An ecosystem doesn’t care what we call them, nor do birds, bacteria, or other wild creatures. A fact irrelevant to the birds, the Council of the American Ornithological Society announced in November of 2023 a plan to rename all eponymous, offensive, or exclusionary English common bird names in its domain. This move was essential for welcoming a diversity of human voices into the fold and an important step for repairing the harm done by derogatory bird names.
People have been here, knowing and caring for these creatures and ecosystems for ages. Calling these creatures something is an important step in knowing and caring for them. We all have names for the people, places, and living things we love, but they don’t usually come top-down. A scientific governing body declaring naming rights to creatures in the first place is a bit awkward and presumptuous. None of these names change the behaviors of these birds, their songs, diet, habitats, or migratory patterns. Nevertheless, by shifting bird names to more descriptive, place-based monikers, the CAOS has shifted towards a more inclusive nomenclature system and opened access to a more egalitarian world of birds.
In a Wild Seed Project teacher training last August, we were challenged to name plants we didn’t know based on their characteristics and what we noticed. When the plants’ common names or scientific names were revealed, they ended up feeling a little dull against the shine of our imaginations. I can’t even remember the common name for what one participant named “fluffy kitten tail grass.” In a previous column, I went as far as to summarize one of Marshall Rosenberg’s principles of nonviolent communication: “using language that relies on observation, feelings, needs, and requests can create a peaceful and interdependent world.” Language is an essential tool for preventing and repairing harm, nurturing our kin, and creatively reimagining a world where we all belong.
Here is where some conflict is arising for some of MOFGA’s work on climate and equity. Until the end of January, my climate work at MOFGA was underway, with Inflation Reduction Act (IRA) funds hard at work. Through a Partnership for Climate-Smart Commodities grant, of which MOFGA was a sub-awardee, we had been passing funds through to farmers to fund conservation and climate resilience practices and projects on their farms. Under the new federal administration, money will not flow to causes using direct language to describe climate change and equity.
Alongside nonprofits globally, MOFGA built climate and equity programs with IRA money that expanded access to federal funds for community and agricultural climate resilience. We intentionally used language and outreach activities to invite people of all backgrounds to access these funds. We were able to begin bridging the gap between federal bureaucracy and community needs to address agricultural resiliency.
Why do we even need federal funds? And what is the purpose of using them for conservation and climate adaptation? These are questions that were frequently posed in the comments sections of articles covering press events demanding the reinstatement of frozen funds. The Natural Resources Conservation Service (NRCS) was born from the devastation of the Dust Bowl. On April 27, 1935, Congress passed Public Law 74-46, in which it recognized that “the wastage of soil and moisture resources on farm, grazing, and forest lands … is a menace to the national welfare.” The federal government acknowledged that soil conservation practices done on private land contribute to public security. Since then, the NRCS has been funding resource conservation projects on private land.
It hasn’t been smooth sailing since the inception of the agency. As reported in detail by Nikole Hannah-Jones in “The 1619 Project,” the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s historically racist lending and resource distribution processes continue to shape our society today. Black farmers have faced land loss, production disruption, and unfair distribution of these conservation funds. The funding from the IRA gave federal institutions and nonprofits the opportunity to begin work on repairing some of those wrongs.
It feels like chasing my tail to write on the specifics of federal funding right now. Those of us working in federal funds have been rocked since Inauguration Day 2025. All federal grants and loans were frozen, then just grants, then the programs entered a review process followed by rebranding, re-budgeting, new timelines, and cancellations. Press releases from U.S. Secretary of Agriculture Brook Rollins severely misrepresented the pre-existing programs as “left wing climate programs”; “serving as a Green New Scam slush fund for non-governmental organizations”; and serving “woke priorities.” Language seems to make a difference in public perception of our work.
What is happening to our federal funds and the language we are using to talk about our work? Our USDA Partnership for Climate-Smart Commodities grant through Pasa has been formally cancelled. Pasa has the option to resubmit an application under new priorities, with new criteria and entirely scrubbed of climate language. The rebranded program is called Advancing Markets for Producers. New legislation contains proposed cuts to USDA: “The request aims to reduce the Farm Service Agency, which supports farm loans, conservation and disaster assistance, by $372 million. It would shrink the Natural Resources Conservation Service from $916 million to $112 million.”
Federal use of “climate change” language has been on a roller coaster since late January. On January 31, 2025, the federal government ordered the removal of references to climate change on public websites, including disabling the “climate risk viewer” and other interactive tools that farmers and the rest of the public use to project climate patterns and plan for viability. Some legal challenges to these changes have been successful. On May 12, the federal government lost a lawsuit that alleged that the removal of this language and resources violated public access and hindered farmers’ ability to navigate agricultural challenges. USDA was forced to restore this data.
How are we moving forward and how is the language we use part of that? As MOFGA, how do we continue with the essential work of building relationships with marginalized communities and providing funds and services for climate resilience without using direct language to accomplish this? If federal funds are dependent on us describing our work in the terms of new executive priorities, can our work still be honest, trustworthy, and possible? What is the difference between administrative language and the personal language we use with one another? Can we subvert the harmful priorities of the 47th administration while operating within them? What is the role of language in our work?
The International Astronomical Union names objects in space that are beyond our understanding. These celestial bodies have been cycling through existence for millennia. Stars, galaxies, the universe by any other name would still burst into life — glaring, twirling, and exploding in relation with one another. Our human compulsion to address these features with nomenclature does not distract or disrupt the movements of their bodies. Can we make like the stars and keep building, nurturing, and evolving our relationships to our terrestrial neighbors, despite the language we use to talk about them?
– Meg Mitchell, MOFGA’s Climate Smart and Organic Transition Specialist
This article was originally published in the fall 2025 issue of The Maine Organic Farmer & Gardener.