Transcript
Following is an asynchronous virtual conversation held between myself, Sardonyx, Bonita Ford, Paul Sokoloff and Nathan Stevens-Cocco on the topic of herbariums from September 3-September 23, 2026.
Why Herbariums?
Kim: I’ve been having mixed feelings about herbariums, and how they show up in large archives and museums. Could you talk a bit about the different roles herbariums can play in different spaces and for different people? (e.g. species migration, climate change, etc)
Bonita: I’m thinking of the scrapbooks I made for my niece and nephew. There were blank pages of bristol board with a few envelopes glued in. The kids really enjoyed “meeting” the plants in my garden, making leaf rubbings on white paper, writing the name and any notes about a plant, and then gluing the paper into their books. For me, it was a way of giving each of them learning experiences and–because I like “collecting” things and most kids do too–to have a collection of these experiences. They brought their scrapbooks back to my garden and on a picnic we had, so it was a portable way to look back and save our learning together.
Sardonyx: I also like “collecting” things, Bonita! It gives a physical reminder for me of a memory, feeling, meeting, a new friend in a way that feels very special when just words or thoughts aren’t enough. When I was younger I would fill my pockets to the brim with rocks, acorns, shells and then would even carry some in my hands once my pockets were full. But whenever it was time to go home, my parents would make me put back most of the things I picked up. I think that’s where the mixed feelings come in. It kind of seems extractive looking back when I think about wanting to keep all the pretty things for myself. So I think there’s a lot to consider with herbariums and the responsibility that comes with curation.
Paul: Since my initial exposure to herbaria was through coming to the Canadian Museum of Nature as a student, my first concept of them is as a resource - a place where people (back then, professionals, students, and scientists interested in the evolution and naming of plants, algae, and fungi). Like any resource, a herbarium is only as useful as the people associated with it are helpful, and I was very fortunate to meet a herbarium team who were patient, encouraging, and generous with their time and knowledge. In my own experience I have found herbaria to inhabit one of two extremes - the open model I described above where users are welcomed in, and a more closed model (an old fashioned one), where the curatorial team sees themselves as gatekeepers and arbiters of the specimens and the knowledge they hold. To me, it seems that the latter herbaria usually have trouble maintaining relevance these days; open herbaria are usually more open to change and adaptation to different times and ways of doing things, and seem better equipped to meet the needs of a wider array of herbarium-lovers. In this way, collections have opened their doors to ecologists working on herbivores, artists illustrating nature, and knowledge holders seeking out important species. Usually, these herbaria are more likely to share their holdings more freely too - at least digitally, and usually through physical loans too. I suspect that the curatorial teams of these open collections carry more of a “stewardship mindset”, as opposed to a sense of “ownership”.
Bonita: I really appreciate that distinction, Paul. Rather than “ownership”, I love the intention of “stewardship” in community. It’s making me think of an open herbarium as “a commons”, where people in the community could come to learn and share. For example, if a particular plant has been eradicated in a region, whether due to changing ecosystems or a changing climate, I would really value knowing that someone had preserved a specimen that the community could still learn from.
Nathan: My own personal experience with herbariums has deeply and profoundly changed my relationship with plants. I have always been a naturalist but plants were my “last frontier” and I only really began appreciating them and their diversity later in life as a teenager and into my 20s. I am immersed with plants whenever outside but sometimes there is a slight loss of connection during the winter when we are not regularly appreciating their vibrant colours. My relationships with them are less severed because I continue to spend time with them nurturing that relationship year-round. I understand not everybody has this opportunity which is why personal herbaria’s and bound herbaria’s are so fantastic!
Bonita: I’m thinking of the scrapbooks I made for my niece and nephew. There were blank pages of bristol board with a few envelopes glued in. The kids really enjoyed “meeting” the plants in my garden, making leaf rubbings on white paper, writing the name and any notes about a plant, and then gluing the paper into their books. For me, it was a way of giving each of them learning experiences and–because I like “collecting” things and most kids do too–to have a collection of these experiences. They brought their scrapbooks back to my garden and on a picnic we had, so it was a portable way to look back and save our learning together.
Sardonyx: I also like “collecting” things, Bonita! It gives a physical reminder for me of a memory, feeling, meeting, a new friend in a way that feels very special when just words or thoughts aren’t enough. When I was younger I would fill my pockets to the brim with rocks, acorns, shells and then would even carry some in my hands once my pockets were full. But whenever it was time to go home, my parents would make me put back most of the things I picked up. I think that’s where the mixed feelings come in. It kind of seems extractive looking back when I think about wanting to keep all the pretty things for myself. So I think there’s a lot to consider with herbariums and the responsibility that comes with curation.
Paul: Since my initial exposure to herbaria was through coming to the Canadian Museum of Nature as a student, my first concept of them is as a resource - a place where people (back then, professionals, students, and scientists interested in the evolution and naming of plants, algae, and fungi). Like any resource, a herbarium is only as useful as the people associated with it are helpful, and I was very fortunate to meet a herbarium team who were patient, encouraging, and generous with their time and knowledge. In my own experience I have found herbaria to inhabit one of two extremes - the open model I described above where users are welcomed in, and a more closed model (an old fashioned one), where the curatorial team sees themselves as gatekeepers and arbiters of the specimens and the knowledge they hold. To me, it seems that the latter herbaria usually have trouble maintaining relevance these days; open herbaria are usually more open to change and adaptation to different times and ways of doing things, and seem better equipped to meet the needs of a wider array of herbarium-lovers. In this way, collections have opened their doors to ecologists working on herbivores, artists illustrating nature, and knowledge holders seeking out important species. Usually, these herbaria are more likely to share their holdings more freely too - at least digitally, and usually through physical loans too. I suspect that the curatorial teams of these open collections carry more of a “stewardship mindset”, as opposed to a sense of “ownership”.
Bonita: I really appreciate that distinction, Paul. Rather than “ownership”, I love the intention of “stewardship” in community. It’s making me think of an open herbarium as “a commons”, where people in the community could come to learn and share. For example, if a particular plant has been eradicated in a region, whether due to changing ecosystems or a changing climate, I would really value knowing that someone had preserved a specimen that the community could still learn from.
Nathan: My own personal experience with herbariums has deeply and profoundly changed my relationship with plants. I have always been a naturalist but plants were my “last frontier” and I only really began appreciating them and their diversity later in life as a teenager and into my 20s. I am immersed with plants whenever outside but sometimes there is a slight loss of connection during the winter when we are not regularly appreciating their vibrant colours. My relationships with them are less severed because I continue to spend time with them nurturing that relationship year-round. I understand not everybody has this opportunity which is why personal herbaria’s and bound herbaria’s are so fantastic!
Practices/Uses
Kim: In some ways, the notion of a herbarium feels absolute and singular, feeding into the domination/control narrative of humans over nature. To me, the ‘protocoled’ nature of the herbarium - drying, pressing, labelling (often in Latin), referencing - doesn’t support the relationship-building that I wish was more present in engaging with and meeting different plants.
At the same time, my own learning journey in the world of forestry has carried a lot of excitement around getting to know different leaf shapes and bark patterns, and the practice of making my own herbariums has really helped me to remember and spend time with different species. Being able to walk in the forest and recognize and understand a bit better who else was there was really exciting for me.
Bonita: I think that’s why I’ve enjoyed doing leaf rubbings as a way of getting to know plants: it’s so tactile. For a lot of people, it takes practice to learn how to identify plants. So, having a tactile way of learning and observing the shape and texture of a leaf is really helpful.
On the nature walk that Sardonyx and I led together, I started by inviting people to tune into their five senses. At various points, when Sardonyx stopped to introduce the group to a plant, I invited us to not only look at the leaf, but also to feel, smell, and taste it (if it was edible). Our purpose that day was to offer folks practices for self-care while learning about plants. Focusing on our senses is a simple way to bring ourselves into the present moment and into an embodied experience. Also, it helps people get to know and remember a plant.
Sardonyx: I feel like Bonita described the leaf rubbings really well from our walk. This activity and our hike in general was more about all of the things and experiences that just a latin name and a leaf under glass won’t tell you. And I agree, Kim, the assembly line of herbarium dressing doesn’t seem to facilitate relationship-building all too much. If anything, I think it can serve to alienate and separate people further from nature. Your average person isn’t going to relate to acer saccharum but I think they can relate a lot more to sugar maple. On my walks, I try my best to explain some of my naturalist knowledge in plain language and through stories, jokes and connections as a way of being (hopefully) a bit more accessible and relatable.
Paul: I think I might have a slightly different opinion in that - when done well - the creation of a herbarium specimen can be a tool to help people become more familiar with a plant - and can build a personal relationship with it. As everyone has mentioned, the standard herbarium collection practice, including prescribed ways of pressing, data collection, and accessioning, is established as a protocol for scientific specimens, and in that way may not be accessible to a wide range of people. That said, people have been pressing plants for as long as we realized it would preserve them in two-dimensionality, so folk herbaria (for lack of a better word) abound - and in this way plant-pressers are widening their knowledge based on what plants spark their curiosity. In educational settings, I have used this impulse-to-botanise as a way of introducing collecting and collections-based research to groups with a wide range of backgrounds. I’ll usually show how I collect, and have a wide range of pre-pressed plants ready for participants to mount on sheets of paper. They are then welcome to add any information they like, and to illustrate the sheets to their preference - they are then laminated and kept by the participants as their own herbarium sheet. It's fascinating to see how this personalization of a herbarium helps to break down the barrier between collector and object.
Kim: This is so cool, thanks for sharing all of your experiences and perspectives! Paul, your reframe is giving me an idea for the exhibit - I was thinking of having some leaves on the table to do leaf rubbings and I wonder what would happen if we invited people to collectively build an “exhibit herbarium” with your sensory prompts, Bonita and Sardonyx!
Nathan: In my personal experience herbariums offer so much opportunity for connection and building relationships. I knew very little about less common species until I began spending time in herbariums and I have learned so much and have been so inspired by so many rare and lesser known species. I am often an advocate for these species as, similar to charismatic megafauna, or cute and cuddly, there are plant equivalent biases, such as flowers, vibrant colours, soft vs prickly, spines, toxins, common and urban species, parasites etc., where people often discriminate. I almost am also inclined to say it is one of least extractive practices we do in nature compared to resource extraction. If collected ethically as far as the ⅓ rule: never take more than a ⅓, leave ⅓ for the plant to reseed itself and leave ⅓ to share with non-human beings. Removing one or a few individuals from a population isn’t really any less extractive than removing its leaves or fruits. I have struggled with this concept as well and although it seems very extractive to remove these individuals and place them in a vault for perpetuity they are actually quite critically important for conservation and sustainability. Just for species conservation alone, if there was never any good-willed botanists trying to document range extensions or disjunct populations, new to species to a region etc., we would not be properly informed at what areas need conservation the most, which species habitats and ecosystems are most vulnerable/susceptible to habitat loss, climate change, biodiversity loss etc. They are also conserving genetics by collecting individuals that may have unique and novel resistances to certain diseases and pathogens(beneficial mutations). We might have never known that the species was present at all, even historically in this location or habitat. If someone never collected it, we would never have any record of it being there, especially if it no longer occurs there in modern times due to habitat degradation/loss and/or anthropogenic climate and habitat change.
At the same time, my own learning journey in the world of forestry has carried a lot of excitement around getting to know different leaf shapes and bark patterns, and the practice of making my own herbariums has really helped me to remember and spend time with different species. Being able to walk in the forest and recognize and understand a bit better who else was there was really exciting for me.
Bonita: I think that’s why I’ve enjoyed doing leaf rubbings as a way of getting to know plants: it’s so tactile. For a lot of people, it takes practice to learn how to identify plants. So, having a tactile way of learning and observing the shape and texture of a leaf is really helpful.
On the nature walk that Sardonyx and I led together, I started by inviting people to tune into their five senses. At various points, when Sardonyx stopped to introduce the group to a plant, I invited us to not only look at the leaf, but also to feel, smell, and taste it (if it was edible). Our purpose that day was to offer folks practices for self-care while learning about plants. Focusing on our senses is a simple way to bring ourselves into the present moment and into an embodied experience. Also, it helps people get to know and remember a plant.
Sardonyx: I feel like Bonita described the leaf rubbings really well from our walk. This activity and our hike in general was more about all of the things and experiences that just a latin name and a leaf under glass won’t tell you. And I agree, Kim, the assembly line of herbarium dressing doesn’t seem to facilitate relationship-building all too much. If anything, I think it can serve to alienate and separate people further from nature. Your average person isn’t going to relate to acer saccharum but I think they can relate a lot more to sugar maple. On my walks, I try my best to explain some of my naturalist knowledge in plain language and through stories, jokes and connections as a way of being (hopefully) a bit more accessible and relatable.
Paul: I think I might have a slightly different opinion in that - when done well - the creation of a herbarium specimen can be a tool to help people become more familiar with a plant - and can build a personal relationship with it. As everyone has mentioned, the standard herbarium collection practice, including prescribed ways of pressing, data collection, and accessioning, is established as a protocol for scientific specimens, and in that way may not be accessible to a wide range of people. That said, people have been pressing plants for as long as we realized it would preserve them in two-dimensionality, so folk herbaria (for lack of a better word) abound - and in this way plant-pressers are widening their knowledge based on what plants spark their curiosity. In educational settings, I have used this impulse-to-botanise as a way of introducing collecting and collections-based research to groups with a wide range of backgrounds. I’ll usually show how I collect, and have a wide range of pre-pressed plants ready for participants to mount on sheets of paper. They are then welcome to add any information they like, and to illustrate the sheets to their preference - they are then laminated and kept by the participants as their own herbarium sheet. It's fascinating to see how this personalization of a herbarium helps to break down the barrier between collector and object.
Kim: This is so cool, thanks for sharing all of your experiences and perspectives! Paul, your reframe is giving me an idea for the exhibit - I was thinking of having some leaves on the table to do leaf rubbings and I wonder what would happen if we invited people to collectively build an “exhibit herbarium” with your sensory prompts, Bonita and Sardonyx!
Nathan: In my personal experience herbariums offer so much opportunity for connection and building relationships. I knew very little about less common species until I began spending time in herbariums and I have learned so much and have been so inspired by so many rare and lesser known species. I am often an advocate for these species as, similar to charismatic megafauna, or cute and cuddly, there are plant equivalent biases, such as flowers, vibrant colours, soft vs prickly, spines, toxins, common and urban species, parasites etc., where people often discriminate. I almost am also inclined to say it is one of least extractive practices we do in nature compared to resource extraction. If collected ethically as far as the ⅓ rule: never take more than a ⅓, leave ⅓ for the plant to reseed itself and leave ⅓ to share with non-human beings. Removing one or a few individuals from a population isn’t really any less extractive than removing its leaves or fruits. I have struggled with this concept as well and although it seems very extractive to remove these individuals and place them in a vault for perpetuity they are actually quite critically important for conservation and sustainability. Just for species conservation alone, if there was never any good-willed botanists trying to document range extensions or disjunct populations, new to species to a region etc., we would not be properly informed at what areas need conservation the most, which species habitats and ecosystems are most vulnerable/susceptible to habitat loss, climate change, biodiversity loss etc. They are also conserving genetics by collecting individuals that may have unique and novel resistances to certain diseases and pathogens(beneficial mutations). We might have never known that the species was present at all, even historically in this location or habitat. If someone never collected it, we would never have any record of it being there, especially if it no longer occurs there in modern times due to habitat degradation/loss and/or anthropogenic climate and habitat change.
Names
Kim: I think part of my resistance to traditional herbariums is also the presumed assignment and singularity of truth/fact/knowing, and one of the sticky points in particular for me is names. As a trans nonbinary person I feel deeply how important names are, and the importance of being known - but also being known on multiple or fluid levels, and being known in relation.
Part of what I’ve learned from Indigenous Storywork during my research while creating this exhibition has been reflecting on how a story changes in each telling, and how stories change when we share them with different people. One of the trickiest parts of an exhibition context is that the storysharers and exhibit components remain fixed, while the visitors/story receivers will be changing. To many, knowing and using the name of a plant can be a sacred thing (especially in Indigenous languages) but often I think this is when the name is exchanged, gifted, trusted, and learned in relation.
This whole thought spiral led me to wonder, how could we create an herbarium experience that moves away from ‘tree ID’ per se, and move towards ‘tree meeting’ and relationship building?
Bonita: Ooh, I love the idea of story receivers changing. I wish the folks on our walk could experience this conversation and then do another walk with us. I’d be so interested to hear how people’s perceptions and relationships with plants in general have changed since being invited to meet them in a more embodied way.
Also, I LOVE “tree meeting and relationship building”! I’ve now lived on the same little piece of land for over 16 years. I didn’t grow up “relating” to plants. I learned this way of being while living here, prompted by some Indigenous elder-friends, and also directly from the plants. Over the years, my relationships with the plants have changed and deepened. Sometimes they are like my babies, and other times, they are like my elders. Before moving here, I had a vague conceptual idea of what it means to “be part of a place”, though now I experience it in how I live.
In the way I personally relate to the plants here, their names are not so important now. I give them nicknames. LOL. And I “talk” to them silently, so at that point, they don’t really require a name.
At the same time, I find that names are really practical for human communication. It helps folks who are learning about plants to be able to talk and ask questions about them later. Also, on a trip to France years ago, I remember talking with my sister-in-law about edible and medicinal plants in her garden. Knowing the botanical names in Latin gave us a big shortcut, so we knew if plants were related or if we were talking about the same plant.
Sardonyx: Oh absolutely! And I think getting to know plants by whichever way people are relating to them is meaningful and important. I’m thinking of the idea that people might fear what they don’t know. Maybe some people avoid going out near the woods because of a fear of poison ivy but once they have met the plant and know how to identify it, it might not be so bad. Who’s to say plants only have one name anyways? Plants have always had many names (and nicknames as Bonita pointed out haha). I remember hearing some friends talk about bachelor’s buttons and I was thinking something like “oh, I can’t wait to meet that plant!” and finally I came to realize that I was growing this plant already and just knew it by its other common name, cornflower. Also, different languages will have different names for plants. On our walk, we met common plantain and there was a little moment that clicked for one of our participants who was from Slovenia and how they recognized that plant from their country.
I also LOVE “tree meeting and relationship building” <3 I think it’s one thing to be able to identify a tree but it’s another to befriend it and treat it more like kin. We’d be dead if it weren’t for plants. Life would be so boring without them. And I am deeply concerned about our future. Personally, I think the idea that we are separate from nature is a total myth (and a dangerous one at that). If we take away that relationship and instead see plants as something outside of ourselves to dominate/ control/ tame/ civilize/ colonize, it can lead to environmental collapse and destruction.
Paul: This is really interesting - and I love (love!) building a relationship with a plant on a personal level (I even have tattoos of some of my favourites - a different kind of relationship). I can absolutely see how an explicit framework for naming (i.e. latin nomenclature) can prevent people from accessing that knowledge, especially if it seems arcane (i.e. latin nomenclature, again).
I also am a strong proponent of these names as ways of easing communication - between people, between languages, and between knowledge systems. I’ve always believed that these systems can and should co-exist, but that we need to be better at translating these words and concepts between people and systems so that there are multiple points of entry into knowing a plant. I often say at talks “it doesn’t matter to me how you talk about a plant, I’m just happy to want to talk about this plant with me”. Maybe, in that way, names can take on a new meaning as ways we talk about a plant with each other - not as dry scientific codes, but as multi-faceted entities, where we can only fully know a plant by building relationships with other people who see different aspects of it. In this way, we can talk to the plant and each other.
Bonita: I’m resonating with what Sardonyx said about befriending a plant and treating it more like kin, and what Paul said about multiple points of entry into knowing a plant, which includes tattoos. Haha. Actually, this conversation is like Paul suggested: we’re relating to different people, which is showing us different aspects of how we relate to plants. I really like how meta our discussion has gotten. :-)
Nathan: A mentor of mine (Eleanor Thomson) once told me that common names are just folk names and we are the folk so we can name them whatever we want. Binomial nomenclature is merely only for differentiation between species. VASCAN lists over 31,000 different kinds of plants that are found in Canada and it is difficult to build a personal relationship with more than 31,000 different species. Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of Braiding Sweetgrass said that plants, the land, the water and the rocks are all non-human beings that deserve our respect, just as much as human beings. We also have a shared responsibility to ensure that these non-human beings will still be around seven generations from now. First Nations names for plants often include a description of the plant's ecology and/or biology or the name of the plant may refer to its uses, whether traditional or medicinal. Indigenous plant names are often based on the nature or behaviour of the plant and how it can be used.
Part of what I’ve learned from Indigenous Storywork during my research while creating this exhibition has been reflecting on how a story changes in each telling, and how stories change when we share them with different people. One of the trickiest parts of an exhibition context is that the storysharers and exhibit components remain fixed, while the visitors/story receivers will be changing. To many, knowing and using the name of a plant can be a sacred thing (especially in Indigenous languages) but often I think this is when the name is exchanged, gifted, trusted, and learned in relation.
This whole thought spiral led me to wonder, how could we create an herbarium experience that moves away from ‘tree ID’ per se, and move towards ‘tree meeting’ and relationship building?
Bonita: Ooh, I love the idea of story receivers changing. I wish the folks on our walk could experience this conversation and then do another walk with us. I’d be so interested to hear how people’s perceptions and relationships with plants in general have changed since being invited to meet them in a more embodied way.
Also, I LOVE “tree meeting and relationship building”! I’ve now lived on the same little piece of land for over 16 years. I didn’t grow up “relating” to plants. I learned this way of being while living here, prompted by some Indigenous elder-friends, and also directly from the plants. Over the years, my relationships with the plants have changed and deepened. Sometimes they are like my babies, and other times, they are like my elders. Before moving here, I had a vague conceptual idea of what it means to “be part of a place”, though now I experience it in how I live.
In the way I personally relate to the plants here, their names are not so important now. I give them nicknames. LOL. And I “talk” to them silently, so at that point, they don’t really require a name.
At the same time, I find that names are really practical for human communication. It helps folks who are learning about plants to be able to talk and ask questions about them later. Also, on a trip to France years ago, I remember talking with my sister-in-law about edible and medicinal plants in her garden. Knowing the botanical names in Latin gave us a big shortcut, so we knew if plants were related or if we were talking about the same plant.
Sardonyx: Oh absolutely! And I think getting to know plants by whichever way people are relating to them is meaningful and important. I’m thinking of the idea that people might fear what they don’t know. Maybe some people avoid going out near the woods because of a fear of poison ivy but once they have met the plant and know how to identify it, it might not be so bad. Who’s to say plants only have one name anyways? Plants have always had many names (and nicknames as Bonita pointed out haha). I remember hearing some friends talk about bachelor’s buttons and I was thinking something like “oh, I can’t wait to meet that plant!” and finally I came to realize that I was growing this plant already and just knew it by its other common name, cornflower. Also, different languages will have different names for plants. On our walk, we met common plantain and there was a little moment that clicked for one of our participants who was from Slovenia and how they recognized that plant from their country.
I also LOVE “tree meeting and relationship building” <3 I think it’s one thing to be able to identify a tree but it’s another to befriend it and treat it more like kin. We’d be dead if it weren’t for plants. Life would be so boring without them. And I am deeply concerned about our future. Personally, I think the idea that we are separate from nature is a total myth (and a dangerous one at that). If we take away that relationship and instead see plants as something outside of ourselves to dominate/ control/ tame/ civilize/ colonize, it can lead to environmental collapse and destruction.
Paul: This is really interesting - and I love (love!) building a relationship with a plant on a personal level (I even have tattoos of some of my favourites - a different kind of relationship). I can absolutely see how an explicit framework for naming (i.e. latin nomenclature) can prevent people from accessing that knowledge, especially if it seems arcane (i.e. latin nomenclature, again).
I also am a strong proponent of these names as ways of easing communication - between people, between languages, and between knowledge systems. I’ve always believed that these systems can and should co-exist, but that we need to be better at translating these words and concepts between people and systems so that there are multiple points of entry into knowing a plant. I often say at talks “it doesn’t matter to me how you talk about a plant, I’m just happy to want to talk about this plant with me”. Maybe, in that way, names can take on a new meaning as ways we talk about a plant with each other - not as dry scientific codes, but as multi-faceted entities, where we can only fully know a plant by building relationships with other people who see different aspects of it. In this way, we can talk to the plant and each other.
Bonita: I’m resonating with what Sardonyx said about befriending a plant and treating it more like kin, and what Paul said about multiple points of entry into knowing a plant, which includes tattoos. Haha. Actually, this conversation is like Paul suggested: we’re relating to different people, which is showing us different aspects of how we relate to plants. I really like how meta our discussion has gotten. :-)
Nathan: A mentor of mine (Eleanor Thomson) once told me that common names are just folk names and we are the folk so we can name them whatever we want. Binomial nomenclature is merely only for differentiation between species. VASCAN lists over 31,000 different kinds of plants that are found in Canada and it is difficult to build a personal relationship with more than 31,000 different species. Robin Wall Kimmerer, author of Braiding Sweetgrass said that plants, the land, the water and the rocks are all non-human beings that deserve our respect, just as much as human beings. We also have a shared responsibility to ensure that these non-human beings will still be around seven generations from now. First Nations names for plants often include a description of the plant's ecology and/or biology or the name of the plant may refer to its uses, whether traditional or medicinal. Indigenous plant names are often based on the nature or behaviour of the plant and how it can be used.
Invitation
Place a leaf under the paper and make your own leaf rubbing as part of this ‘exhibit herbarium’ – feel free to add words/drawings to help express the observations or connections you are hoping to record. If you’d like to take yours home with you, you may do so - just please go to a blank page so you can tear it out without removing others’ art!
Bonita Eloise Ford
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Bonita Eloise Ford is an author and educator who helps people respond to eco/climate breakdown. Her book “Embers of Hope: Embracing Life in an Age of Ecological Destruction and Climate Chaos” was listed in the “Top 20+ best all-time permaculture books by women,” and her new book, “Climate Care: 7 Ways to Honor Eco Emotions,” is available for pre-order now. Bonita has facilitated groups around the world for over 23 years and launched Climate Mental Health Network’s program for youth climate leaders.
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Nathan Stevens-Cocco
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Nathan is an Anishinaabe Algonquin and community member of Kitigan Zibi Anishinabeg First Nation in Quebec, Canada. Nathan lives in Ottawa, Ontario, which is located on the unceded and unsurrendered traditional territory of the Anishinaabe Algonquin peoples. Nathan is an Indigenous botany-collection technician at the Canadian Museum of Nature and helps curate Canada’s National Herbarium. Nathan's background is in biology and he has been interested in nature for his whole life. Nathan is most interested in learning how to identify local and native flora and fauna. Nathan is most passionate about conservation and sustainability and reconciling traditional Indigenous knowledge with modern western science. One of his goals is to be a guardian, caretaker, custodian and steward of the lands that his ancestors kept wild for time immemorial (many thousands of years).
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Paul Sokoloff
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Paul Sokoloff (he/him) is a botanist at the Canadian Museum of Nature, and is fortunate to work on understanding biodiversity through collections-based research across North America. When not looking at plants he can often be found gazing at the stars or embarking on a quest for good coffee with his husband.
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Sardonyx
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Sardonyx (they/them) is a queer, trans drag artist driven by a thirst for environmental justice. They create sustainable wearable art from recycled, unconventional and natural materials like plastic, paper, trees, pop cans, pipecleaners, stickers. Sardonyx has been leading drag ecology hikes since 2023 as a means of sharing some of their naturalist knowledge and encouraging environmental stewardship on a local level.
@mx.sardonyx |