Indigenous Cultural Burning Crew Returns Good Fire to Oregons Willamette Valley
As a thirty-plus year veteran of wildland firefighting and retired Fire Management Officer for one of California's eighteen National Forests, I have had the privilege of working with many incredible fire crews over the years. But I must say, the crew of young wildland firefighters I had the opportunity to work with this past fall was truly exceptional.
These young firefighters hail from the brand new Willamette Valley Fire Collaborative. Self-dubbed, “The Wagon Burners,” this all-Indigenous crew fire module has taken back the power of what was once a derogatory slur used against Native Americans. Aside from their module leader last fall, Sara Fraser, who came from Eugene-based Oregon Woods, they are just starting their careers, eager to learn and excited to make a difference in the world of wildland fire management. And they certainly did not disappoint. From the moment they arrived back from their prescribed fire projects on the Olympic Peninsula in mid-September, they hit the ground running, ready to take on the remainder of a busy fall season.
As a Burn Boss for Ecostudies Institute and Friends of Buford Park & Mount Pisgah, I had the pleasure of working with the crew on several burns last fall, starting with our rendezvous with a Nature Conservancy burn module at their Willow Creek headquarters in the Upper Willamette Valley in western Oregon. From there, we burned on numerous sites in the West Eugene wetlands and in the Coburg Hills on private property, as well as property owned by The Nature Conservancy and the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife.
Throughout the season, I was struck by the dedication and professionalism of this young crew. They worked long hours in sometimes challenging conditions, but always maintained a positive attitude and a willingness to learn and improve their skills. And their hard work paid off - we were able to complete all of our burns safely and effectively, thanks in large part to their efforts. During the course of their first season the Wagon Burners participated in dozens of prescribed burns in Washington and Oregon totaling some 675 acres.
But it wasn't just their technical skills that impressed me. These young firefighters also understood the importance of reviving and keeping alive the traditions of Indigenous cultural burning. They recognized the role that Indigenous ecological science and management practices can play in promoting healthy ecosystems and communities, and they were eager to learn from and work with local Tribes to incorporate these practices into our prescribed fire projects.
Of course, this wasn't always easy. These young fire practitioners felt the pressure when everyone else working on these prescribed fire projects looked to them for the right words to say or the right songs to sing before each burn began. And while a test fire is a common practice on all prescribed fires to see if conditions are right to move forward with the burn, integrating a land acknowledgement and ceremony into the beginning of a prescribed fire is far less common. But these young people rose to the challenge, balancing the technical demands of the burn with the cultural and spiritual elements that are so important to the local Tribes. The last thing one wants is for this moment of introspection, during what is often a hurried and rushed time as the burn gets underway, to seem performative or more for as a spectacle for the consumption of the non-Native burn participants.
Important questions that emerged include:
Should the module be expected to have a ceremony planned for the beginning of every burn?
Can non-Native burners even be a part of a “cultural burn,” though hundreds of prescribed fires may be conducted every year with cultural objectives, many without having a single Indigenous cultural practitioner on-site.
How can a Burn Boss set the stage at the operation briefing with an appropriate land acknowledgement and let the non-Native participants know what is expected of them during any words or songs spoken by the Indigenous burners? Should they participate at all? If so, how? Are photographs permissible?
Should landowners whose "private property" is being burned allow Tribal members--whose ancestral lands the property is located--to come and gather important plants for food security, basketweaving and medicinal purposes before and/or after the burn?
As I wished the Wagon Burners well as they traveled to Eastern Oregon to finish their season conducting burns at Sycan Marsh Preserve in Eastern Oregon, I couldn't help but feel inspired by the work they had accomplished and the bright future that lies ahead for them. With their dedication, professionalism, and commitment to promoting healthy ecosystems and communities, along with revitalizing Indigenous cultural burning traditions. I know that they will go on to accomplish great things in their careers.
The seeds of this program were sown on a prescribed fire back in October of 2021 at the Andrew Reasoner Wildlife Preserve. In 2022 many of the Wagon Burners had profound experiences on that burn. Many changes are planned for 2023 under the guidance of an experienced administrator who has worked tirelessly for years trying to restore fire though the Rivers to Ridges Partnership. A new module leader has been hired, and the crew is adding to their fleet of fire apparatus housed along with that of the Nature Conservancy at the Willow Creek station. Anybody interested in applying for work with this module can find out more information here.
Though I’m a privileged white male, I was adopted and only know about early European hunter-gatherer societies and their relationship with fire from what I’ve read in books. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own deeply-felt spiritual connection between the land, the biodiversity that fire brings, and my own identity as a human being. Scientists believe the ability to carry and propagate fire was crucial to the development of the large brains of homo sapiens. Beyond the many Native American legends of how Coyote gave fire to humanity, the mythologies of Australian Aboriginal, the Sand people of Southern Africa, and that of the Hindu all have similar stories. From Europe we have Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans. As punishment, Zeus had him chained to a rock where an eagle would eat his liver every day. In each of these stories, fire was seen as a powerful tool that could bring both benefits and dangers to humans and was often associated with divine or supernatural forces.
To my mind, returning fire to the land as a cultural practice certainly benefits the Tribes upon whose ancestral lands the Wagon Burners plied their trade this fall – the Confederated Tribes of the Grand Ronde and Siletz. But I think is also goes a long way to bridge cultural gaps between the colonized and the colonizers by engaging in an ancient practice that all of our ancestors once treated with reverence. While this could never reverse the inter-generational trauma experienced by Native Americans, it may give them more reason to share in the experience of fire as medicine for all Earth’s inhabitants. Along the way, it may also start to curb the institutional momentum of America’s current prevailing wildland fire culture, which is mostly about taking fire “out” and not putting fire “in.” Federal careerist risk aversion and the shared trauma of recent climate-driven wildfires and smoke is making it harder and harder to retain the social license to burn, even though that has been an integral part of being human. Fire is not a thing to be captured only in the bellies of our mechanical beasts of burden. As we are now learning, that comes with a cost.
In conclusion, I want to express my deep gratitude to the young wildland firefighters I had the privilege of working with this past fall. Your hard work, dedication, and passion for wildland fire management are truly inspiring, and I know that you will continue to make a difference in the world of fire.