Anishinaabeg Culture and the History of Manoomin
Ricing at Mitchell Dam, White Earth 1961
It is Manoominike-Giizis, the wild rice moon, and the lakes teem with a harvest and a way of life. “Ever since I was bitty, I’ve been ricing,†reminisces Spud Fineday, of Ice Cracking Lake. Spud, with his wife Tater, rice at Cabin Point, and then move to Big Flat Lake, lakes on Minnesota’s White Earth Reservation. “Sometimes we can knock four to five hundred pounds a day,†he says, explaining that he alternates the jobs of “poling and knocking†with his wife, Tater, a.k.a. Vanessa Fineday. The Finedays, like many other Anishinaabeg from White Earth, and other reservations in the region, continue to rice, to feed their families, to “buy school clothes and fix carsâ€, and get ready for the ever returning winter. The wild rice harvest of the Anishinaabeg not only feeds the body; it feeds the soul, continuing a tradition that is generations old for these people of the lakes and rivers of the north. While Spud Fineday, remembers ricing since he was a child, it is a community event, a cultural event, which ties the community intergenerationally to all that is essentially Anishinaabeg, Ojibwe. As the story is told, Nanaboozhoo, the cultural hero of the Anishinaabeg was introduced to rice, by fortune, and by a duck; “One evening Nanaboozhoo returned from hunting, but he had no game… As he came towards his fire, there was a duck sitting on the edge of his kettle of boiling water. After the duck flew away, Nanaboozhoo, looked into the kettle and found wild rice floating upon the water, but he did not know what is was. He ate his supper from the kettle, and it was the best soup he had ever tasted. Later, he followed in the direction that the duck had taken, and came to a lake full of manoomin. He saw all kinds of duck and geese and mudhens, and all the other water birds eating the grain. After that, when Nanaboozhoo did not kill a deer, he knew where to find food to eat….†Scientists say that with their radiocarbon dating of wild rice pollen, they have determined that Minnesota wild rice stands “predate by l000 years the prehistoric cultures that were known to have used itâ€. Indeed, that knowledge is contained within the oral history of the Anishinaabeg. Manoomin, or wild rice is a gift given to the Anishinaabeg from the Creator, and is a centerpiece of the nutrition and sustenance for our community. In the earliest of teachings of Anishinaabeg history, there is a reference to wild rice, known as the food which grows upon the water, the food, the ancestors were told to find, then we would know when to end our migration to the west. It is this profound, and historic relationship which is remembered in the wild rice harvest on the White Earth and other reservations-a food which is uniquely ours, and a food, which is used in our daily lives, our ceremonies, and our thanksgiving feasts.
Spud and Tater Ricing at White Earth, 2001
Manoominike: Making Wild Rice
The crispness of early fall touches my face as we paddle through the rice on Blackbird Lake. Four eagles fly overhead, and a flock of geese moves gracefully across the sky. Through the rice, I can see officers of the law, ensconced in their work. They are ricing. Eugene Clark, a.k.a. Beebzo (Ogema Mayor and Becker County Deputy Sheriff), and John MacArthur, a Mahnomen County Sheriff are Anishinaabeg, and they are police officers. Today they are continuing the harvesting tradition. As they move swiftly through the rice bed, MacArthur is knocking and Clark is poling. Clark started ricing at 14, and is 53 now; MacArthur as well began ricing as a teenager. “We’re out here to eat, not to make money,†they tell me they are ricing for their families. That day, they brought in a couple hundred pounds of green rice. Ronnie Chilton is working at the Native Harvest rice mill, finishing that rice. He too has a long connection to ricing. “I’ve riced my whole life, most of the time with my dad.†He equates ricing, as a part of his family’s tradition as well, and sometimes wishes out loud he were on a lake instead of in the rice mill. Historically, during ricing season, families would camp at the lakeshore for weeks, ricing during the day, and bringing the rice back to shore to be processed. Wild Rice was traditionally parched in a large iron kettle over a wood fire. The Rice needs to be constantly stirred so as not to burn the rice. Once the rice is parched it is laid out to cool, and then it is jigged, or danced on to remove the hulls. A shallow pit was dug next to a tree or a support, and young men and boys would put on their moccasins and gently dance on the rice to remove the outer hull. Once thoroughly jigged, the wild rice was then put into a large birch bark basket, and winnowed, gently tossing the rice in the air, using the wind to separate the hulls from the finished wild rice. Today, the rice camps no longer exist, but rice is still processed in a traditional manner, using intermediate technology. Rice is parched a couple hundred pounds at a time, over a wood fire in large cast iron barrels. Paddles inside the barrels turn the rice constantly; it is then laid out to cool. Once cool, it is put into a small thrashing machine, which uses rubber paddles to take off the outer hull. Then using a fanning mill, the hulls are separated from the rice, leaving the finished rice. There are only a few wild rice mills on the White Earth reservation – a consequence of a number of factors; competition from agribusiness, decline in water quality, and, probably the greatest factor—the wage economy. Ronnie Chilton and Pat Wichern, along with Russell Warren are three of the main processors on White Earth today. Ronnie and Pat work for a community group – Native Harvest and Russell, who processes for himself, works for retail sales, often the tribe, and some individuals. To these men, and many others in the community, locally processed lake harvested, Native rice is about doing it right, community pride, and the essence of being Anishinaabeg.
Green Rice in Canoe, Rice Lake, White Earth, 2005
Slow Food Award: Protecting biodiversity and a way of life
In November of 2003, the White Earth Land Recovery Project was one of ten International recipients to receive the prestigious International Slow Food Award for the Defense of Biodiversity. The project was recognized for its work to preserve wild rice, biodiversity, and restore local food systems on the White Earth reservation, and joined projects from Ethiopia, Madagascar, England, Australia, Burkina Faso, Brazil and a host of other countries in receiving the award. Margaret Smith and Winona LaDuke, both of the White Earth Reservation received the award on behalf of the White Earth Land Recovery Program, attending a series of events, and the award ceremony at the historic San Carlo Theatre in Naples. “It’s wonderful that we are doing this,†remembers Margaret Smith, who at 86 took her first trip across the ocean. “A long time ago, slow food, gardens, cooking, and working outside were part of our everyday life. I think it is good to get back to those values.†The project received the award for its work to oppose the genetic modification and patenting of wild rice, and for working to promote hand-harvested natural wild rice. The Slow Food Movement began in l986 in Italy, and the international movement was founded in 1989 in Paris. The underlying premise is “a movement for the protection of the right to taste.†With the international offices located in the village of Bra, in Italy, today there are around 60,000 members internationally, including a large organization here in the US, Slow Food USA. The Movement is organized by “convivia†or local grassroots collections, and today has convivia in 83 countries.