A view from Katahdin Mountain, where Maulian (Dana) Bryant goes to pray each year. “I’m invigorated when I work in the State House, may it be Augusta or Washington, D.C.,” she said. “But I still battle this very real conflict, entering a system I know wasn’t meant for me. As an adult, I find nature to be a healing place; it restores my energy so I can go out and do the work I need to do.” Maulien (Dana) Bryant photo

Wabanaki people have developed their understanding of the environment through close observance of the changing landscape over time. As such, state and local land trusts have turned to Indigenous wisdom, looking to integrate ancient methods of stewardship into decision-making. 

Maulian (Dana) Bryant, tribal ambassador for the Penobscot Nation, was recently appointed co-chairperson of the Maine Climate Council Subcommittee on Equity, a new role she said focuses on incorporating Indigenous knowledge into state plans. 

According to Bryant, we all have eco-anxiety, and the Wabanaki people are no different, which is why it’s essential to wrestle tough questions together. 

At Harpswell Heritage Land Trust’s annual meeting July 9, Bryant gave a presentation on generation thinking; through ancient teaching, she offered insight on Indigenous land management, offering solutions to foster a more balanced relationship with Mother Nature as a collective. 

Land management

There used to be 25 tribal nations in Maine, but now there are four: the Maliseet, Mi’kmaq, Passamaquoddy and Penobscot — the Wabanaki nations.

In the 1970s, the Passamaquoddy tribe discovered that nearly two-thirds of the state was illegally seized; the treaties enacted were never ratified by the federal government. As a result, the tribes and the federal government entered into a lawsuit against the state.

Bryant is president of the Wabanaki Alliance, a nonprofit working to amend the legislation passed as a result of the lawsuit, which she believes significantly restricted tribal sovereignty.

“The disruption to our sacred connection to the land was traumatic,” Bryant said. “But we can’t dwell on the past. We have to move forward as one, featuring the voices of those on the front lines of global warming. Whether weatherizing homes or transitioning toward clean energy, we must take these next steps together.” 

Reflecting on the core difference in how Wabanaki people see the world, Bryant said there’s a belief that natural resources — land and water — are not to be owned and conquered but instead are tools to be cared for and used sparingly. Moreover, ancient teachings emphasize the connection between the environment’s health and human well-being.

Maulian (Dana) Bryant presents “Generational Thinking: Wabanaki Wisdom for Climate Resilience and Community Land Management” July 9 to members of Harpswell Heritage Land Trust. Laura Sitterly / The Times Record

“It’s been hard for us to watch colonialist ‘progress’ unfold when it goes against our values — to take only what is needed and preserve the rest,” Bryant said. “But in many ways, we’re in the same boat. We are modern people trying to navigate this new world while honoring ancient whisperings of the past.” 

Wabanaki wisdom

Bryant shared a story her father told her as a child. They used to walk to the nearby brook and observe local wildlife. Because much early Wabanaki culture was not recorded, elders often maintained ancient teachings through oral tradition. 

“One morning, the village awoke to find the Penobscot River dry — fish were flopping around, and the animals were confused. Everyone began to panic … the water was their life source. They sent a scout to the Riverhead to see what had happened. He bravely ventured out, surprised to find a frog monster with two enormous eyes and a gurgly mouth. He asked the beast where all the water had gone. Laughing, water spitting from his mouth, the monster said he drank it because he was big and strong and could take what pleased.” 

Aglebemu was a giant lake monster of Wabanaki legend who dammed up the St. John River in Penobscot Bay, causing a drought. Ultimately, the cultural hero Glooskap defeated him — he tore a pine tree from the earth, smashed the monster and turned him into a bullfrog. When the water returned to the village, the roots where the tree once was became new tributaries. 

“This tale reminds us not to hoard resources just because we can,” Bryant said. “There’s an acknowledgment of danger but then a pathway to healing emerges. From this unfortunate incident, new streams were formed, bringing the gift of water to more people than before.” 

‘I’m hopeful for the future’

Bryant said she has noticed, over the past five years, an uptick in nonprofits that have contacted the Wabanaki Alliance, curious about what it means to support tribal sovereignty and share Maine’s natural resources. 

As a result, Indigenous communities have been able to launch successful land-back campaigns.

The Penobscot, for example, teamed up with the Trust for Public Land to purchase 31,000 acres of sacred land near Mount Katahdin. They are in the process of repaying those loans so the property can be returned to Indigenous care. 

Land trusts, like the Harpswell Heritage Land Trust, have gotten involved, too. As the need for affordable housing persists, so does the question of land management.

Part of Bryant’s work with the climate council involves rethinking existing infrastructure, such as rezoning developed and abandoned parcels for public use, as well as strengthening the existing housing stock to withstand inclement weather patterns. 

“I am hopeful for the future,” Bryant said. “I believe there are ways to meet our state’s needs while keeping sacred land uninhibited. It just requires shifting priorities.” 

Living on the Penobscot reservation and raising three daughters there, Bryant said her optimism is constantly reinforced when she sees the work tribal groups are accomplishing.

The community of Sipayik, also known as Pleasant Point,, near Eastport, suffered a significant loss of property after the consecutive January storms. Situated directly on the coast, fisheries were impacted, threatening access to hunting of porpoise, lobster and scallops. 

“In the spring, the tribe started a climate resilience group,” Bryant said. “Now, they are spearheading new initiatives — hosting workshops for window inserts and co-op solar, implementing a food sovereignty program, and pushing for weatherization.” 

Embracing Indigenous knowledge, as Maine is trying to do, can improve how state governments manage ecosystems and natural resources. It can also deepen scientists’ understanding of their research by providing fresh perspectives to understanding their field of work. 

“There are anthropologists and attorneys rising through the ranks, working on research projects with UMaine and integrating Indigenous knowledge into their subject areas,” Bryant said. “It’s neat for me, turning 40, to pause and see how much progress has taken place in just a matter of decades.” 

Maulian (Dana) Bryant said she often takes her three daughters — ages 2, 15 and 17 — to the Penobscot River to connect with nature. Maulian (Dana) Bryant photo

Climate resilience

During the Q&A portion of the land trust meeting, Communications Director Amelia Graham asked Bryant what recommendations she had for coastal communities, like Penobscot Bay, battling sea level rise and storms. 

After the January storms, Indian Island’s power was out for four days. The tribe used American Rescue Plan Act funding to provide generators to households with elders. 

Bryant recalled the roar and wave of fumes that floated overhead.

“Climate change brought these storms, and our reaction — emitting more pollutants — only worsens the problem,” she said. “We need to burst through our silos and ideate solutions before more storms return.” 

Researchers have recognized the wealth of knowledge Indigenous groups have amassed. In fact, peer-reviewed journals have published studies demonstrating that around the world, Indigenous-managed lands have far more biodiversity intact than other lands. 

So, where do we go from here? Bryant emphasized that forcing Indigenous people out of protected areas they help manage and rely on is not the way to achieve climate goals; instead, welcoming them to the conversation can help Maine reach collective milestones. 

“Generations of Wabanaki people were devoted to caring for this land,” Bryant said. “It’s only natural to include us in climate conversations. Our teachings can help transform perspectives and cultivate a more mindful connection to the spaces we call home.”