From FOMO to Decolonization: How Raking My Yard Made Me Question Suburban Landscaping

This Easter long weekend, I had a thought about decolonizing the land while I was raking the leaves and dead grass on my lawn. This Spring yard clean up was spurred about because I saw several neighbours doing the same while I was on my walk with my husband and dog around the neighbourhood. Each time I saw a new resident of my neighbourhood, outside in the warm Spring weather and raking the dead leaves into piles on their yard, I felt the universe telling me that the time was now, this long weekend, for me to do the same. I know that I typically suffer from the fear of missing out (FOMO) and that humans are social creatures that can fall prey to peer pressure and societal suggestions. For instance, the commonly done "elevator experiment" where a stranger turns to face the back of the elevator when everyone else in the elevator is doing the same, demonstrates the power of groupthink and how we instinctively want to belong to a group. In my case, I wished to belong to my neighbourhood and rake my yard too, so that I could feel at ease about having a cleaner lawn.

As I was raking the leaves, which was a sweaty, dusty, hot, and laboursome activity, my mind started to wander. Initially, I thought, 'why did I start this project when I am already so tired?' and 'how long would this entire yard take for me to finish raking?' My brain started to create excuses for stopping this activity, such as, 'in previous years, I waited until May long weekend to clean up the yard because Facebook gardening groups said it was good for little insects and critters dormant in the leaves to 'sleep in' more after the winter.' But the seal was broken already and I was already on my way to creating patches of raked areas on my lawn; there was no turning back. I also started to sift through the leaves carefully to make sure there were no insects and critters that I could see - but there were none. Perhaps they were too small for me to see. Regardless, it was in this phase that I began to think about decolonizing the land I was working on and that perhaps my raking away the natural leaves by force was an act of colonizing.

What would this land look like, if settlers and colonizers like me and my neighbours did not disturb it? The leaves would simply sit there and accumulate over the years. The bottommost layers would decompose and return nutrients to the land, completing a nutrient cycle with the trees and the soil. But my act of raking up the leaves and discarding them elsewhere was depriving the land of its nutrients and disrupting its natural cycle. I thought of how suburban homeowners like me spend money on factory-made fertilizers and spread it on lawns to make them look greener and healthier. What if we all just stopped? Would our lawns look the same anymore? But even the idea of a well-manicured green grass lawn is disruptive to the natural landscape of the land that I live on, which is historically a mix of prairie and forest. So why was I forcing this land to become something it is not? Then I began thinking about where the dead leaves I was raking came from, which were from the tall elm trees planted by the city planners when they planned this neighbourhood back in the 1950s. Did these trees even belong in this area? Why were they even planted here? For aesthetic reasons, of course. One of the reasons why we moved to this neighbourhood was the tall trees lining both sides of the road and the additional grass boulevards that ensured the sidewalks had grass on both sides. But I wonder if such landscaped designs are actually efficient use of land and ecologically harmonious with mother nature. I began to think about how even just a few years ago, our lawn was burnt in heatwaves and how we watered the heck out of the yard so it would stay greenish, even if it meant paying higher water bills. This was all for the image of having a nice property with green grass, even in an unprecedented heatwave. Thankfully, we did not have a water ban, so the watering was perfectly allowed. But was that a sustainable thing to do? As the planet warms increasingly and climate shifts over the years, I am sure heatwaves and burning grass lawns could become a more frequent occurrence here. Eventually, the unnaturally green lawns would become Frankenstein-like and ill-matched with the surrounding natural areas which would be brown, similar to the synthetic and unnatural look of green golf courses in the middle of deserts. So why do I favour green grass so much? Was this a sign of my own colonized view of land how internalized this colonized view was? Why does colonizer culture prefer green lawns rather than other kinds? Was this related to the green pastures in Western Europe?

These questions need more researching and reflection for me to fully understand how suburban lawns are a sign of colonization. For me and my property, I vow to incorporate more natural vegetation into the landscaping so that it is more climate resistant and in harmony with nature. It is my way of decolonizing the land from being forced to look a certain colonized way. This entire reflection on land and yards reminded me of my ancestors from Korea, and how traditional Korean gardens differ from traditional Japanese gardens. I was told that Koreans gardeners prioritized living in harmony with nature, thus traditional Korean gardens blended in natural beauty with features of a garden such as curved paths and hidden-away pagodas. But the Japanese gardeners prized minimalist zen-inspired clean, sharp lines and geometric shapes, which is not naturally found in nature and thus require more upkeep and maintenance. It is also interesting to note that the Japanese were a colonizing force in World War II, while the Koreans were victims of such imperialism. As I reflect on this historical side note and how land cultivation reflects your philosophical preferences and worldview, I reflected on desiring to work in harmony with nature and to complement natural beauty of the Indigenous lands, rather than forcing the land to do and look like certain things by putting in unnecessary amounts of labour and resources such as fertilizers and water. From an innocent raking chore on an Easter long weekend, I came to this reflection on decolonizing the land we live on, and making conscious decisions about how our lawns and gardens look like based on our worldviews. To decolonize the land, I would first need to learn about its natural features, and research how to cultivate a climate-thriving landscape that requires little to no maintenance. Letting go of control of the land, could be the solution to decolonizing lawns and yards. As a settler that is concerned about committing to decolonization, this is one small way for me to contribute, and something that I can put into action this year. It starts with me, and perhaps I could start a movement of change, just like how I was influenced by my neighbours to begin raking my fallen leaves. This is how I envision decolonization will occur, as more and more people awaken to their colonized realities and make conscious efforts to decolonize and disrupt our commonly-held beliefs about society and various cultural norms that we never bothered to question and think more deeply about.