Champions of Nature #25

Robin McGee

This is a series of flash interviews with people I admire, people who are doing something—anything, a lot of things—for the Earth. These folks walk the walk, each of them in their own way, using their own unique skillset. They dedicate their energy, their time, and their hearts to a crucial cause: the preservation of this precious planet we call home.

All photos courtesy of Robin McGee

Ask Robin McGee to describe herself and her passions, and you’ll get a list of some wonderful-sounding things. She’s a:

• wildcrafter

• community herbalist

• organic gardener

• educator

• grandmother and great-grandmother

• feral cat whisperer

In my neck of the woods, Robin is known as the green goddess of Earthwise Learning Center, an herbal school she established on the family farm in Anderson, South Carolina where she lives with her husband, Mac. There she teaches herbal medicine classes and workshops, leads woodland plant identification walks, and creates herb-based remedies and other products.

It all started more than two decades ago, when Robin studied with internationally renowned herbalists including Rosemary Gladstar, Matthew Wood, Phyllis D. Light, Darryl Patton, and Kate Gilday, as well as indigenous healers and shamans Rocio Alarcon and Dona Enriqueta Contreras. Once she had developed her own skill base, the young herbalist became a popular instructor at herbal medicine conferences all over the eastern United States. 

At home, Robin taught classes in her living room … until her following grew and she needed more space. Her gaze fell on a rundown building at the back of her property, a place called “the car house” that hosted gatherings of farmers from the local community for 30 years. In recent times, it had morphed into a storehouse full of musty junk.

Robin explains what happened next: “I went down there to the car house, did a claiming ceremony, prayed over it, named my intentions, and got out of the way to allow the Universe or Creator or God or whatever title one chooses, to put everything into place.”

Two dumpsters full of junk later, the building was empty and Robin “stretched out on the floor, exhausted but thrilled, and wept with joy.”

Then began the work of bringing a broken-down building back to life. Robin recalls that “Every morning for weeks I was down there before sunrise, singing, working, planning, allowing Spirit to move. I could feel and hear the distant voices and laughter from the men who had once gathered there. I knew I had to honor their memory.”

Now, she says, “Earthwise Learning Center is my dream come to fruition … a sacred space where I can honor all who came before me—the plants, the trees, the people—by telling stories, teaching plant medicine, and helping usher in the next generation of herbalists in this hot, humid South.”

Robin has a simple yet profound mission: “I will continue to teach as long as I am able, and honor my own teachers—especially those sentient beings, the Trees—all the days of my life.”

Here’s what Robin shared with me about her lifelong connection to the green world:

1. Robin, please tell me about some of your early experiences in nature.

I grew up and still live in Anderson, South Carolina. My fondest early memories are centered around being in nature with either my Granny or my Daddy. I was too young to venture out of eyesight; at least that’s what they said, anyway.

My first trip to the river was with my Granny when I was maybe 3 or 4. It was a typical scorching summer day. Granny had been working the garden all morning per usual, and after dinner (that’s lunch, for those who ain’t from around here), she decided we should go stick our feet in the river. We carefully climbed through the barbed wire fence, crossed the huge pasture, and entered the woods. I remember being happy to be out of the sun. (Still not a fan!) As we moved through the cool shade I felt—no, I knew—that we had entered a different world. A beautiful, magical green world entirely different from the world I had known until then. A world that didn’t make sense, the world I now refer to as “the land of delusion.”

The sound of the water reached into my soul and slowed my thumping heartbeat. The cold current pulled the pounding from my head and cooled my flaming hot skin. The teeny bits of sunlight that made it through the thick green canopy danced and sparkled on the water like diamond fairies. Watching those fairies while being lulled by the sound of rushing water over rocks sent me into a dream state. I felt safe. I felt protected, and loved. Not just by my Granny but by the sentient Beings that surrounded me…the TREES! I could feel them. They knew me. I was home.

When it was time to head back to the house I didn’t want to leave, but a small child has little control over such decisions. As we stepped out of the woods and back into the full sun to cross the pasture, I knew I would find my way back to the trees, the water, the magic. And I have to admit stopping to pick blackberries on the way back to Granny’s house helped ease the transition a bit.

I remember being curious, listening to my Granny talk to flowers as she hoed the weeds and “moody grass” that was trying to take over their spot. I asked once, “Granny, who are you talking to?” In her serious, no-nonsense voice she replied, “These flowers, child. Can’t you see their faces?” Well, as a matter of fact, I could see their faces. I just didn’t think anyone else could!

I spent the weekends with my Daddy. On Sundays he liked to drive out to Hartwell Lake to “see how far up the water is now.” But my favorite Sunday outings were day trips to the mountains. He was especially fond of Caesar’s Head. The view there was great, but I preferred being in the trees. On the way back home he liked to stop at the overlook that at my last visit was sadly covered in graffiti. Again, the view was great, but that little stream nearby was my favorite spot. Cool, mountain water, trees and shade. Home.

When I had to start school, I was always accused of daydreaming and having an “active imagination.” But the thing was, I wasn’t imagining. I was merely sharing my world, the world of magical places and trees who knew me. Maybe at times I appeared to be daydreaming. I was actually longing for the safety, acceptance and compassion of the real-to-me world, the world of plants and trees and fairy lights dancing on water. I spent much of my elementary school years hiding in trees to escape the world of delusion, the world where many adults were too busy or too mean for my tender little heart.

The Mimosa tree was my friend. I now know that she is good medicine for a broken heart. She certainly tended mine. Those fragrant fairy flowers lifted my spirits and welcomed me into their healing, magical realm. I was home.

2. How did those early experiences shape your relationship with the natural world?

I’ve spent much of my life seeking the magical places. And every time I step into the woods, a forest, a river, a garden, or gaze up to admire a green canopy and stately trees, I know I am home. I go to the plants and trees for comfort when I’m sad or feel lost, escape when I get too in my head, safety when I become overwhelmed by the craziness and negativity in the land of delusion, healing when I am injured or ill, and for joy...because plants and trees! I am home there; they know me. Sometimes just lying in a bed of chickweed is all one needs to re-member. To this day I love the taste of wild foods. Plums and blackberries were always cooling treats on a hot southern summer day. And I am fiercely protective of these Beings, the plants and trees who sustain me and have always been my friends.

3. How do you connect with nature now … either through your work or leisure or both?

   Connected to nature is a natural state of being for me. I’ve spent decades

   studying the healing properties and traditional uses of plants and trees. I was

   blessed to sit with many renowned and some not so well known but

   highly respected herbalists, authors and shamans. As life changing as it all has

   been, the plants and trees have always been and will always be my greatest

   teachers.

   I have created several specialty gardens and woodland plantings to give some of

   our over-harvested medicinal plants a home and a place to just be—a safe place

   where they are watched over, protected, loved, and known. They are home.

   My first thoughts when I wake every morning are 1.) Is it still early enough to see

   the deer out my kitchen window? 2.) I have to feed the cats that Creator sent for

   me to tend, 3.) Open the curtains so the outside can come inside and I can see the

   trees. It’s really nice living under a magical green canopy.

   My life is filled with harvesting plants/trees/fungi for food and medicine, feeding

   cats again, making salves, creams, tinctures, syrups, and infused oils. I also teach classes on all those subjects, introducing people to plants. And I regularly walk in the woods behind my house, singing to the plants and trees, asking them “What can I do for you today?” Then I meditate in the garden, praying for All Our Relations. And feed the cats. Again. Through it all, I’m feeling gratitude that I am blessed to be living the dreamstate. I am home.

   

   Earthwise Learning Center: The renovated schoolhouse where Robin teaches her herbal classes and workshops

4. What are your biggest fears for the future of our planet?

   I don’t dwell on fear and fearful things, as I find it counter-productive and counter-intuitive. I have to be in my heartspace to do my work and to be my true self. There is no room for fear here.

   I really had to give this question some thought, so here goes. I fear that so many people don’t remember that everything is connected and what we do to one, we do to the whole. The loss of habitat for the plants and trees; over-harvesting; loss of natural resources. Manufactured distractions, created divisions to keep folks in an uproar and not focused on protecting children and the earth that holds and sustains us. Thinking that “It’s just a tree.” Pesticides, herbicides, pollution of all sorts, big ag practices, big pharma, climate geoengineering, the medical-industrial complex, a controlled narrative believed. Self-doubt: “I can’t make a difference.”

   No matter how small we may feel, everything we do does make a difference, good and bad.

 

5. What is your biggest hope for the future of our planet?

   That more people will see through the veil, the land of delusion and disconnect. I hope people will stop buying into the narrative of doom and

   gloom, and not be consumed by social media. Get outside and look for the magic! We find what we seek. What we focus on and give our energy to becomes our reality. I’m not saying we should totally dismiss the things I mentioned in my response to the previous question. We have to be aware. But what we focus on, dwell on, and feed is what we grow. Personally, I prefer to see the magic and mystery every day in everything!

   The children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of today will determine the

   future of our planet. It is up to us to teach them well. My prayer is that we are

   teaching them respect for all of nature and helping them see, feel, seek, and

   know the magic and wonder of lush green canopies, cold mountain rivers, wild

   foods and medicines, and fairy lights dancing on water. Then they will know they are home, and they will protect it.

Thank you, Robin, for being a Champion of Nature!