Celebrating Indigenous Food Sovereignty Efforts That Drive Wide-Ranging Change

Danielle Nierenberg

Danielle Nierenberg

It wasn’t that long ago that bison were scarce in South Dakota. 

In just six years, that’s changed dramatically. Now, more than 1,100 bison roam the grasslands, already the largest Native-owned bison herd in the world and still growing. The Sicáŋğu Food Sovereignty Initiative is also helping community members learn to grow, produce, harvest, and prepare their own food, while workforce development programs support farmers, ranchers, aspiring entrepreneurs.

The name of the organization speaks for itself: This is not only a success story for one Indigenous group; it’s a success story for efforts everywhere toward food sovereignty.

“When I first started, [people couldn’t] really articulate what food sovereignty was or understand the importance of it. But now, people are seeing the urgency and that importance,” says Matte Wilson, Deputy Director of the Sicáŋğu Community Development Corporation. 

The urgency of building food sovereignty in Indigenous communities is stark. Food insecurity levels among Native households in the United States are significantly above the national average. Indigenous people are “up to three times more likely to die from cardiometabolic diseases compared to other groups,” a Frontiers in Sustainable Food Systems report notes. And tragically, this is no accident. Over recent centuries, federal policies have restricted traditional food systems, disinvested in reservations, interfered in organizing efforts, and more.

But when Indigenous communities set the terms for their own food and agriculture systems, land management practices, economic structures, cultural expression, and health policy, things change for the better. There’s deep wisdom in these foodways—wisdom that’s lasted thousands of years and can continue to protect and nourish communities to this day.

Michael Kotutwa Johnson’s work at the University of Arizona's Indigenous Resilience Center, for example works to advance Indigenous resilience research, education, and outreach. And Johnson’s work in particular has focused on bringing back traditional varieties of Hopi crops.

Without biodiversity, “we have no true sustainability,” he says. “(These seeds are) a backbone of our community. They’re the things that survived us, and it’s taken us years and years to cultivate. So to bring them back home, finally, is very important.”

Within Indigenous models of food sovereignty, we also see concepts like Food is Medicine and local foodways as inherent truths. This is why acclaimed Chef Sean Sherman is so frustrated with the U.S. government’s new upside-down-pyramid model of dietary guidelines, he told us at Climate Week NYC a couple weeks ago. Rather than a one-size-fits-all approach, he created the RING Diet (Regional Indigenous Nutritional Guide). 

“We’re all different people and that’s what’s beautiful about this one because it’s regional, so you can make rings everywhere and it can go global quickly,” he said at Climate Week. “The more we eat for health, the better off we’ll be and the more understanding we have.”

Those benefits extend beyond food systems, to all parts of people’s livelihoods. I love seeing how the First Nations Development Institute works to not just invest in Native food and agriculture systems but also to strengthen research and advocacy for Native economic justice, support the stewardship of Native lands, and help protect and amplify Native arts, language, and knowledge systems.

And the organization Native Agriculture Financial Services (NAFS) provides capital to support agriculture production, rural business development, and rural infrastructure for Native American farmers, ranchers, and agricultural communities.

“Health isn’t just about individual choices. It’s about community, environment, and the systems around us,” says A-dae Romero Briones, a vice president at the First Nations Development Institute.

Across the entire food system, we would all do well to continue elevating Indigenous voices—and, for those of us who come from different backgrounds, deeply listening. How can we learn from these traditions to build stronger local food networks and more resilient land management practices everywhere? How can we advocate for food sovereignty in even more communities? How can we embed this interconnected understanding of food and environment and health into all parts of our political and economic systems? 

None of us has all these answers, of course—but there’s no question that, the harder we work toward a food system model rooted in local sovereignty, the better off we’ll all be! Email me at danielle@foodtank.com, and let’s keep brainstorming ways to get there and highlighting success stories that show us the way forward.

(Danielle Nierenberg is the President of Food Tank and can be reached at danielle@foodtank.com)