This spring, the Northeast and Midwest saw record-breaking heat. California’s recently ended drought was the worst in more than 1,200 years. And temperatures topped 110 degrees during the Pacific Northwest’s now infamous 2021 heat dome, with more than 250 heat-related deaths documented.
As climate change advances, drought and extreme heat plague vast areas of the country. While the Biden administration has taken important steps to address climate change, a key group has been left out of the conversation: Indigenous people.
The original Americans — particularly those of us from the desert southwest — have a millennium’s worth of knowledge to offer on heat and drought mitigation practices, as well as lessons on overall sustainability. The administration should seek to establish a formalized relationship between the National Climate Task Force and Indigenous Nations of America.
My people (Yaqui/Hiaki/Yoeme) historically roamed the area between northern California and the Mexican Yucatan. However, most of our population is concentrated in the Sonoran Desert regions of Arizona and Mexico. This is an ecosystem that we and other groups managed to sustainably cultivate for thousands of years, despite annual rainfall often not exceeding 12 inches.
I was born and raised on tribal lands. My youth was steeped in teachings from community leaders and elders about connectedness and stewardship of the desert we call home. And while many of these teachings took me years to fully understand, I quickly learned to value water as sacred and finite — an easy task when days in triple-digit temperatures outnumber days of rain.
Today, having lived away from my tribal community for more than a decade to train as a scientist and physician and studying environmental science, I have noted major knowledge gaps in the contemporary teaching of climate science. Indigenous knowledge could lend critical insight and perspectives on sustainability. In fact, the value brought to the table by the peoples who first cultivated and adapted to the Americas cannot be overstated.
In the southern Arizona deserts, where the intensity of direct sun prevents many plants from flourishing, Indigenous farmers adapted by planting crops in areas shaded by mesquite trees. The Zuni peoples of New Mexico, like many other tribes throughout the southwest, mastered the construction of adobe homes that stayed warm in winter and cool in summer.
The Tohono O’odham mitigated heat and water waste by using passive rainwater irrigation and selecting environmentally appropriate crops. This included desert-adapted vegetables such as the tepary bean, a high-protein legume suited to the desert thanks to leaves that fold to withstand direct sunlight.
The Haudenosaunee people’s agricultural innovation of planting corn, beans and squash within the same plot, meticulously timed and ordered, created optimal conditions for the staples known as the “Three Sisters.” Corn is planted first to provide shade and structure, followed by squash, whose large leaves further shade the ground, retain soil moisture, and prevent weed formation. Finally, beans are planted to provide nitrogen, fertilize the soil, and stabilize the plot structure by growing along the corn stalks. Completing the regenerative cycle, certain crops are allowed to die and return to the soil to replenish nitrogen stores and serve future generations. In addition to optimizing farm space, this method also conserves water.
These time-honored practices could inform climate adaptation today. And, by acting quickly, we can fulfill the promise of Deb Haaland’s historic appointment as secretary of the Interior. Like many, I hoped that her status and personal connection would manifest more direct collaboration with Indigenous groups, but that has yet to materialize.
One step in the right direction would be to allow Haaland to broker formalized collaboration between the National Climate Task Force and tribal nations such as her own Laguna Pueblo peoples. Collaboration with the National Council of American Indians, which has a committee dedicated to climate change, would be another way to bring the perspectives and voices of Native people to the national stage.
Failure to include Indigenous perspectives in climate action risks further silencing of Native American voices, a history we should not repeat. We should act now, while we still have the time, support and people in place to do so.
Marcos A. Moreno M.D. is a resident physician in the Department of Psychiatry at Yale University. An enrolled Member of the Pascua Yaqui Tribe from the Pascua Yaqui Reservation in Southern Arizona, Moreno is also a Climate Health Equity Fellow with the Medical Society Consortium on Climate and Health.