BIRCH AND THE BOND BETWEEN US
Benji Sam stands with safely harvested birch.
By Mashkodebizhikigahbaw, Benji Sam
In the humming heart of summer, where birch trees grow tall and wise, old teachings guide careful hands and wisdom from generations past
Blue skies and good times as the sounds of the woods echo with a gentle breeze and the steady rustle of leaves fanning from above, creating a blanket of shade despite the high sun in central Minnesota. The resounding buzz of mosquitoes, black flies, deer flies, horse flies, and just about every other fly you can think of cuts through the air and makes chase to all who walk through the woods this time of year. But alas, it must be done because our teachings passed from generation to generation have said that we must wait to collect birch and basswood inner bark until the thunderstorms of summertime hit and the humidity becomes almost unbearable.
Some of the worst days to want to go outside in the summer make for the absolute best days to go harvest bark. Covered in long sleeves and drenched in DEET, the battle against the bugs is never-ending, and yet we find ourselves submerged in the timber adjacent to water where the paper birch spreads its roots. The unmistakable bleached, white outer bark of the paper birch that almost glows through the woods calls me like a songbird in spring. Like a kid in the candy store, walking through the woods in search of mature, clean, unique birch trees fills my heart with joy beyond measure.
Clean trees can be hard to come by, and mature trees with thick, heavy bark are even more of a rarity at that. This is what makes each tree feel special when venturing out in the early summer humidity, because every tree tells its own story, and each piece of bark removed is picked for its own individual project. The joys of fitting each project to fit each piece of bark is a work of art like the flow of a river meeting a riverbank —the bark decides where to go, and it will always reach the right destination. The funny thing about birch bark is you never know what it is meant to become until you begin to work with it, and it speaks with a voice so true that it cannot be mistaken.
What makes the birch tree so special is that while we, the Anishinaabe of the upper Midwest and Canada, used it for a millennium, we are not the only culture to make use of its wonderful qualities. Birch trees grow across the world, in places that share our same latitude (North and South) in both Europe and Asia, and have been used for baskets, canoes, medicines, writing, and more for thousands of years by Indigenous cultures everywhere who share similar elevation. Yet, across all cultures of the world, all who knew it used it to celebrate art, gather goods for survival, and even boil maple sap down to sugar in our neck of the woods.
When I give talks on birch bark to schools, Indian Education programs, and community events, people are surprised to hold Ojibwe birch crafts because they are often surprised how such a fragile structure can make something so stable like a canoe or basket. And while I must admit, birch bark is a fragile material that must be harvested, stored, and handled with care and respect, it is a piece to the structure itself that binds multiple gentle materials together to create strength. The birch bark canoe, for example, was often regarded as one of the most beautiful creations known to mankind, yet was crafted by materials that seem almost delicate when considered individually. Not unlike we the people, when we all work together and join hands in common goals, we can create an unbelievably strong and durable structure and meet goals beyond ourselves.
I often share that birch bark is so incredible because it regularly outlives the very tree it grew from. When a birch tree rots away and falls to the forest floor from years in the harsh Northwoods, the birch bark survives multiple years beyond the wood and leaving evidence of its brilliant resilience and water repellent nature. These qualities are the main reasons the paper birch harvesting season is one of my favorite activities. It reminds me of simpler times as a five-year-old child going out with my parents and bringing roll upon roll of birch bark to my Grandma Betty for the continuation of her incredible birch bark artwork.
Canoes, picture frames, basket upon basket, and more were celebrated through generation to generations of Ojibwe crafters who aimed to share their craft with the world. I feel incredibly fortunate to have spent time by the side of family members who were known nationally for their work in cultural crafts. Grandma Betty often took me along to help teach birch bark and basswood fiber doll classes across the state to anyone willing to learn. Today, we honor them by sharing and continuing their teachings to youth groups, college classes, community events, and gatherings, and by respecting the resources at hand.
Overall, there is a dwindling amount of mature birch trees in our region while overharvest and birch bough collection bounties pressure the resource and do not allow for trees to reach maturity as they once did. It is our job to harvest responsibly and ethically, so we do not leave our medicines in a worse place than when we found them. We must always remember that if the tree does not give way to the removal of the bark with ease, it is not the time, and the tree is not ready. When done correctly, birch trees will survive decades after healthy bark removal, and their survival in our area may be dependent on our care of the woods that take care of us.
Remember your tobacco, store your rolls with the inner bark out to preserve their longevity, and remember those who walked before us because the way we carry ourselves in the woods honors those who made their journey first. We owe it to them to care for these trees and these woods like our relatives did before us.
