ABSTRACT
Creosote, a scrubby desert bush that scientists refer to as Larrea tridenta, has gured prominently in my own teaching and research for many years. I rst learned about this plant and the stories the Indigenous O’odham of North America tell about it in the late 1990s. The tiny, resinous leaves of creosote smell like rain when they are crushed in your ngers and always remind me of the years I was driving back and forth between Tucson, Arizona, and Sells, Arizona, the capital of the Tohono O’odham Nation. I was teaching college-prep composition and literature courses, sponsored by the University of Arizona, for O’odham high students. To get to the high school, located close to the US-Mexico border, I would drive through miles of creosote and other desert plants. I write about these experiences in American Indian Literature, Environmental Justice, and Ecocriticism (3-14).
