What If the Land Could Teach Us?

As we mark Native American Heritage Day, I’d like to share this adaptation of my recent essay on the work of Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg academic and artist, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson. Simpson is First Nations from Canada, who has lectured extensively in the US, and her ideas share similarities with many Native American communities who have lived in close relationship with the land for many generations.

In her book As We Have Always Done, Simpson tells the story of Binoojiinh, a child who discovers maple syrup by observing a bird in the branches of a tree, guided by the gentle encouragement of her community. This tale encapsulates her vision of ‘land as pedagogy”: a process rooted in kinship with the natural world, where land serves not merely as a backdrop for learning, but as an active participant. It’s a striking contrast to the structured, outcomes-focused education systems many of us know, where learners are often separated from nature and their own intuitive ways of knowing.

I approach Simpson’s concept of "land as pedagogy" from a Western academic framework, seeking to explore what we might learn from the Indigenous worldview: How can Simpson’s insights broaden our understanding of education in today’s technological age?

Land as pedagogy challenges the traditional framework of Western educational theory. The traditional model pioneered by psychologist Urie Bronfenbrenner, places the individual at the center, with the environment acting upon them in concentric layers. Simpson flips this dynamic, positioning the learner and the land in a reciprocal relationship where each shapes the other. Learning becomes not just cognitive but deeply spiritual, fostering a transformation of the self in relation to the world.

Arguably, this approach lacks the structure necessary to ensure equitable learning outcomes, especially in skills like reading and writing that demand systematic instruction. Early education in the West emphasizes the importance of scaffolding—of guiding learners to the next step in their development through carefully calibrated support. Without this structure, could critical skills be left to chance?

Still, parallels exist between Simpson’s vision and alternative models within Western education. The Montessori method, for example, emphasizes child-led exploration, nurturing of the child’s inner world or ‘psyche’, and the role of the environment in fostering growth. These principles demonstrate that holistic, student-centered learning can succeed in modern contexts, challenging the notion that traditional Western systems are the only viable path to education.

What strikes me most is Simpson’s insistence on the spiritual dimension of learning—a concept often absent from mainstream education. For Simpson, true knowledge emerges from dreams, ceremonies, and rituals, connecting learners to the land in profound ways. This challenges the separation of religion and education that defines much of the Western approach, raising difficult questions about how such practices might be integrated into contemporary schools.

Perhaps, though, the value of Simpson’s work isn’t in offering a universal model of education but in expanding our collective imagination. By embracing multiple ways of knowing, including Indigenous pedagogies, we open the door to richer, more inclusive educational practices. Simpson and her contemporaries remind us that education is not just about preparing children for the workforce; it’s about nurturing humans who are deeply connected to their communities and the natural world.

On this Native American Heritage Day, I invite you to reflect on what education could be if we dared to reimagine it. As Simpson’s work shows us, the land has much to teach—if we are willing to listen.

Tanyella Allison Leta

Recommended Reading: 

• Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s As We Have Always Done

• Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass