By JEFFREY BLACKWELL
Center for the Study of World Religion

(Published April 16, 2025)

A salty breeze blowing in from the Pacific shore of Vancouver Island caught the smoke of a blazing campfire, where a unique gathering of Harvard students, researchers, and First Nations peoples sat and listened to the Pacheedaht Elder share stories about the lands of his ancestors.

“You come here to plant the seeds; you come here to learn and ask questions about us,” said Elder Bill Jones, 84, reaching out with his hands to the visitors and Indigenous locals. “You are welcome on this land.”

The smoke rose through the canopy of towering evergreens as Jones recounted his childhood experiences, his ancestors, his time as a young logger, and his efforts to protect territories today. This welcoming around a sacred fire through Indigenous protocol began a six-day immersive trip for 14 University students, researchers, and educators who traveled to Vancouver Island in Canada’s Pacific Northwest to engage in cultural sharing with Indigenous knowledge holders, scientists, and artists.

“We were taught to think in a way that our culture guides us,” said Jones. “Then we go there and share. We are all contributing through what modern people call their spiritual search. We come into this world to share and give of ourselves to the all.”

A pilgrimage of discovery

The practice of pilgrimage often involves a journey into an unknown land, undertaken by individuals seeking to discover new understanding and meaning through the portal of experience. In six intensive days, these Harvard travelers explored old-growth forests alongside First Nations leaders, experienced the profound language of ancient trees and the natural environments of plants and fungi, and learned from the Indigenous peoples who have lived in harmony on these lands for thousands of years before colonization.

The trip was part of the Center for the Study of World Religions (CSWR) Thinking with Plants and Fungi initiative (TWPF) at Harvard Divinity School, made possible by the generous support of the V. Kann Rasmussen Foundation. The TWFP initiative engages in academic research and explores the connection between plant and fungal life and the human relationship with these natural environments. This pilgrimage into tribal lands and traditions was also facilitated by a partnership with the Awi’nakola Foundation, an Indigenous-led organization based in Victoria focusing on blending arts and sciences to protect Indigenous territory and sovereignty.

“I am so pleased and proud that the Thinking with Plants and Fungi initiative offers HDS students and staff this rare opportunity to learn from the Awi’nakola Foundation and its Indigenous leaders,” said Professor Charles Stang, Director of the Center for the Study of World Religions and Professor of Early Christian Thought. “We hope there are other such opportunities for partnership.”

Most field trip participants are members of the bi-weekly TWPF Reading Group, which is led by Natalia Schwien, FAS PhD student, MTS ’21, who serves as the TWPF Advisor and Program Associate. The group was co-founded with Rachael Petersen, MDiv ’24, TWPF Program Lead.

“We wanted to bring students and community members into the field to directly experience the themes we explore in a hands-on manner,” said Petersen. “In a word, the trip’s intention and purpose were reciprocity. I refer to this in terms of our relationship with the land, the plants, and our partners. We were very mindful of not just wanting to helicopter in and out but actually engaging and offering our perspectives, skills, and services while being attentive to the landscape and attuned to the various plants, fungi, and trees present.”

Awi’nakola’s leadership served as guides, working with local Indigenous Elders and leaders to uphold local protocol and seek permission for the Harvard group to engage in place-based learning, as well as observe and participate in ceremonial gatherings. 

Makwala – Rande Cook is a founding director and director of the arts at the Awi’nakola Foundation. He is also a multimedia artist and hereditary chief of the Ma’amtaglia. 

“I think what excites me about this exchange is the curiosity and that they’re leading with a place not only curiosity but compassion,” said Cook. “I think that makes it easy to be a welcoming host. I know sometimes, through trauma, we protect our spaces more than anything, and we have barriers and put up walls, but I feel it’s been very open; I feel like it’s been very natural.”

Enveloped by the trees

The Trans-Canadian Highway is the major north-south artery on Vancouver Island, connecting Victoria in the south to the island’s remote northern communities. The winding two-lane road vines through spectacular stands of tall, moss-covered trees and rushing creeks and rivers running through a valley between the rocky high ground. 

Goldstream Provincial Park is about 10 miles northwest of Victoria. At highway speeds, the entrance looks like nothing more than a rest stop with a parking lot and a public bathroom. But the nearly 1,000-acre park is an enchanting forest of 600-year-old trees, rare flowers and plants, and wildlife, including bears, bald eagles, and deer that don’t scurry at the sight of the Harvard pilgrims hiking up the paved service road. 

“I can remember the color of the day we entered the forest. The trees were covered with bright green moss, and there was such rich diversity. Everywhere you looked, there was something different,” said Melissa Wood Bartholomew, Associate Dean for Diversity, Inclusion and Belonging, Harvard Divinity School. “What struck me most was the trees’ height, and their strength, and their coverage. I felt like I was in a portal. I was in a different world.”

Researchers at the University of Toronto recently discovered that in the soil, plant roots engage with fungi on a molecular level in an exchange of phosphates for the plant with carbon for the fungi. So, the natural forest environment seems to have a path for communication.

However, the trees, plants, fungi, and wildlife also communicated with the field trip members. One by one, they placed their open hands on the thick-ridged bark or their arms around the massive trunk of a 600-year-old Douglas fir tree. Several wandered deeper off the trail to see the moss growing on a fallen tree. 

“My motivation for coming on this journey was to cultivate a relationship with the trees and develop an intimacy with them. I wanted to learn more about them and how they relate to each other and support each other. I went into the forest so that I could hear from the trees and be instructed by them on how we can become better humans and heal our relationship with nature and each other,” said Bartholomew. “They nurtured me and fed my spirit.”

Members of the Awi’nakola Foundation led the excursion into Goldstream Provincial Park. The organization’s leaders also guided the group into unceded Indigenous lands, worked with Indigenous Elders and leaders, and amplified the voice of the First Nations peoples’ efforts to protect native lands and culture. Petersen said the partnership with Awi’nakola ensured that members of the group honored the living protocols of being on the land and respectful social interactions.

“First Nations peoples have protocols that dictate how you structure social interactions, how you are welcomed,” she said. “Awi’nakola was very kind in ensuring that we were honoring protocol everywhere we went, which included having a formal welcome by a representative of the Indigenous group that was native to the land that we were on. I felt very humbled by the generosity of spirit of everyone who welcomed us with kindness, humor, and gratitude.”

At Goldstream Park, the group met with ZȺWIZUT  Carl Olsen, a W̱sáneć Elder and long-time volunteer with Goldstream Hatchery, who formally welcomed the group to the territories. On Tuesdays each week for nearly three years, he has led a group of peaceful protesters speaking out against a road project near the park’s entrance. 

He said nearly 700 trees would be cut down to widen the highway, which would have a devastating effect on the ecology of the parkland and the salmon spawning grounds in the Goldstream River. Eliminating the tree canopy could raise the water temperature and kill the young salmon before they mature.

The W̱sáneć and other First Nations harvest the salmon each season after allowing most to spawn. An Indigenous village once stood near the park’s entrance; the park restroom now occupies the site of the W̱sáneć longhouse.

“That’s why we are here every Tuesday,” said Olson, holding a ‘Save our Salmon’ sign near the highway. “When the government wants to sit down and negotiate with us, these are the things we will bring up. I know they have given parklands back to tribes. That’s my wish; give us back the land, and let us take care of it.”

Field trip member Grace Gallagher is a first-year MDiv student at Harvard Divinity School. She focuses her studies on the human relationship to land, specifically the spiritual connections humans share with animals, plants, and fungi. She was particularly struck by the connections Indigenous peoples have to the land and environment.

 “Their kinship orientation to the plants, and especially the cedar and the salmon and the bears and the fungi, are all relating to them so that they’re in a community interconnected with the natural world, and how that gives them the basis to build this community,” said Gallagher. “Not only do they need the property back, or need the certain area of land back, but they want their relationship with the land back.”

Gathering community to sacred traditions

On the grounds of the Royal British Columbia Museum in Victoria stands the Mungo Martin House, Wawadiťła, a Northwest Coast-style Gukwdzi (Big House) built by Chief Nakaṕankam (Mungo Martin) in the 1950s. The traditional tribal gathering place is authentic in construction, with a dirt floor anchored by a round fire pit in the center. 

The log walls are lined with wooden bleachers. Four large carved totems support the roof, which is open at the center to allow the smoke from the fire pit to vent outside. The exterior of the structure bears hereditary crests of Mungo Martin’s family. 

On the trip’s final day, the group was invited to a Kinship Gathering at the Big House by Awi’nakola and Martin’s grandson, Chief Oasťakalagalis´Walas Namugwis (hereditary chief David Mungo Knox of Fort Rupert). The annual gathering, organized by the foundation, is a meeting of First Nations community members, advocates, researchers, and others to share the latest information about new efforts and programs, progress reports about existing programs, and to voice concerns and possible solutions about the community.

The agenda is loose, and the reports are presented orally and often without notes or a script. One person or a group stands in front of the gathered, speaking from the heart over the crackle of the fire. The day includes a feast for the participants, ending with cultural offerings—song and dance.

“Let us ignite a movement of restoration and renewal. Let us honor the past, engage the present, and courageously envision a future where both people and the land thrive in harmony,” said Awi’nakola Founder Rande Cook to the gathering. “Together, we will reshape a new legacy grounded in respect, resiliency, and regeneration. This gathering brings communities together to share and reach for pathways forward.”

Awi’nakola is working on many fronts to protect native lands and reconnect First Nations peoples to their sacred traditions, lands, and communities. Ultimately, Cook said it’s a 500-year plan to heal the land and people.

For the Harvard field trip members, the gathering culminated a week-long immersion into the deep connection between the Indigenous people of Victoria Island and their native lands. The Awi’nakola and Indigenous leaders helped them see the issues of colonization through the eyes of Native people and how many are turning grief into action.

“I think of grief as the great composter of life. It is a way for us to transform the loss of our love back into love,” said Gallagher, who has applied to intern with Awi’nakola this summer. “And never before had I interacted with an organization that did those things better than Awi’nakola. It’s so exceptional to watch people so connected to the land recognize the important work that grief holds in saying goodbye to their trees, and in doing so, bringing the community back together.”

The Kinship Gathering opened with part of a grief ceremony that began at a previous gathering in the summer of 2024 for clear-cut forests by logging companies operating on Vancouver Island. The ceremony, called a Sała, is a traditional mourning tradition of words and songs. It consists of five songs, the last of which is a “putting away of sadness.”

“In our culture, we never hold on to our grief too long; we have a very intensive expression of grief when people pass away, and then we let it go. We don’t carry it with us,” said Matthew Ambers, with the Namgis First Nations. “There is so much work to do, but we cannot do it with sadness or anger in our hearts. But eight months ago, we did not sing the last song because our grief was so immense it could not be dealt with because the loved ones we were dealing with were the trees, the plants, and fungi that were destroyed in that forest. So, we left that portal to the spirit world open to feel the sadness. Now it is time to close that portal.”

Spreading the seeds

Remembering the first day when Elder Bill Jones sat at the head of the fire circle and shared a song his mother sang to him as a boy became a memorable moment for the Harvard pilgrims as they traveled back to Boston. 

“It’s called the sockeye salmon song, and I’ve forgotten all the words,” Jones said. “But it says, ‘bring the bones to the river,’ and that means return what you don’t use to your great mother and only take what she gives you. We come into this world to share and give of ourselves to all. It’s our job to share these stories.”

That idea of sharing experiences and knowledge struck a chord with members of the Harvard group. Each day provided new insights about the environment and the people connected to the lands through millennia of sharing stories and traditions.

“I feel like we’ve given you a glimpse this week, not only at the history of colonization, resource extraction, and the devastation of that harm, but also how Indigenous people were treated to get resources,” said Cook. “My hope is that students who come sit and listen to Indigenous people will feel and empathize with not only understanding the struggle, but also where we want to be and what we’re saying as Indigenous people. Our work requires us as a collective to work together.”

Standing in the smoky Mungo Martin House after the song and dancing ended and the group photos were snapped, Petersen said the last day’s events reminded her of the cellular communication between the trees, plants, and fungi. 

“What came into my mind was mycelium, the underground fungal networks that connect trees and plants and share nutrients,” she said. “Because during that gathering, so many different groups were present as partners working together. So, I hope students take away the importance of such a diverse network, both in social action and ecology. We see that ecosystems are most healthy when diverse and have many different partners working in tandem.”