I grew up in a rural village in western Nepal from the late 1980s to the mid-2010s, where I was surrounded by a vibrant blend of cultures. Although my ancestors were not considered indigenous, I was surrounded by many of the 59 distinct indigenous groups that comprised 36% of Nepal’s population. The vibrant blend of cultures was reflected in pottery, costumes, and sustainable agricultural practices. I remember the colorful clothing and handmade jewelry, as well as the gatherings where millet liquor was served, highlighting their strong family values and appreciation for homemade products. I moved to Washington State for my PhD in 2015, which disconnected me from my multicultural community and gave me a shock of Western culture. While I was immersed in a fast-paced academic life, my interactions with indigenous communities were nonexistent. After completing my PhD, I moved to Connecticut in 2018 to work as an extension educator at the University of Connecticut. Through a USDA National Institute of Food and Agriculture (NIFA)-funded Federally Recognized Tribes Extension Program (FRTEP), I found myself on an unexpected journey, discovering deep connections between the culture and customs of the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation and my own experiences growing up in Nepal. What I thought would be a routine professional engagement turned into a fascinating exploration of shared values, traditions, and a surprising sense of familiarity that bridged two distinct worlds. As I participated in community events and national tribal meetings, I was struck by the parallels between indigenous peoples in Nepal and the United States. The craftsmanship in pottery, the use of natural resources in fishing equipment, and agricultural practices like the Three Sisters – growing squash, beans, and corn together – were common in our stories. The customs surrounding hair, such as not cutting at least a portion of hair as a mark of identity and spirituality, resonated deeply within me. Each interaction with the Native American community reminded me of my home and the rich heritage I was part of. To explore more deeply into indigenous communities, I visited two groups in the eastern hill of Nepal in the spring of 2024: the Jirel and the Surel. Despite their common origins, their socio-economic ranks were very different. The Jirel community, benefitting from the Swiss government’s development initiatives since the 1960s, displayed signs of prosperity. In contrast, the Surel community, which had once shared similar circumstances, remained in relative poverty. As I drove through the beautiful green roads from Charikot to Jiri, the newly built tea gardens, the community parks, and the vibrancy of life in Jiri showed the signs of a prosperous community. Local leaders expressed their gratitude for the Swiss intervention that had brought them education, healthcare, and sustainable farming techniques while recognizing and respecting indigenous values. “If the Swiss government hadn’t built the road, we would still be buffalo herders in torn sandals,” remarked Keshar Bahadur Jirel, highlighting the transformative impact of infrastructure. However, the Surel community on the other side of the hill shared a different story. Despite their shared heritage, they lacked similar opportunities for growth and development. Such contrast between the two communities with the same roots made me reflect on the systemic failures in recognizing and valuing indigenous knowledge. Indigenous communities worldwide are often perceived as marginalized, and their rich heritage is overshadowed by mainstream narratives. Federal governments have initiated programs to integrate these populations into broader society, yet the outcomes are often inadequate, characterized by low participation in education, economics, and healthcare. The marginalization of indigenous knowledge systems and practices has created barriers to their progress. The key to reshaping the dynamics between administrations and indigenous communities lies in mutual respect and collaboration. A transformative approach is essential, one that recognizes the wisdom embedded in indigenous cultures. For example, the urgent need to address climate change could benefit significantly from indigenous perspectives that prioritize interconnectedness with nature, challenging the notion of viewing it merely as a resource to exploit. We need to intentionally integrate indigenous knowledge into mainstream educational curricula. This will promote understanding and cultivate a generation that values diversity. Additionally, workplace inclusivity programs can ensure equitable representation of indigenous peoples in various sectors, creating environments that respect diverse perspectives and provide opportunities for growth. Indigenous representation in policymaking helps ensure that policies are culturally sensitive and truly meet community needs. This approach can lead to better governance and foster trust and collaboration. Reshaping the relationship between administrations and indigenous communities is not just an ethical necessity; it is essential for sustainability. By recognizing the value of indigenous knowledge, we can develop innovative solutions to pressing challenges, from environmental conservation to social equity. In conclusion, my journey from a rural village in Nepal to working with indigenous communities in the United States has underscored the urgent need for a change in how administrations engage with these invaluable populations. We must go beyond merely acknowledging indigenous peoples and focus on building partnerships based on respect, understanding, and collaboration. Shuresh Ghimire, Ph.D. is an Associate Extension Educator at the University of Connecticut. He works with indigenous communities in the U.S. on a Federally Recognized Tribes Extension Program supported by the USDA National Institute of Food and Agriculture.