PASSING ON THE CREATOR’S GIFT: MANOOMIN AND OUR FUTURE

Mille Lacs Band students carry forward the legacy of manoomin, connecting with ancestors, culture, and the land.

Story and photos by Vivian LaMoore, Inaajimowin Editor

"When you are out there on the water today, I want you to think about your ancestors. Your ancestors harvested manoomin in these very same waters hundreds of years ago," said Todd Moilanen, Mille Lacs Band of Ojibwe Director of Cultural Resources, to a group of students from Nay Ah Shing Upper School on September 10, 2025. Throughout September, Moilanen and his cultural team introduced Band members to the art and history of harvesting manoomin.

"Who can tell me why manoomin is so important to us as Anishinaabe?" Moilanen asked.

Excited voices rose all at once:

"It's food."

"It's good for you."

"It's medicine."

"It's fun."

All answers were correct, but one stood out. "It's the reason we are here," a student said. "The Creator told our ancestors to go where the food grows on water."

According to the Ojibwe creation story, ancestors were guided westward by a vision to find "the food that grows in water." Their journey led them to the Great Lakes region, including present-day Minnesota, where they discovered wild rice in abundance.

Manoomin is more than food — it is a relative, deeply tied to the Anishinaabe people's well-being, identity, and heritage. Moilanen has shared this history and cultural significance for years. This year alone, he and his team reached more than 150 people, including students at Nay Ah Shing, Onamia, Isle, Me-shakwad, Minisinaakwaang, Chiminising, Aszhamoog, Brain-erd High School, Milaca, and SUDS programs.

The lessons were lively and engaging. Moilanen explained that rice beds have faced many challenges. During the logging boom of the 1850s-70s, the Rum River - flowing from Mille Lacs Lake through Lake Onamia - became a major waterway for transporting logs to the Mississippi River. This disrupted the rice's growth. By the early 20th century, the once-abundant white pine forests around Mille Lacs had largely disappeared, leading to the decline of logging and a shift toward agriculture and tourism.

As tourism grew, commercial overharvesting in the 1950s and 60s further stressed already depleted rice beds.

Wild rice is also extremely sensitive to climate change. It depends on precise water depth, temperature, nutrient levels, and seasonal timing. Even small disruptions - such as floods during germination or unusually warm water — can reduce seed production and threaten long-term survival. This delicate balance makes wild rice a vital indicator of freshwater ecosystem health in the Upper Midwest.

In recent decades, the Mille Lacs region has quietly revived. Restoration projects by the Mille Lacs Band DNR, in partnership with Minnesota DNR, have breathed new life into rice beds in Ogechie Lake, Shakopee Lake, and Lake Onamia. Adjustments to water flow at the mouth of the Rum River, combined with managed harvest access, have helped the rice rebound. Still, the abundance of each year's crop rests in nature's hands — a reminder of the close bond between this iconic plant and the rhythms of land and water.

"Everything has a spirit," Moilanen said. "Every time before we go out to harvest, we give our aseema to the manidoo and thank the Creator." Each student prepared their aseema before heading out to harvest.

Moilanen demonstrated the difference between immature wild rice and manoomin ready to harvest. "It is illegal for anyone to harvest the manoomin that is not ripe," he explained. While some green grains inevitably fall, he warned students to avoid areas where most rice is still unripe. Holding up a mature bundle, he said, "Look for the rice that looks like this," letting students see, touch, and feel it.

Students new to paddling or harvesting were paired with more experienced peers or teachers, and everyone wore personal flotation devices for safety. On the lake, laughter and conversation filled the air. Paddlers moved steadily while others wielded flails - knockers — striking the stalks. Smiles spread from ear to ear.

As the morning ended and students returned to shore, excitement was palpable. "That was so great," one student repeated. "I am going out again after lunch. I am going to learn to do it better and pass this on to my kids someday."

"This is what it's all about," Moilanen said. "Getting these kids excited about our culture and preserving it for generations to come."

The students also had the opportunity the following weeks to continue the processing of the manoomin through hands-on demonstrations of drying, parching, roasting, jigging/thrashing, and winnowing — experiencing the full circle of bringing manoomin from water to table.

By the end of the day, students had not only learned technical skills - they had touched a living thread of history, culture, and spirit. Every paddle stroke and careful knock of the flail carried forward the legacy of their ancestors. They discovered that manoomin is more than food — it is life, identity, and connection to all that sustains them. And as the sun reflected off the lake, it was clear: in each student's laughter, curiosity, and awe, the Creator's gift was being honored and passed on to the next generation.