Reclaiming What Was Lost Growing Up, wild rice—or manoomin—was sacred in our family, but it was only served during ceremonies. The tradition of harvesting it ourselves had been interrupted by the legacy of residential schools. These teachings weren’t passed on to me. But I felt the pull—an inner knowing that this part of our culture needed to be brought back.​​

Learning on the Water
 

About twenty years ago, I made the commitment to learn how to harvest. My grandparents warned me it was hard work, and they were right—but I was ready. I joined my aunts and uncles on the water, paddling through the rice fields, listening carefully to their stories, watching their methods, and slowly finding my rhythm.

This wasn’t just learning—it was remembering.

Turning to Water for Healing

After the passing of my youngest son, my connection to the water deepened. Grief guided me back to the land. I purchased a small cabin near the traditional rice fields where generations of my family had harvested. It became a place of reflection, a place where healing met tradition. Here, surrounded by the sounds of nature and the teachings of manoomin, I began to restore not only my spirit—but a piece of our collective identity.

From Grief to Teaching

As an educator, I felt called to share what I was learning from my family and traditional knowledge keepers—not just about wild rice, but about healing, food sovereignty, and cultural resurgence. That’s how the Wild Rice Experience came to life. I created a space where others could come to learn on the land, reconnect with culture, and experience the sacredness of the harvest.

What Manoomin Has Taught Me
 

Manoomin is more than food.
It is our medicine.
Our teacher.
A symbol of Indigenous governance and community.
It’s a living connection to water, land, and spirit.

Harvesting rice has taught me about patience, balance, and humility. And now, I share those teachings—with schools, families, and anyone willing to learn with an open heart.