We’re showered every day with the gifts of plants. They provide the food we eat, the air we breathe, and medicines for mind and body. Despite this unearned flow of green generosity, we find ourselves embedded in a political climate and an economic system that relentlessly asks, “What more can we take from the Earth?” This question and its answers have led us to the brink of disaster.
And now we’re being buried in an avalanche of new threats to the lands we love as climate commitments are reversed, the EPA is dismantled, logging is accelerated in the National Forests, and other losses too numerous and painful to list. I’ve been feeling both drained and enraged by the attacks on our values and I bet you have, too.
”Drill, Baby, Drill”, that mantra of destruction and extraction, is an intentional slap in the face to people who value land, life, health, and justice over corporate profits. Well, let’s raise a garden-gloved middle finger in return. I invite you, my friends, my neighbors, my readers, my fellow citizens into a new movement called Plant, Baby, Plant.
Youth and elders, urban and rural, Democrat and Republican, I think there’s one thing on which we can agree: It’s wrong to wreck the world. I think the question that we need is, ”What does the Earth ask of us?” How can we give back in return for everything we’ve been given, and for everything we’ve taken?
With Plant, Baby, Plant, we will counter the forces of destruction with creative resistance in support of life. For generations, Indigenous communities, grassroots organizers, gardeners, scientists, artists, civil servants, foresters, food advocates, and others have championed the work of healing land and restoring our relationship with the Earth.
Our goal is not to reinvent the wheel. It is to amplify, multiply, and carry forward these powerful efforts. Now is the time to help accelerate and expand that work with a groundswell of resistance.
Together, we can spark a grassroots movement to heal land, build community, and transform love of land into social change. Not only will we plant trees and food and wildflower meadows, but we will plant our feet and say “no more destruction”. We will plant a flag, to claim that this is what good citizens do on behalf of Mother Earth.
Are you ready to raise a garden and raise a ruckus? Join us.
—Robin Wall Kimmerer
Our movement is germinating. In the next few months, we will be launching our full website and first campaign. You can expect:
Sign up today to learn more about Robin’s vision for Plant, Baby, Plant. You’ll be the first to hear when new movement activities are announced.
Photo: Gage Skidmore from Peoria, AZ, United States of America – Bernie Sanders & Bill McKibben, CC BY-SA 2.0
“As a wiser mind than mine once said, the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago, and the next best time is right now! In this hard moment on our earth and in our country, let a million flowers and fruit trees, ferns and shrubs, sequoias and saplings blossom, stretch, and give us beauty, shade, and clean air to breathe.
Putting a spade in the ground is one of the strongest ways to stand up for the future.”
author, activist, and founder of Sun Day
I love the beauty of the Appalachian mountains, and my happy place is the campground in West Virginia that I visited every year as a child, inspiring my love of nature. I hope to get a PhD to address waste issues from mining, helping reduce the environmental impact as we increase the demand for metals and minerals for the green transition.
I have been helping local schools plant pollinator gardens and specialize in locally native milkweeds for monarch conservation since 2003 and have been to Michoacán Mexico to the overwintering reserves of monarch butterflies four times. They restore my soul. Thank you for your work, your walk, and your witness, Robin.
I’m devastated by the climate crisis and hope this is one step I can take to feeling less helpless. I’m constantly in awe of the natural world and wish people would do more to protect it.
When we purchased our home 8 years ago, it was void of insects except for ants and spiders. Since we converted our lawn into native plant gardens, I see amazing insects that I’ve never seen before. I get so excited when I see the black swallowtail caterpillar and the pollinators by the hundreds enjoying the native plants plus all the bird species that we see now. We started the lawn conversion 3 years ago and didn’t realize how messed up the typical way we think about yards, lawns and landscaping really is.
I’m an invasion biologist as my profession and a forager and gardener in my free time, so my life is profoundly impacted by my relationship with nonhuman beings. Your work has been an amazing way of connecting many of my non-naturalist friends and family members with some of the concepts I hold most true about how humans can be in right relationship with and good medicine to the natural world — miigwech!
Birds! As an ecologist/ ornithologist, sharing the joy of birds is important to me. I love every bird, even the house sparrows and the crows. I fear that people are appreciating birds less and less, especially in cities or with the fear of avian flu. I fear that birds are being forced to change their homes or their behaviors or their ability to survive as the climate is changing and humans are changing the land.
It brings joy to see the faces of first and second graders as they interact with plants and “other people” in local natural environments.
Trees, water, animals, plants, insects, amphibians, birds, rocks, mountains, valleys, wide open spaces, forests, beaches and ocean, the night sky filled with stars, a quietness that feeds the soul. All of these bring me joy, and all of these are harder to find.
In Westmoreland County, PA, we were inspired by your book “The Serviceberry” to start Seed Libraries in our Westmoreland County Library Network for America’s 250th in 2026. We are connecting the libraries to Penn State Extension Master Gardeners and hope to have 10-12 going (about 1/2 of the library network) by next summer. We are also encouraging the planting and expansion of hundreds of Monarch Waystations in our county by planting native shrubs and trees to expand the gardens upward.
I love trees and all the greatness they provide for all peoples of the planet. I really love Native trees to my home state of Michigan but I am concerned about climate change moving our growing zones so the trees that I know and love and grew up with must move out like the White Pine… White Pine is moving north and I’m going to miss it a lot.
Thank you for starting this group! I personally find great joy in learning about and getting to know my neighborhood spaces intimately… In the summer, my kids and I sit out on our back deck and watch the bats come out to catch insects. I rejoice when fireflies are around me as I pick tomatoes from my garden. I lean in close to observe fungi on trees in the park and listen for the variety of birds singing in my bushes. I delight in blowing dandelions with my kids. While I love places that are more “wild,” the fact that I can connect with the non-human neighbors around me is what keeps me sane on a day-to-day basis.
Seeing neighbors in Brooklyn planting wildflowers in otherwise trodden down and neglected patches of soil around trees on sidewalks fills me with daily joy! Same goes for neighbors who take it upon themselves to plant in soil around buildings and give us all something beautiful to look at on our daily walks and commutes.
I’m 69 years old. The natural world that I grew up with has changed so much that it breaks my heart. I want better for our Earth and all its citizens. I want future generations to see progress and not degradation. I want hope to flourish.
Daily walks by the river, eating locally grown meals, bird watching, feeling the wind on my face and seeing the trees dance by the wind all bring me joy. While the collapse of this world of course concern me, what gives me energy and stirs me up is the everyday people who are acting on their neighbors, strangers, friends’ behalf. I spent my career as a community organizer… I am seeing people from all over, young and old, who are organizing to defend others, setting up mutual aid efforts, and dreaming up alternatives.
Nature and birds and creation helped me when both parents died. Grief loss and connecting to another 3rd way…i am concerned first we barely acknowledge earth or our time on it. We bypass it being too busy to even see the gifts much less food.
What brings me joy: our little k-8 school, all the children and families who tend the gardens and hearts here. The hummingbirds and snakes who joined us this year, the hawks and geese who fly overhead, the wonder on the little faces when they climb through the cucumber tunnel or encounter the silks clinging to the corn they just husked. The forgetting of this inherent connection, the lack of respect for the preciousness and gifts of the land break my heart each day.
I raised a 3-sisters garden in my very small Baltimore back yard. The explosion of life I witnessed this summer has me converted for life.
Growing up in Western Mass, my childhood was spent in the woods. Now I’m raising my son in the city , but teaching him how to be a steward as well as I can. I remain hopeful!
I’m not a stereotypical nature-lover. I don’t hike, camp, or seriously garden. I’ve spent very little time in ntnl parks. My yard has some grass, and I even spray against mosquitos. (Bc I really don’t think I could play with my kids out there without it!) However, I LOVE being outside. My family bikes instead of drives as much as we can; we spend lots of time in our city parks and other outdoor (but urban) spots. We believe there is no bad weather! Plus, I have been deeply moved by your work and I believe in this movement.
But I feel a tension for myself. Is it really possible for someone like me—a city-dweller, city-lover, tick-borne-illness hater—to make a difference?
Signing up bc I want to be better!
Lately, I’ve found myself lying down on a paddle board or the ground or in a river bed and letting the water move me, wash over me, rain onto me. The medicine of water and movement have been brining me together with myself in a right sized way and that brings me peace which is a kind of joy. I am concerned that children do not know and value the pace of nature or understand their place within her.
Walking in the woods during a very windy time and hearing the trees talk.
As their branches touched, the sound was similar to a whale singing. I was gifted!
My father’s ashes are buried underneath an oak tree; every time I meet one of its kind, the oak reminds me my father’s love is all around. As my home country burned this summer, consumed by the fire, I feared for the oaks, for all the living being in the forest, for the people who know and love these lands.
Laying in my hammock listening to the birds, staring up at my Maples. Sitting around a crackling fire with people I love. Talking with the Crows. Moss! Ferns! Clouds!
The seasons are shifting, winter starts and end later than it used to. Less quiet. Less time and freedom for kids to be outdoors.
Tide pools on the beaches of California, waterfalls in the redwoods and the desert landscape bring me joy. The destruction of the EPA concerns me alongside my disconnection to nature while living in a big city.
This is a movement that speaks directly to my heart. Raise good kids, grow plants and vegetables, figure out what YOUR gift is, and use it to give back. Oh, and get out into the forest where you live- become naturalized to place, heal, and learn. I can’t wait to see what grows from the seeds of Plant Baby Plant.
Waking up in an urban environment and seeing all of the buzzing bees and fluttering butterflies in my very small front yard bring me joy and hope! As an urban gardener, seeing plants that are typically productive until the fall die out in the hot summers concern me.
Hiking and my worms bring me joy and comfort.
Photo: https://www.elizabethgilbert.com/bio/
“Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Plant, Baby, Plant is a joyful invitation to resist the twin seductions of hopelessness and despair by putting our love for the world into true, living action. With every seed that we plant, we say yes to the future, while also honoring the stewards of the past.
I am thrilled to be standing beside Robin honoring this tender, powerful movement.”
Author of EAT PRAY LOVE and BIG MAGIC: CREATIVE LIVING BEYOND FEAR
We’re showered every day with the gifts of plants—the food we eat, the air we breathe, medicines for mind and body—just about everything we need is provided for us by plants. Despite this undeserved, unearned flow of green generosity, we find ourselves embedded in a political climate and an economic system which is relentless in asking, “What more can we take from the Earth?” That question and its answers have led us to the brink of disaster.
I think the question that we need is, ”What does the Earth ask of us?” How can we give back in return for everything we’ve been given, and for everything that we’ve taken? How can I be in reciprocity with the land, how can I be a giver, not just a taker?
That is the question I hear so often that it feels like a river of longing for rightness, a powerful, untapped river that is dammed up behind a highwall, artificial barrier of perceived powerlessness. It’s time to release that pent up yearning for reciprocity and let its power flow. What will we do with all that power? It’s up to you.
The call for “Plant, Baby, Plant!” is a response to that river of longing. It’s a millwheel to harness our collective creative resistance in support of life. It’s an invitation to ally ourselves with the good green world. Because plants know what to do in the face of climate catastrophe. They don’t emit carbon dioxide, they absorb it and store it away in the bodies of trees, the roots of grasses, the true wealth of fertile soils and the safe deposit box of wetlands. At the same time, they purify air and water, create habitat, give more than they take—and make us happy and healthy at the same time. All this time they have supported us, isn’t it time we returned the favor? Everything depends on this.
The outcomes of extractive economies have ushered in what evolutionary biologists are calling “The Age of the Sixth Extinction” where the current loss of species rivals the extinction events that wiped out the dinosaurs. Only this time, we are the meteor. Geologists have named our era in history, the Anthropocene, in recognition of the ways that human activity is changing every aspect of the globe. I understand the evidence and the devastating footprint of our species. But it needn’t be this way.
In fact, for most of human history, before the great delusion that the Earth was merely a warehouse of commodities destined for our consumption, humans lived in fruitful symbiosis with the land. This corrosive period of unbridled destruction is but an eyeblink of time in human history, when the western worldview of domination tried to eradicate the indigenous ethos of reciprocity. But it was not erased, it is still here and beckoning us, glimpsed from the corner of our eyes.
In the messages from readers like you, I hear a collective wail from we who love the world but feel powerless to stop the onslaught of ecological and social crises. What can we do? In that cry I feel a different era on the horizon. Beyond the Age of the Sixth Extinction, beyond the Anthropocene, I feel the motive force of the Age of Remembering. As we reckon with the wounds we have inflicted on the land and therefore on ourselves, people are remembering what it would be like to be an ally to the living land, instead of an enemy. We are remembering what the land has taught each of our ancestors: that all flourishing is mutual. That we cannot take without giving back. The longing I hear from readers is also the yearning to belong. To belong again to a larger purpose. In giving back, in acts of reciprocity are the seeds of belonging. It’s a longing, to once again be a valued member of the community of species, to re-member ourselves. To remember ourselves not only as takers, but as givers to the Earth.
Readers of “Braiding Sweetgrass” and “The Serviceberry” are answering the call to create cultures of reciprocity, sharing homemade examples of local gift economies, from community gardens to tree giveaways, seed libraries and rewilding schoolyards. They have written new music, new curricula and new liturgies. They have restored land and restored hope. Their stories are an inspiration.
We stand at a crossroads, crying “what can we do?” Let’s pick up our shovels, our seeds, and our spirits in common purpose, in service to the regenerative power of the natural world. “What does the Earth ask of us?” “Plant, Baby, Plant!”
My inbox is full of despairing “what can I do?” messages from readers. Like you, I am searching for acts of resistance, for something I can do to counter the firestorm. I’ve made my daily calls to legislators. I’ve written letters and gone to protests. I’ve donated. I want to do something more direct and tangible. I want to give love back to the land which is so threatened by the extractive worldview.
“Drill, Baby, Drill “ is an intentional slap in the face to people who value land, life, health and justice over corporate profits. It’s a stick in the eye to fierce advocates for environmental justice. Well, I want to raise a garden-gloved middle finger in return. How about you?
“Drill, Baby, Drill” of the Trump administration is “anti- everything”: anti-science, anti-justice, anti-truth, anti-climate, anti-biodiversity, anti-songbird, anti- water, wildlife and wellbeing. And dare I say it “anti-American”? Well, I have no intention of wallowing in the toxicity of anti-everything. I have no intention of surrendering to the short-sighted stupidity of a playground bully. I want to be for something, not against everything.
I am for purple mountain majesty, I am for the fruited plain, for bees and butterflies, bison and cranes, rabbits and roses, for children who can pick berries and be dazzled by fireflies at night. I am for snow. I am for people working together, sleeves rolled up in common purpose, instead of devising ways to tear each other down. And I bet that you are too.
As I lecture around the country, I am always asked, “What can I do?” At the very top of my long list of responses is “Raise a garden and raise a ruckus”. And so, that’s why I am embracing a new mantra of resistance to counter “Drill, Baby, Drill”. I invite you, my friends, my neighbors, my readers, my fellow citizens into a new movement called “Plant, Baby, Plant”. We will counter the forces of destruction with creative resistance.
When I’m searching for direction, grasping for solutions, I go to my elders for guidance: my elders, the plants. In the worldview of my Anishinaabe peoples, plants are understood as our teachers of creativity, generosity and healing. They represent intelligences other than our own and models of right relationship. They know what to do about climate change—and they are doing it. They are not stupid enough to spew eons of accumulated fossil carbon into the air. They take it out. They don’t try to go backwards to outdated energy technologies—after all, plants have already converted to a completely solar economy!
As a plant ecologist, I know how our traditional Indigenous perspective aligns with the scientific evidence. Every green leafy being is removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and turning it into life support by providing food and habitat and storing carbon in rich fertile soil. Plants cool our overheating planet with shade and transpirative cooling without using a single watt of electricity. Plants should be the model for our energy policy. Plants know what to do to slow climate change. But they can’t do it alone.
We will ally ourselves with the good green world, not against it. In protest of Drill, Baby, Drill, we will plant trees, raise gardens of all kinds, protect wetlands, restore prairies, create native plant landscapes in homes, churches and school yards, parks and parking lots. We will enact Tree Justice so that every corner of our neighborhoods have the healing benefits of nature.
Gardeners, patient and peaceful, may not seem like warriors. But our passions lie in nurturing the land, in countering destruction with regeneration, in fostering beauty in the face of ugliness, in sharing the abundance of the land with our communities. These are the skills of creative resistance that we need in this moment of peril. Gardeners: Will you join us in using your gifts of time and talent and love to counter Drill Baby Drill with Plant, Baby, Plant?
Is planting enough?
Nope. Carbon removal from reforestation, restoration and rewilding are not enough to match the output of greenhouse gases from industrialized human society. But with many hands and many roots we can collectively make a dent.
And planting does so much more than store carbon, of course. Plants build habitat, create soil, purify air, regulate rainfall and they make us happier and healthier. Planting together can create communities of mutual reliance and common purpose, instead of conflict and division. Because everyone benefits from a happy planet.
Their carbon output dwarfs ours. But we’re also creating something else: biodiversity, food security, community, justice, soil, local economies, friends, picnics, community power and joy.
Not only will we plant trees and food and wildflower meadows, but we will plant our feet and say “no more destruction”. And we will plant a flag, to claim that this is what good citizens do on behalf of Mother Earth.
Together, we can counter the anti-climate actions with pro-climate actions of supporting nature-based climate solutions. It’s not everything—we still need to hold our government to climate commitments. We still need to demand accountability from corporate thieves. We still need to support the restoration of democratic principles as well as restoration of land.
We don’t have to be complicit in destruction. You don’t have to sit by while what you love is in danger. If our leaders won’t lead, then we will. We can take our future into our own hands and PLANT. Ask the trees and grasses and the wetlands to help. As we help them, they will help us, in the ancient reciprocal gift economy of living beings.
Will you join me and pick up a shovel? Plant, Baby, Plant!
The chant “Drill, Baby, Drill” is an affront to pretty much everything I have dedicated my life to. “Drill, Baby, Drill” drills into my soul. Do you feel the same way? It says that the best and highest use of our beloved Mother Earth is to rip her open and burn her up. It announces to the world —despite the clear and compelling science that tells us if we want a livable planet, we must not add more greenhouse gases to the atmosphere—that “we’re gonna do it anyway.” It torches the notion of a circular economy and doubles down on the one-way road to a human-caused climate catastrophe.
My inbox is full of despairing “what can I do?” messages from readers. Like you, I am searching for acts of resistance, for something I can do to counter the firestorm. I’ve made my daily calls to legislators. I’ve written letters and gone to protests. I’ve donated. I want to do something more direct and tangible. I want to give love back to the land which is so threatened by the extractive worldview.
“Drill, Baby, Drill “ is an intentional slap in the face to people who value land, life, health and justice over corporate profits. It’s a stick in the eye to fierce advocates for environmental justice. Well, I want to raise a garden-gloved middle finger in return. How about you?
“Drill, Baby, Drill” of the Trump administration is “anti- everything”: anti-science, anti-justice, anti-truth, anti-climate, anti-biodiversity, anti-songbird, anti- water, wildlife and wellbeing. And dare I say it “anti-American”? Well, I have no intention of wallowing in the toxicity of anti-everything. I have no intention of surrendering to the short-sighted stupidity of a playground bully. I want to be for something, not against everything.
I am for purple mountain majesty, I am for the fruited plain, for bees and butterflies, bison and cranes, rabbits and roses, for children who can pick berries and be dazzled by fireflies at night. I am for snow. I am for people working together, sleeves rolled up in common purpose, instead of devising ways to tear each other down. And I bet that you are too.
As I lecture around the country, I am always asked, “What can I do?” At the very top of my long list of responses is “Raise a garden and raise a ruckus”. And so, that’s why I am embracing a new mantra of resistance to counter “Drill, Baby, Drill”. I invite you, my friends, my neighbors, my readers, my fellow citizens into a new movement called “Plant, Baby, Plant”. We will counter the forces of destruction with creative resistance.
When I’m searching for direction, grasping for solutions, I go to my elders for guidance: my elders, the plants. In the worldview of my Anishinaabe peoples, plants are understood as our teachers of creativity, generosity and healing. They represent intelligences other than our own and models of right relationship. They know what to do about climate change—and they are doing it. They are not stupid enough to spew eons of accumulated fossil carbon into the air. They take it out. They don’t try to go backwards to outdated energy technologies—after all, plants have already converted to a completely solar economy!
As a plant ecologist, I know how our traditional Indigenous perspective aligns with the scientific evidence. Every green leafy being is removing carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and turning it into life support by providing food and habitat and storing carbon in rich fertile soil. Plants cool our overheating planet with shade and transpirative cooling without using a single watt of electricity. Plants should be the model for our energy policy. Plants know what to do to slow climate change. But they can’t do it alone.
We will ally ourselves with the good green world, not against it. In protest of Drill, Baby, Drill, we will plant trees, raise gardens of all kinds, protect wetlands, restore prairies, create native plant landscapes in homes, churches and school yards, parks and parking lots. We will enact Tree Justice so that every corner of our neighborhoods have the healing benefits of nature.
Gardeners, patient and peaceful, may not seem like warriors. But our passions lie in nurturing the land, in countering destruction with regeneration, in fostering beauty in the face of ugliness, in sharing the abundance of the land with our communities. These are the skills of creative resistance that we need in this moment of peril. Gardeners: Will you join us in using your gifts of time and talent and love to counter Drill Baby Drill with Plant, Baby, Plant?
Is planting enough?
Nope. Carbon removal from reforestation, restoration and rewilding are not enough to match the output of greenhouse gases from industrialized human society. But with many hands and many roots we can collectively make a dent.
And planting does so much more than store carbon, of course. Plants build habitat, create soil, purify air, regulate rainfall and they make us happier and healthier. Planting together can create communities of mutual reliance and common purpose, instead of conflict and division. Because everyone benefits from a happy planet.
Their carbon output dwarfs ours. But we’re also creating something else: biodiversity, food security, community, justice, soil, local economies, friends, picnics, community power and joy.
Not only will we plant trees and food and wildflower meadows, but we will plant our feet and say “no more destruction”. And we will plant a flag, to claim that this is what good citizens do on behalf of Mother Earth.
Together, we can counter the anti-climate actions with pro-climate actions of supporting nature-based climate solutions. It’s not everything—we still need to hold our government to climate commitments. We still need to demand accountability from corporate thieves. We still need to support the restoration of democratic principles as well as restoration of land.
We don’t have to be complicit in destruction. You don’t have to sit by while what you love is in danger. If our leaders won’t lead, then we will. We can take our future into our own hands and PLANT. Ask the trees and grasses and the wetlands to help. As we help them, they will help us, in the ancient reciprocal gift economy of living beings.
Will you join me and pick up a shovel? Plant, Baby, Plant!