creating a space where both ways of knowing can nourish one another and ultimately thrive together.
Much like sewing together the strands of our traditional Houma fishing nets, this collaboration weaves together the knowledge of Indigenous Peoples and western science, enriching our collective capacity to adapt and thrive. Together, they create a world where both knowledge systems grow side by side in a mutually supportive relational web that mirrors the interconnectedness of nature itself.
Rochelle Morgan-Verdin is a proud citizen of the United Houma Nation. She holds a master’s degree in International Law and Human Rights and a bachelor’s degree in Latin American and Caribbean Studies.
Top photo: Sunrise on the bayou in Dulac, Louisiana. Photo by Rochelle Morgan-Verdin.
