In my work as an engineer and community partner living in Minneapolis, I often think about how systems can fail and how they can flourish.
The seeds: how I found out about The Serviceberry
Over these past few months, as the agonizing chaos has quieted to conversation and care, for me, mentions of one book have resolved from the chatter—Robin Wall Kimmerer’s The Serviceberry—a guidebook, of sorts, written by an indigenous doctorate in ecology, which teaches readers about what economic interactions might look like if they were based on mutualism and reciprocity rather than scarcity and consumption. It wasn’t until a good friend recommended it, followed by another, plus a page-through at the bookstore that I finally picked it up. Expecting a trail mix of poetry and biology, what I found ended up being much more: clear and actionable insights for living life well, a mirror reflecting the same values that my Bangladeshi family and upbringing in Minnesota instilled in me, and perspectives on how we can treat each other better.
The sprouts: my key takeaways
Kimmerer’s teachings are simple and salient:
- The gift vs. the commodity: a berry paid for off the shelf is a transaction; a berry picked for a neighbor is a relationship—a conversation. One ends when the money changes hands; the other creates a cycle of reciprocity.
- Biological mutualism: a bee doesn’t “steal” nectar; it carries life to the next flower. For plants and trees, in their immobility, the bee enables a sort of mobility. In nature, mutualistic interactions like these aren’t altruistic accidents, but rather a kind of circuitry—efficient exchanges that serve a broader system—sustaining the entire forest, for example.
- Circulating surplus: in nature, “surplus” is circulated, not a hoarded profit; it’s a gift that must be shared before it rots. In a commodity economy, we may “buffer” (hoard) resources to mitigate risk and create security based on artificial scarcity. In a gift economy, the “throughput” (the circulation of berries or skills) is the security. Abundance isn’t the amount of fruit on the tree; it’s the efficiency with which that fruit moves through the community. If the berries stay on the branch or are hoarded by a few, they rot—the system falters. If they move, the community is fed, seeds are spread, and the system grows.
- From tragedy to triumph: We are often taught the Tragedy of the Commons—the idea that shared resources will inevitably be depleted by individual greed. Kimmerer flips this: when we shift from “consumer” to “community member,” the Commons becomes an Abundance of Community. Look at public libraries: they are a prime example of this collective trust. They don’t go empty because people “take” books; they stay full because the community values the cycle of borrowing and returning. What other forms can this take?
Seashells to snowballs: bridging Bangladesh and Minnesota
Cycles of reciprocity show up in countless ways, but especially in two from my life that feel especially relevant to me right now:
- The Bengali table: While growing up, and to this day, the concept of barkat (collective prosperity) has been in the underlying code of our family’s operating system, and of the families’ around us. My parents never cooked for just four people; they cooked for six, thinking often about the family members, friends, and neighbors around us—our village.
- Minneapolis winters: Here in Minnesota, the Serviceberry (or Juneberry) is one of the first signs of life after a long winters. Like the Bengali diaspora, it is hardy, deep-rooted, and generous. As the snow thaws, I see the idea of a “gift economy” persist in my communities as it has through rallies for George Floyd, the COVID pandemic, and ICE activity: neighbors help pay each others’ rent, provide food and supplies through mutual aid networks, donate money, shovel each other out, and share garden harvests. We realize that, especially in a harsh conditions—whether social, environmental, or economic—we survive through collective care, not selfish silos.
Tactical teachings for advocates of local gifting economies
How do we apply “serviceberry logic” to our daily lives?
- The “plus-one” protocol: try to prepare a little more than you need—whether it’s food, time, or resources—keeping an eye out for those in need of our surpluses.
- Return the Tupperware full: In Bengali culture, you try not to return an empty container. This turns a one-time gift into a perpetual cycle of connections.
- Recognize “enoughness”: We live in an economy that constantly urges us to consume more than we need, so every choice we make matters. The choice to notice “enoughness” can free us from the urge to constantly consume.
- The open-source life and a teaching mindset: our knowledge can be thought of as our most valuable fruit. Dedicating time to teaching others a craft without a paywall or sharing a skill isn’t giving away your competitive edge; it’s a way to upgrade the entire community’s operating system.
- Build “public scaffolding”: In engineering, subsystems coordinate with and support each other via nodes or junctions. In life, this can take the form of niches for sharing like a “Little Free Library,” a neighborhood tool-share, food bank, or a recurring “open studio” where people can gather to learn. By building infrastructure for community interaction, we plant a “tree” that others can harvest from. In Bangladesh, indigenous communities like the Chakma have practiced these ideas for centuries through Village Common Forests.
Conclusions: The Honorable Harvest
We often hear it’s a dog-eat-dog world, a narrative that drives us to compete, extract, and hoard. But The Serviceberry and my own heritage tell a different story. Kimmerer speaks of the “Honorable Harvest”—a vision and set of principles for giving and taking in a way that sustains the giver as much as the taker. It reminds us that the world has enough for everyone, and that all flourishing is mutual.
This book helped me recognize the possibility for a world where, by applying “serviceberry ethics” in daily life though acts however small or large, we might shift our collective operations from transaction and consumption-based to more conversation and circulation-based. While the world will never rely entirely on “gifting,” I think cultivating it in the places we can is a step in the right direction. Our resources shouldn’t remain as stagnant pools, fenced in, but rather flowing river systems that nurture the life around them as much as they can—and as much as we let them. I’m with Kimmerer; let’s avoid trying to “own” the harvest and learn to better honor the cycles that feed us all.
Thanks for reading.
Click through for more of my notes on books, the Stand with Minnesota Donation Directory, and a little bonus for reading this far.
Ishmam Ahmed 