What does Indigenous storytelling say about the moon?

By Amanda Marcotte 

Rockford McKay was six years old and awestruck as he watched the historic 1969 moon landing of Apollo 11. The University of Manitoba science and education alum says he never imagined, decades later, he would be contributing to space travel by sharing Indigenous knowledges.

McKay [BSc/89, BEd/92] is collaborating with researchers at UM’s STARLab and the Winnipeg division of Magellan Aerospace on CubeSat, a milk-carton-sized satellite being built to orbit the moon. The device will shoot a dart-like probe to the moon’s surface to map and collect data. When the satellite launches in late 2027, it will be the first of its kind made in Canada.

The $6.9-million project—funded by the Canadian Space Agency—includes bridging western space science with Indigenous understanding of our star system. Conventional navigation tools don’t work in the moon’s orbit.

“When you are going to the moon you don’t have GPS or compasses. So what do you have to rely on?” says McKay, who is an Anishinaabe educator and science facilitator with the Manitoba First Nations Education Resource Centre.

McKay explains that many First Nations calendars are based on 13 moon cycles, instead of the 12-month calendar. Each moon has special significance.

“For us it was used to keep time… It was a way to follow activities and life,” says McKay. 

The third moon, which is generally in March, is the Goose Moon, when the geese come back for summer and it’s time for goose hunting. The fourth moon is the Frog Moon, when frogs awaken from hibernation. The fifth moon represents egg-laying as geese start laying eggs during that time of year. 

When used for navigation, the moon and stars also helped Indigenous peoples predict high and low tide, and the safest time to travel.

The moon is referred to as Grandmother Moon, and the sun is Grandfather Sun—they’re so intertwined that it’s hard to talk about one without the other, McKay says. The moon is also weaved into many animal narratives.

“When you look at the woodland turtle, there’s 13 big plates. Those plates are the 13 moons,” he explains. “There are 28 smaller plates on the turtle shell, representing the menstrual cycle.”

That harkens to Turtle Island as Mother Earth, the giver of life. Each First Nation has its own stories about the moon, and women in particular have their own teachings. But McKay says there are some moon stories that share similarities.

He spoke about one he calls “our Cinderella story.”

There’s a young boy whose parents die and he must live with another family, who ends up working him to the bone. He’s forced to bring water back to the dwelling. He couldn’t do it any longer and wanted another life. Grandmother Moon saw how poorly he was treated, so she brings him to the moon and takes care of him there. 

“You see him carrying two buckets of water on the moon… The Water Boy on the Moon,” says McKay.

Grandmother moon is always a helper, providing protection.

He says many students try to clarify: are these real stories? It’s the life lessons and knowledge that goes with it that are the real parts—lessons about justice, navigation, how to live and every topic in between, he’ll tell them.

“For the younger students, it’s more about storytelling. They don’t realize they are learning more than storytelling.”

But he says the older students start to understand the meaning behind the stories, both for the day-to-day takeaways and the bigger picture influence. It made a difference for him, says McKay. 

“Learning more about my culture and the stories—it has changed a lot of my self-esteem and who I am.”