Dandelions on the Lawn of Empire is the seventh in a series of essays on the Spirit of Water by the Water Stewards II. Published in the Marquette Monthly March, 2025.
– Lanni Lantto
My mother passed down a story to me that has remained with me. She recalls that as a young girl, her grandmother would pick dandelions from the church lawn after mass to bring home and cook for her family. I remember thinking, “People eat dandelions? Aren’t they weeds?”
My great-grandmother, Nellie transitioned at the age of 110 years old. My mother and I, along with my grandfather Paul, would make trips to the Italian neighborhoods of Sault Ste. Marie i.e. Bawating in Ojibwe. In her long smock apron, she would take me out to her small garden that bordered an old alley. She showed me her tomatoes and beautiful colorful array of flowers but sadly, one thing we never did together was eat dandelions. I wish she would’ve passed on her knowledge to me because I spent the majority of my life being taught that they were, by their nature, delinquent beings.
My teachers were the cultural narratives with the loudest most dominant voices. The language of empire encompassed politics, religion, history and even the food pyramid. I navigated their narratives with a mix of blind trust and guarded skepticism. Within empire, dysfunction shape-shifts so deceptively that one can assimilate into the muck without knowing they are even in it. It can be really hard to find healthy soil. So, I left the trappings and walls of empire and entered into the wilderness.
To truly know what a dandelion was I had to spend time with them. I watched how its waterproof seed head dispersed seeds over considerable odds. It resiliently burst through the concrete of our retaining wall; it grew back after being mowed over, it offered a haven to the pollinating bees, and my daughter would poke the circular droplets of water that formed atop the yellow bouquet with her fingertip. She giggled as she saw her own reflection within the water and it was as if her soul was meeting healthy soil.
There was no dominant voice telling me what to believe, no TV, no black screens separating me from this true reality. There was no manipulation or polarizing sides; it was neither ‘right’ nor ‘wrong’ it simply was. It was fulfilling its purpose within a wider ecosystem simply by being alive (and dying). The dandelion grows in a place devoid of labels and names such as ‘dandelion’. Within the natural world, there exists a water purification system filtering out bacteria through layers of soil, sand, and rock. It becomes purified at its roots so it can become a source of health and healing. Its presence illuminates an alternative path within the world where a weed becomes a remedy.
The dandelion doesn’t get to choose where it grows. It must take its inner knowledge with it wherever it lands. It can grow on a manicured lawn alongside a blue campaign sign, it can grow on a wild lawn alongside a red campaign sign. That is because there is a deep ancient wisdom within each seed that transcends empire. It’s the kind of remedy that I want to partake of- the kind that I want to tell my children about. That to be a healing dandelion is to be able to grow in all types of landscapes and be therapeutic without barriers.
As I sat among the dandelions, I was allowing them to become my new teachers. I asked for their ability to grow alongside “sides” without judgment. To be emptied of the emotional attachment that kept me fenced in by anxiety & depression, rage & grief. That as well intentioned as the food pyramid guidance was supposed to be, that in reality it was killing a part of me. To be a dandelion on the lawn of empire is to rise above dysfunction in all its forms. Those are the dandelions to water.
I’m a part of a circle where we have water present in the form of hot tea. Each one of us is grateful for that refreshment although we each may choose a different tea variety—dandelion included. I’m not sure which part of empire each of us has been developed by, but I do know that we are all there seeking healing. We know that the only ones we can truly change are ourselves. So we are committed to the daily hard task of purifying our roots. To look at what formed us and how we became who we are and then, from that understanding, move towards who we want to be. It’s the most counter cultural task of our lifetimes: to become the remedy and pass on the wisdom of the dandelion to our children.
– Lanni Lantto
Lanni is curator of the local non-profits U.P. Wild Church and Shepherds of the Wilderness. She and her family are currently breaking the cycles of generational dysfunction and helping others do the same through community healing circles.
