OKOSIMAAN

Reclaiming our health through squash.

by Wendy Makoons Geniusz

Okosimaanag, “Squashes,” originated in the Americas, where our Indigenous ancestors developed them. Although known by different names, in the over five hundred Indigenous languages and dialects spoken on these continents, Native peoples all over the Americas grow this plant, often in combination with corn and beans. The continued care, cultivation, eating, and teachings of Okosimaan, “Squash,” are important parts of our Indigenous cultures and of our efforts to reclaim and revitalize them. Our cultures bring us Mino-bimaadiziwin, “good life and good health,” an Ojibwe term for a commonly held Indigenous concept: every being has a purpose, and it is important for all of us to live a full, good life, fulfilling our purpose, and respecting the interconnectedness and interdependence of all beings on this Earth. Doing so brings us good health. Reclaiming and revitalizing our cultures, including growing and eating the foods our ancestors ate, helps us live Mino-bimaadiziwin.

One medium-sized Okosimaan can easily feed four adults. A larger one will give them leftovers.  Okosimaan does not need “premium” growing conditions to sprout and thrive. I love watching the vines spread out to find sun, attaching themselves to fences, trees, railings…to anything that will bring them to the optimum amount of bright, warm sunshine. I have grown this plant in sandy soil, partially shaded or full sun gardens, and potting soil-filled kitty litter buckets on cement stairs. My mother, the late Mary Siisip Geniusz, grew Okosimaanag in a mixture of sand and straw compost created in her duck house. I have always adored Okosimaan. When I was a toddler, I once walked over to a large Okosimaan at a pumpkin farm, sat down, and began conversing. That Okosimaan was not a Halloween jack-o’-lantern, it was just a big squash. My mother, who found me moments after I left her side, swore I was “having an entire conversation with the squash” and that I became angry when she did not join our discussion.

In many Indigenous cultures, including the Anishinaabe culture with which I was raised, plants are considered cognizant living beings and humans’ elder relatives. Like all forms of life, plants have Spirits with whom we can communicate and from whom we can ask for guidance and assistance. Sometimes, they choose to help us; sometimes, they have other plans. We make offerings to plants, including food plants, before we harvest them to ask that they allow themselves to be picked and that they send their Spirits to help us. My Ojibwe namesake, the late Keewaydinoquay Peschel, who was a respected mashkikiiwikwe, “medicine woman,” from Michigan’s lower peninsula, taught me and my mother all of this, and she often shared this teaching: When a person feels alone in this life, they should go outside, and look down at the ground because there will be a little plant looking up at them, saying, “Look at me! I’m here with you. You are not alone!” When my mother described this teaching, she would act out the part of the plant, waving her hands, close to her body, like leaves, and speaking in her “squeaky plant voice.” My mother said this was a very important teaching for humans to know—that the plants are always with us—because so often we feel disconnected and alone. Colonization has made these feelings even more intense. 

Our people and our communities have been greatly weakened by the unhealthy foods forced upon us while living on reservations, in poor urban environments, in institutions, and in other places dictated by colonization. For generations, Indigenous people in the United States and Canada were prevented from planting, cultivating, and harvesting our ancestral foods. During this time, we lost connections with those foods, both animal and botanical. The Food Sovereignty Movement, currently blazing through our communities, is an effort to reconnect Indigenous people with the foods of our ancestors and bring back our food security. Reconnecting with the skills necessary to cultivate, harvest, process, and eat these foods brings us physical, mental, and spiritual healing by helping us reclaim control over our food choices and, ultimately, our lives. Okosimaan is a powerful Spirit who can help us reclaim and revitalize these foods, bringing us closer to Mino-bimaadiziwin.

I once read a story about Okosimaan that really shows this being’s strength and power. This story of the Gete-okosimaan, “Ancient Squash,” whose seeds were unearthed in the United States during the twenty-first century after having been buried for hundreds of years in a clay pot, has become legendary in Indigenous communities across Wisconsin, Minnesota, and by now, all over the United States. My favorite article on the Gete-okosimaan comes from Paul DeMain (Oct 2013), who refers to this squash as a “time traveler” and describes eating soup made from this being. The original location of the buried pot does not seem to be known, but some of the seeds grew, producing Okosimaanag up to twenty pounds, and the variety does not look like any of the other Okosimaanag we grow today. 

Okosimaan is so prolific that one seed can produce a vine filled with more Okosimaanag, even after being dormant for centuries. One time, my mother went into her front yard after dinner, holding the seeds of the Okosimaan she had just eaten. With her fingers, she pushed them into a soil-filled container and let the plants flourish. By the end of summer, our front yard was un-mowable, filled with vines and Okosimaanag, hidden in the tall grass. The small, springy tentacles on those thick, fuzzy vines attached themselves to everything in the yard, even the grapevines, which were taking advantage of the new “no-mow” zone. The larger leaves on the vines shaded out smaller plants, and the Okosimaanag that grew were so heavy that they crushed and killed plants underneath them. Okosimaan reclaims, repopulates, and revitalizes. Through this being, we can reclaim our health, that of our relatives and that of our communities.

FUN FACTS:

In the Ojibwe language, Okosimaan is one of a couple of names for “squash.” In some dialects, Okosimaan is alive; in some, it is not, but to everyone, the Okosimaan Spirit is alive, and that is the being referred to in this article, hence the capitalization and my occasional use of the singular form, Okosimaan, in this article. Okosimaan, like the other “squash” names, applies to all squash varieties, including summer squashes like zucchini and also to pumpkins. Those who have grown watermelons may not be surprised that this plant is also called an “Okosimaan.” Both plants have those lovely vines, big leaves, and large, roundish Okosimaanag.

WORKS CITED

DeMain, Paul. "Time Travelers Return to Feed the People." News from Indian Country, 10, 2013, pp. 1 and 5.