Sowing reconciliation with Gardens of Hope

Karyn Wahsontiiostha Murray is a member of the Kanien'kehá:ka (Mohawk) nation in Kanehsatake, Québec. She is the founder of Gardens of Hope, a community-driven initiative dedicated to food security, healing, and reconciliation. Despite facing numerous personal hardships early in life, Karyn discovered her purpose in gardening.

Gardens of Hope provides fresh organically fashioned grown produce to local households. It also serves as a space for community members to reconnect with their roots, learn valuable skills, and engage in meaningful work. Through her efforts, Karyn has created a place where both the land and its people can heal together.

I had the privilege of interviewing Karyn, who graciously shared her life story with me. This interview has been edited for clarity.

Content warning: This interview contains discussions of domestic violence, substance abuse, and poverty, which may be distressing for some readers.

Karyn Wahsontiiostha Murray (KM): I'm a 44-year-old, mother, grandmother, daughter, friend, and gardener. I've lived in Kanehsatake my whole life. I was mainly raised by my grandmother because I come from a family where alcoholism is as common as life itself. My mom was a bartender, and my father left not too long after I was born. I spent a lot of time with my grandmother growing up z∞, and I'm thankful for that because she taught me a lot of great values and work ethic. She was a homemaker, and I never had to lift a finger, but I watched her work really hard.

Michelle Kwok (MK): That's an incredible story so far. Tell me about your journey from there and how you ended up starting Gardens of Hope.

KM: I met someone and became a mom when I was 16. It was rough because it was another alcoholic and drug-induced home that the father provided. He was a lot older than me. With this man, I had five kids. I stayed with him for a total of 13 years. I was beaten almost every day. Often, I wondered why everything had to be so rough always. In 2009, I left him with my kids because it had become extremely violent and very dangerous for me and my children.

I eventually left and returned to my childhood home with my five kids after my grandmother passed away. Then I began spiralling into drugs for several years. I met a wonderful man, had three more daughters with him, and then on December 1st, 2012, he was taken away from us. He was 26 years old; I was 32, and I was left with eight children. After that, I spiralled even more into drugs, and it seemed like there was no hope whatsoever. I just didn't see it.

I lived on 99 beautiful acres of land that I grew up on. I remember one day standing outside, thinking about how I could make money. I was on welfare with my children, just getting by but not able to live with any extras. I had done some research on Ancestry and discovered that my great-grandfather was a gardener. He tended animals and had to feed his large family.

The idea came to me to start a little garden. I looked around and saw that people everywhere were doing agriculture. I thought, "Maybe we can do that." I started a small pallet garden on the side of the garage, not even in the ground. That summer, I also decided to cut off TV and internet for my kids, giving them walkie-talkies to explore the land and reconnect with their roots. I initially started the garden to give them another activity, but I was the one who got hooked.

MK: Did you have any gardening or agriculture experience before that epiphany?

KM: None whatsoever. I couldn't even keep a house plant, an air plant, alive. House plants never lived long in my house between me or my kids. But once I was out there in the elements, I began searching for hope. I saw these tiny plants grow from seeds and produce flowers and fruits. I saw hope in a plant and decided to plant it in my mind too. Every day, I found one positive thing about my day and did the same with my kids at the dinner table. That heartbeat started pounding in our chests.

The season ended, and I started thinking about digging in the back to put a garden there next year. I made this plan, which I now see I had no clue about. Spring came, and I asked one of my neighbours with a tractor to cut out a 40 by 40 garden. It was a big square of mud, and I was so scared. At that point, I was still using heavily, and the drugs kept me up forever. I spent from 5 a.m. to 9 p.m. in the garden, in macro symbiosis with the plants. My higher power started doing a healing in my heart. By watching nature grow, I started feeling my roots digging into the ground.

I made tons of mistakes that summer, but that garden was one of the most beautiful I've ever created. There was not one weed in that garden because I was so in tune with it. Then I decided I wanted to do this for a living. I made a five-year plan and a ten-year plan. I wanted to live on my land, build my own house, provide for my family, and leave something for them in the future.

MK: That's truly remarkable. Can you share more about your healing process? It wasn't like you just planted a garden and everything suddenly got better.

KM: No, no, no. So, that first summer came and went, and I decided I was going to school. I wanted access to different grants and funding. I wanted to know more about plants, how they grow, and what they need. I signed up to go to a school called Centre de Formation Agricole de Mirabel.

I prepared all winter for that. The next season came around. I signed up for school, met with the proper channels here to get funding, so I could go and do this without penalizing my family. On August 8, 2018, I went to school for the first time. I had been using for three and a half years. I was at a point where I was opening a drawer to look for a pair of scissors and couldn't see it, and it was there.

Rather than being able to speak, I would just kind of grunt at people to get them to give me things. My cognitive abilities were really affected. There were forty students who ranged in age from 16 to 52, but most were under 24. I was 38 years old and felt incapable. By lunchtime, I ran off. I went home and thought, "Well, Karyn, this is not how it's gonna go for you. You're gonna have to get back to the drawing board and figure out some other way to do this." That night, because I have a higher power who has led me through everything I've been through, even from a young age, the teacher called me and said, "Hi, we noticed you weren't there. We'd really like it if you'd come back tomorrow. Give yourself a chance."

I thought, "Okay, I can try to do this." So on August 9, 2018, I went back to school. That was the last day I used because there was an intervention that day, mostly aimed at the younger students. They talked about the drug I was taking—how it was made, where it was made, what it was made with.

Here I was, feeding my kids as organically as possible. I wouldn't even buy them Fruit Loops because of the dyes and chemicals. Yet, I was ingesting [drugs] and killing myself. It was enough for me to know that was it for me. For the next 10 months, I put myself all into my work. I had amazing teachers with whom I was able to speak about my condition at that point.

Remember, my cognitive functions were impaired. I had to relearn how to be around people. The great thing was, these were all people who loved plants too, so my little geeky side got fed. It's going to be six years this year that I haven't used [drugs.] I finished school and graduated. I was so proud of myself. I was 39 years old. I was going to make my gardens, but it wasn't happening.

I finished at the end of June, so it was too late to start that year. By the end of November, beginning of December, I was fervently looking for work. I went to the band office and saw one of the council members. I said, "Even if I have to dig a ditch as a job, I really need to work. Christmas is coming. I've got nothing for me and my kids. I need help." Within 20 minutes, the counsellor came back out and said, "Well, you are now an eco-agriculture officer for the Kanehsatake Economic Development Office."

I was like, "Whoa. Wow. Okay. All right." That was December 2019. I started working with this great bunch of people. January came around, and we started talking about doing a marketable garden. I was thriving and loving it.

Then March 13, 2020, we were all sent home. We were all wondering what was going on with this COVID situation. Within a few days, my boss and I decided we were still going to make this garden and give everything away.

MK: That’s amazing.

KM: The different departments got together, and we were able to get seven young men and women from the community, mostly high school students, to come and work. The great thing was, we were working outdoors, so it was easy to maintain a distance. Everyone had their own set of tools, and we followed the regulations. While everyone was stuck at home, we were out there growing, literally, not only the field but also ourselves.

We started that garden with $5,000, and that’s all we had. People donated plants, and we got some equipment. We started from scratch. I didn't know what it was going to be, but I knew it was going to be my project, my life. That first edition allowed us to feed fresh, organically fashioned grown food to 125 households twice a week during peak harvest season.

MK: That is a huge accomplishment. While I’m listening to this, I'm imagining a seed because during the pandemic, everyone was cooped up at home. Here you are, not just planting a garden, but also planting seeds within yourself. These seeds brought healing to you, the people in the garden, and provided for the community.

KM: Yes. One of the important things for me was to stay in touch with the community. Everybody was shut in, so we did a scarecrow contest that people could do at home and win a prize. We helped maintain other people's little gardens and, in the fall, raked leaves from people's yards. This communication created a network within our community where people didn't feel alone. They had this connection, a flagpole, if you will, that reminded them they were not alone.

MK: That's incredible.

KM: I didn't realize until today while talking to you, but it really did create a sense of connection. The following years, 2021, 2022, and 2023, were supposed to be market gardens. We started doing that. It was okay. I enjoyed being in nature, but something was missing. I can sell anything, but something was missing.

In 2023, I was told my position, which was for three years, would not be renewed. They didn't have the funding from a certain third party. When one door closes, another opens. The same day I was told about losing my job, I was at a treatment center for an NA meeting. One of the counsellors asked if I ever thought about working there. It was the same day I found out I was losing my job.

I thought, "Okay, new adventure, let's go." I realized I could apply my gardening theories to people because we are a lot like plants. We need nutrition and care. We come from the earth, the land, so there's definitely a connection. And I can make that connection. I was able to work there for a year and a half, almost two years, and grew some more myself, learned some more about recovery. And then, when I was terminated, I thought, "Okay, now's the time to get Gardens of Hope up and running."

I invite different groups of people to come and help tend the land. There's a lot of reconciliation that happens because most of the people who come are from outside of Kanehsatake. The aim is to feed Kanehsatake. I don't want to be asking for help from my people. If people want to come in and work on the land and do their own healing, they're always welcome to. For example, I had a group from Montreal last week, mostly teenagers with autism of varying degrees. They worked hard, and I got to explain to them about Kanehsatake, my people, and our journey together. Not about what happened with the settlers 500 years ago, but our current reality and how working together benefits us all.

I have another group from Café Parenthèse, a place for people who are less fortunate. Some of them live under the bridge in a nearby town. They have different mental illnesses or ailments, and they come and spend a few hours working here. They are paid through a program that helps subsidize them with cash for that day. When they first come, they usually look gloomy, thinking, "Oh, we're going to be out with the bugs." Some are enthusiastic, but generally, they seem down. After spending time here, doing some work, learning about different plants, and just being out here, it feels like they are in another world. By the time they leave, there are big smiles and new friendships, and most can't wait to come back.

So, them getting that little pay is like a cherry on top. This is what the essence of Gardens of Hope is: to feed people, but in so many ways. Feed their bodies, feed their souls.

MK: I see that your life journey, even the bad parts, has been used to bring healing. If you didn't go through mental health issues, substance abuse, and domestic violence, you wouldn't have been able to connect with those who also have these same issues.

KM: A long time ago, it was prophesied over me that I was going to have beauty for ashes. For me, beauty for ashes means that after a devastating event, like a fire, beauty can still emerge. A few years ago, there was a big fire in California. Everything was ashes and gray. But after the first rain, an array of colorful flowers popped up everywhere. Without the fire, we wouldn't get to see the beauty that comes after.

MK: Wow. I also noticed that you have eight kids, and now a lot of the groups coming to see you involve youth.

KM: It feels like this was meant to be. One of the things I want to do in the future is speak to Native women. I share my story at different NA meetings, but I want to speak to Native women across Canada. I want to tell them that you can be the neglected child, the teen mom, the wife, the abandoned spouse. All these things can happen to you, but it's not the end.

MK: Absolutely. And what do you grow?

KM: Oh, well, this year we had to go with what was given to us because, since it's the first year, we couldn’t get as much funding as we will in the future once we're more structured. I'm in the middle of writing all the different proposals and bylaws for the garden and these things.

This year we have about 10 rows of different tomatoes growing. We have different peppers, onions, and a lot of medicinal plants that occur naturally in my environment, which we let grow. We have Mohawk corn, Mohawk beans, different squashes, and pumpkins. Some of those medicinal herbs include mullein, chamomile, and different other flowers like staghorn sumac.

KM: That's what's on the menu this year, I guess you could say.

MK: On the menu, I love it.

KM: Yeah, and I'm already planning what I want to grow in the future. I want to do a sunflower maze. I want my community to be able to come here and do things they would otherwise have to pay for elsewhere, like a maze or a pumpkin patch. There's a strawberry patch big enough for people to come and pick their own, knowing it hasn't been touched by pesticides or man-made fertilizers.

I eventually want to incorporate chickens and maybe some smaller game meat to provide for our elders, families, and community. It's also an example of what can be done with a small budget. If we were able to start this garden with under three thousand dollars, anyone can do it at home. Their manicured lawn might get a little messed up, but they'll have their medicines and food. For example, since we have so many tomatoes, we're planning to teach the kids at the high school how to can them. They will be able to bring some home, and the rest will be provided to whoever in the community wants them.

MK: What are some needs that you have or anticipate in the garden that other people can help with?

KM:: We need to build better infrastructure. Right now, we have a container for our tools and a small shelter that protects us from the sun. But we need a cleaning and packing area for our vegetables. We need better tools, like a small tractor, to tend the garden. We mostly have hand tools now.

We're growing things in an organic way, so we need pollinators and beneficial bugs to come and eat the pests. To do that, we need mechanized implements but without the big monoculture approach. We also need a better spot for people to sit and partake in conversations. The shelter we have now is small, and you'll see it when you come.

I am also creating a website, but I don't have time to do everything. I'm writing proposals for the future, but we need help with infrastructure and tools.

MK: What does reconciliation mean to you?

KM: Reconciliation means that living in Canada, such a melting pot, we, as the first people, still carry so much knowledge about this place, the plants, and the way of living here. Everyone rushes around with their jobs, picking up kids, making supper, watching TV, going to bed. It's redundant. But there's a way to slow down and live. Reconciliation can help people step back and create new friendships.

The dialogue about the past often lacks context. History books mention settlers coming and conquering, but they miss the point of knowing one another and benefiting from growing friendships and relationships. Reconciliation also means putting behind things that are not ours to carry, things that happened before but must not be allowed to happen again.

By forming these acts of reconciliation, having people from outside come here, give a hand, leave their sweat on the land, and help make my community healthy; while meeting people from my community, we create a new narrative. That new narrative creates reconciliation.

If you’re inspired by Karyn’s story and want to support this initiative, consider donating or getting involved.

Gardens of Hope Kanehsatake / Jardins de L’Espoir Kanehsatake is a registered legal entity in Québec # 1179772687 and currently in the process of receiving Canadian charity status.

Karyn Wahsontiiostha Murray can be reached at gohkanehsatake@gmail.com 

Facebook page: Gardens of Hope Kanehsatake

Website coming soon

 

All photos contributed by Karyn Wahsontiiostha Murray.

Special thanks to Danielle Klingelhofer for her assistance in obtaining this interview.

For more information on who else have written about her, check out these links:

Radio-Canada (français)

Kanesatake: alimentation, agriculture et COVID-19

Un projet de jardin ancestral à Kanesatake

 

CBC News

Kanesatake fosters food security with Gardens of Hope

 

First Nations of Quebec and Labrador Economic and Development Commission

Supporting Kanesatake’s Food Self-Sufficiency in Times of Pandemic

 

Eastern Door

Fresh Vegetables Coming Right Up