Community Voices | Fall '23

Volume Two

Issue Two

Title:

Publication

Date:

COMMUNITY VOICES

Helping People Hear Each Other... One Story at a Time

Decolonize with Indigenous Voices Fall, 2023

LAND Acknowledgement:

ETSU is a community of educators and learners residing on the ancestral homeland of the Cherokee, also known as the Tsalagi people.

The Cherokee constituted one of the largest politically integrated tribes at the time of European colonization of the Americas.

At the time of their forced removal, the Cherokee numbered some 50,000 individuals who controlled 40,000 square miles of the Appalachian Mountains, in parts of present-day Georgia, east Tennessee, western North and South Carolina, and northeast Alabama.

Over the years, the tribe lost many of its people to wars and to diseases brought by the settlers. Many of the Cherokee people walked the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma. And those who stayed here, now reside in western North Carolina, and are known as the Eastern Band of Cherokee.

Our hope is that this acknowledgment serves as a reminder to all of us to recognize how we came to be here today, and to honor those who were here before us.

And it is a call to action for us to care for the land on which our campus resides.

Consistent with our commitment to Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, understanding the historical and current experiences of people who are Indigenous to this land, which many call Turtle Island, will help inform the work we do.

Written by,

Dr. Adrianna Guram & Dr. Debi Thibeault

This issue is especially dedicated to Indigenous people everywhere:

You and your ancestors are the original guardians of the land. May we always remember that you endured centuries of oppression not merely to survive but to THRIVE. We hope to be worthy of your friendship and trust, and we stand beside you in all you do. You will forever be our First Nation of people.

A NOTE FROM the Editor:

Dear Reader,

Welcome to our first annual Decolonizing with Indigenous Voices issue of the magazine!

Please join us as we lift up Indigenous Voices from the past and present because Indigenous people are very much still here with us today; celebrating their culture and creating a legacy for their future!

And they bring an astounding amount of wisdom, grace and kindness to a society that still either ignores them or tries to erase them with bureaucratic tyranny and neglect.

They offer invaluable lessons about life and land and love and community which can vastly improve quality of life for all of us.

Indigenous people also powerfully reflect the generational trauma and pain that comes from the oppression they suffered at the hands of the white, Christian, western colonizer.

And as a white ally there are many chapters in this lengthy story of imperialism to sit with and grieve profoundly.

But also understand that your Indigenous relatives will very likely respond to your sincere apology with kindness and ask you to forgive yourself and your ancestors for their bigotry, cruelty, greed and dishonesty.

The past cannot be mended. But understanding history and your part in it can equip you to make today a safer time to be alive for our Indigenous neighbors and for all of us. So let’s make every day Indigenous People’s day. Thank you for reading!

Warmest wishes from,

Elizabeth Strong Cloyd

Managing Editor; cloyde@etsu.edu

CONTRIBUTING Authors:

Dr. Debi Thibeault

Deborah (Debi) Thibeault, LCSW, DSW is an Associate Professor in the Department of Social Work at East Tennessee State University. Her research interests are history and policies that impact indigenous peoples such as Indian Child Welfare, historical trauma, and cultural appropriation. Environmental justice education is another area of scholarship. Debi is a member of Council on Social Work Education (CSWE) and serves as the Indigenous and Tribal Social Work co-track chair CSWE’s Annual Program Meeting. She is also a member of the Indigenous and Tribal Social Work Educator Association.

Prior to teaching full-time she worked in the field of social work for over twenty years, in case management, advocacy, program coordination, and directing non-profit organizations. The populations she worked with include gang-involved youth, youth involved with Juvenile Justice, and people with HIV/AIDS. In her clinical work she worked heavily with children overcoming trauma who were in child protective services.

Dr. Michael Cody

Michael Amos Cody spent his twenties writing songs in Nashville and his thirties in school. He is author of the novel Gabriel’s Songbook (2017), finalist for the Best of Backlist category of the Feathered Quill Book Awards 2022, and short fiction that has appeared in Yemassee, Tampa Review, Still: The Journal, and elsewhere. His short story collection, A Twilight Reel: Stories, was long listed for the 2020 W.S. Porter Prize and published in May 2021 by Pisgah Press, after which it won the Short Story / Anthology category of the Feathered Quill Book Awards 2022. His current work-in-progress—a novel titled Avalon Moon—was recently a finalist for the Claymore Award (Southern Gothic category) associated with the Killer Nashville International Writers’ Conference 2023. He lives in Jonesborough, Tennessee, and teaches English at East Tennessee State University.

CONTRIBUTING Authors:

Carolyn Gregg is a Native to Appalachia, growing up in the beautiful mountains of West Virginia. She is a Bachelor of Social Work and a Master of Divinity and is a candidate at ETSU for a Master of Social Work. She loves being outside in nature and serving the community, specifically people with Substance Use Disorders.

We offer very special thanks to Master of Ceremonies, Velina “Powwow” Dyson Hewitt and to the 4th Annual Trade Mill Native Heritage Days and Powwow for allowing us to take so many beautiful photos of vendors, attendees, storytellers, dancers and singers; You helped us bring these stories to life!

Thank you!

Carolyn Gregg

PRODUCTION &

Support Stuff:

VICE PRESIDENT, ETSU OFFICE OF EQUITY AND INCLUSION

Dr. Keith Johnson

CREATOR AND MANAGING EDITOR

Elizabeth Strong Cloyd

EDITORIAL CONSULTANTS

Dr. Deborah ‘Debi’ Thibeault and Chasity Lynn Drew

GRAPHIC DESIGNER

Maheen Pulak

WEB COORDINATOR

Sherry Martinez

PHOTOGRAPHER

Jessica Sanders

TABLE OF Contents:

THE UNIQUE AND COMPELLING HISTORY OF THE EASTERN BAND OF THE CHEROKEE INDIAN

Elizabeth Strong Cloyd

Elizabeth Strong Cloyd

Dr. Debi Thibeault

TABLE OF Contents:

Dr. Debi Thibeault

21

NATIVE AMERICAN

Dr. Michael Cody

24 Carolyn Gregg

AN INTRODUCTION TO POTLATCH, AN INDIGENOUS GIVING OF THANKS OR “GIVEAWAY”

THE UNIQUE AND COMPELLING HISTORY OF THE EASTERN BAND OF THE CHEROKEE INDIAN

Written by Elizabeth Strong Cloyd

This is a story of the strength, grace and patience of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indian (EBCI) specifically those who originally occupied Cherokee, North Carolina and the surrounding land within the Qualla boundary.

This is by no means an exhaustive history, but it offers highlights of the wisdom and the resilience of the EBCI over the years and provides a useful, helpful and more accurate way of thinking about our Indigenous relatives than the whitewashed version most of us received.

The EBCI were and still are deeply connected to the land there herself- spiritually, emotionally and physically.

And with the passing of the Indian Removal Act in 1830 the colonizing white man openly longed to possess the beautiful and bountiful home of the Cherokee for himself. So he imposed his tyrannical world view on a first nation of people to whom war and blood soaked imperialism were not common practices.

“Well if you take the very foundation of what this country is built upon, the founding fathers stipulated within the constitution that America would work as long as the white man was in charge,” explained Yona FrenchHawk, spiritual leader and elder in the EBCI.

All living beings compete over territory…especially humans. But the Cherokee see us positioned much lower than our crawling, swimming, flying relatives in nature’s pecking order:

“We as human beings are way, way down the food chain as far as intelligence upon this earth,” FrenchHawk explained.

“So, that ties into historic trauma of having a home that has no boundaries and living on a land that was so abundant no one needed to claim anything. And then suddenly we are “discovered” in world that is about ownership and boundaries…and this is MINE.”

Judeo Christian beliefs were also employed to persuade the sophisticated and high functioning Cherokee to surrender to the “care and protection” of the white man, “It’s created a trauma that exists to this day of victimization, and a distrust of Christianity, and shows just how lopsided the laws have been from the writing of our Constitution,” FrenchHawk explained.

Between 1835-1839 Indigenous people throughout the southeastern United States were forcibly removed from their homes to be “relocated” out west by walking, or riding wagons or riverboats on the Trail of Tears to “Indian Territory” or Oklahoma.

Thousands of indigenous people were killed outright for refusing to leave, or they died on the way to their unfamiliar and barren new home.

But the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indian is still here and going strong in large part because Chief Yonaguska decided to stay. “That’s why my great, great grandfather Yonaguska went to his people and said, ‘Whoever doesn’t want to leave, come with me. We are not going to war. We are going to go hide,’” FrenchHawk said.

So the remaining EBCI-many of whom were fierce and highly effective warriors- disappeared into the mountains of North Carolina, “And whenever the army came in they might catch 2 or 3 Cherokee in a week but they would lose 10 or 12

Yona FrenchHawk

soldiers,” FrenchHawk explained. “As as the numbers grew they knew they couldn’t afford to do that anymore, so they had to make a deal.”

Chief Yonaguska adopted a white son named William Thomas who was a great friend to the EBCI. He learned their language, and became their lawyer and advocate in 1831. Thomas negotiated with the United States government and gained permission for the remaining North Carolina Cherokee to reside on land that was not part of their removal “agreement.”

These people were also called Ocanaluftee, Qualla or Lufty Indians. And they became the heart of the Eastern Band of the Cherokee Indian.

Life was still perilous for the EBCI as the number of whites living around them grew. And natives weren’t allowed to buy or own land. So, well into the 1850s Thomas bought large tracts for the Cherokee to slowly and steadily reclaim their lands. His purchases compose most of the Qualla boundary. However, re-acquiring their land forced the Cherokee to navigate a complex and convoluted system that was heavily stacked against them, “Will Thomas was the one that was able purchase land and assign it back to the Cherokee. It took more than 40 years and we gave them (the government) money and then they took the land back because we did not have the foresight to have documentation or a receipt, so they made us buy it again,” FrenchHawk recalled.

And though the land was once again their home, the life of the Cherokee was marred and reduced by intense and continuous oppression, “To ‘civilize’ us they put Indian children in cattle cars that took them miles away from home and the majority of them never saw their home again,” FrenchHawk explained.

Most Cherokee were denied anything other than a life of servitude, “I think what got lost was a sense of evolution and our awareness of it. My mom and dad only got to go to the sixth grade with no promise of higher education; they were taught to iron sheets and dig ditches, and work in domestic service or menial labor,” FrenchHawk explained.

This erasure and oppression has been common practice for hundreds of years. And though modern advocacy and Social Justice efforts are making a positive difference for Indigenous people, powerful remnants of white oppression still exist today,

“When you meet Cherokee people who don’t speak our language and are embarrassed by it-It was whitewashed out of them and whether they realize it or not they are part of the trauma that is the opposite of the American Dream,” FrenchHawk explained.

But the Cherokee people never gave up, “Go to 1908 and my grandfather, William FrenchHawk had just spent the last 5 years walking back from Oklahoma. He had a land parcel number in North Carolina and he wrote this letter to the Department of the Interior-so some of the Cherokee, according to the roll they had could then come back and

claim a plot of land.”

Their strong connection to Mother Earth, pride in home and family and their solid core beliefs against warring to solve conflict are huge parts of how the Cherokee survived and endured,

“We always knew that war wasn’t going to work. That’s why we didn’t fight amongst ourselves. Carrier Park in Asheville is where we would come to settle disputes; if your fastest runner wins, then you get to hunt that land; or whoever wins the stickball game get’s to fish that river…we didn’t kill each other over it,” FrenchHawk explained.

Advice for allies

The EBCI are gaining political support and financial solvency today. If you are of white, or western European descent then there is a helpful way to think about and process what our colonizing ancestors did to the Cherokee people,

“Don’t start with just us, if you are truly and deeply humble then go back and say you are sorry to your family…to your people. Be sorry for what we have done to ourselves,” FrenchHawk explained. “This hurts everybody, and the sooner you can acknowledge your pain and trauma and where it comes from the better off we are all going to be and the sooner we can get down to healing.”

* The terms Indian, Cherokee Indian, Cherokee people, Cherokee and the acronym EBCI are all used interchangeably in this article. Please always directly and respectfully ask your Indigenous friends how they prefer to be addressed or described. *

Learn more at: http://www.yonafrenchhawk.com/

Yona FrenchHawk

SACRED STORY KEEPERS-

Storytelling With Our Indigenous Relatives

Written by Elizabeth Strong Cloyd

Stories hold power for everyone. But for our Indigenous relatives stories always teach us. And their lessons help our lives become more sacred and balanced.

Indigenous stories connect us to the earth, to every living thing on her, and to the universe around us. And Indigenous stories strongly reflect how profoundly we are tied to all living things and how much we all affect each other.

Terry Stoneman, an experienced Indigenous Story keeper from Marshall, North Carolina recalled how he first became a story teller and keeper, “Many years ago I was in a sweat lodge and our leader opened the flap to let some air in and asked if we would like to hear a story. We said ‘yes’ and he told the story of grandmother mole. It was quite a long story and I realized on my way home that the story had really touched me.”

Stoneman took his twin children to kindergarten later that week and told the story of grandmother mole to their class, “The teacher asked me ‘Do you have any more of those stories?’ And I said ‘No…but I will get some.’ And that was when I realized maybe I had a gift or an affinity for this, so that started me on the journey of collecting stories,” he explained.

What it means to be a story keeper

In Indigenous culture stories are an integral part of spiritual ceremony, and an integral part of life. The lineage of each

story must be honored and any requests or restrictions the storyteller makes must be respected, “Among Indigenous people if I hear a story that touches me I have to ask for permission to keep that story. That request is often accompanied by a small gift to ask if I can be keeper of that story,” Stoneman explained.

After being gifted a beautiful story by his friend, Hawk Walker, Stoneman was excited to share it right away. Instead, he experienced and gladly honored his first restrictions as a story keeper, “He said, ‘You can be keeper of that story but until I share that story with some of the elders on the reservations it would be inappropriate for you to share that with the common people. I will let you know when it’s okay to share that story.’”

Another important aspect of story keeping for Stoneman is allowing the narrative to live inside him and become part of his heart and soul; a lesson he learned on a fasting prayer vigil, “I’m on this mountain top all by myself and I’m telling Spirit, ‘People are giving me all these sweet stories and I can’t remember them.’ I got this loud voice from Spirit that said, ‘Dream the stories, become the stories and you will not have to remember them because they will become a part of you,’” he recalled.

This narrative osmosis bypasses the stress of rote memory, “And today most stories I have dreamed so I don’t have to use my brain to remember them. It could be a (waking) dream where you are sitting by the river and listening to the drone of the water, and then remembering a story and allowing it

Terry Stoneman

to become part of you,” Stoneman said.

Indigenous culture keeps and shares important tales in the oral formulaic tradition. And though the written word is respected, spoken word has more strength, “Stories that have come to me traditionally, orally- they carry more power for me than those that have come from a book or a video,” Stoneman explained.

Tales of true happenings

Story keepers do not commonly tell the moral or meaning of the story, “I try not to convey to people what I think the story is about because what I get out of it may not be what you need to get out of it. My grandpa always said ‘Just tell the story and get out of the way,’” said Stoneman.

And it is not unusual for a tale of actual historic events to enter the dreams of a true story keeper. Stoneman dreamed and told the story of a young boy sacrificing his special and sacred flute for kindling to keep his family warm:

“So I was talking about Flute Boy with a storytelling friend of mine in Maine and she said, ‘That was not a dream. That happened among my people over 200 years ago.’ That taught me that sometimes my dreams are the Creator allowing me to see things that took place a long time ago; allowing me to see that for a purpose for a reason…so the people wouldn’t forget it.”

Many stories based on true events hold the great weight of sadness and grief because they chronicle the pain of the Indian removal during the Trail of Tears. But the sharing and telling of these tales ensures they are remembered.

For example, a former Cherokee village near Marshall was forcibly evacuated which led to the involuntary abandonment of several new born children by their young mothers, “I have shared that story and I have seen people cry. It’s a true happening,” Stoneman recalled.

A different world view

Indigenous creation stories reflect a perspective far removed from the Judeo Christian mindset:

“I like creation stories because I think they are all true. We all need some place to start. In the Western mind: there’s a start and an in between place and an ending. It’s linear. And the Indigenous mind just does not comprehend that; there’s no beginning and end. All things are in a circle. A circle is a path that has no end. Like the seasons and the rivers and the oceans and like life itself. We have creation stories and that’s the starting point to begin your journey on the wheel because creation is still unfolding,” Stoneman said.

Indigenous creation stories also redefine humankind’s role in this world. Humans are made last after all other living things and their Creator had no more knowledge or wisdom to give them,

“But the Creator says ‘If you want to learn how to live on this land, pay attention to those that came before you; those are your teachers.’ And they watched the wolf and the beaver

to understand family. They watched the fox to learn how to hunt silently at night. They watched the trees and they watched the ants and how they built their homes. That is how they learned to live,” Stoneman clarified.

Humans are not placed above other living things in Indigenous thinking, “Most Indigenous people see themselves as part of nature, not superior to any element of it at all. And each part has a gift and something to do and something to offer. And humans are just one of these,” Stoneman explained.

Important distinctions

Indigenous storytelling is not the same as other kinds of storytelling. It’s important to understand that if you are going to a ceremony where stories are shared it is (almost always) not a performance. And in some traditions it is considered rude to clap at the end of a tale,

“The thing to keep in mind is that an Indigenous storyteller rarely charges to tell stories. Sometimes there is a gift offered and that is welcomed. But for me, it’s ceremony. I don’t charge for ceremony,” Stoneman explained.

The big Indigenous cultural piece here is around reciprocity. “So, although there is not a charge it is appropriate to share something. So if someone shares a story, particularly if it touches you it would be appropriate to maybe give them tobacco or a stone,” Stoneman said.

Stories shared around a ceremonial fire are always free and considered sacred. However, if an Indigenous story teller shares a tale in a public venue, it is still sacred but in this context it is acceptable and appropriate to reimburse them for their time.

Accept the power of stories

For Indigenous culture stories show us the great web that connects us to all. And stories give us valuable lessons about life and its constant energy exchanges,

“We never know the things that we do that might change the lives of other people. That would be a way that I would lead in to sharing stories. Just talking like we do at the table… talking about my grandpa or the sweat lodge or something like that,” Stoneman said.

And finally Stoneman explained how stories can always help us to grow, “My former teacher said, ‘When you learn the way of others it only adds power to that walk that you are on.’”

A MAJOR WIN FOR TRIBES!

The Indian Child Welfare Act Of 1978 Is Upheld As Constitutional.

Written by Dr. Debi Thibeault

Since its beginning, the United States government has worked tirelessly to extinguish or assimilate people Native or Indigenous to the land into their white system of tyranny. One of the main mechanisms of this erasure was through the removal of Indigenous or as the governments says “Indian” children from their homes and communities. These efforts were made first by placing them in residential boarding schools away from the reservation where they were stripped of their culture.

Upon arrival at the boarding school their hair was cut short, their traditional clothes burned, and they were punished if they spoke their native language. The next push was with the Indian Adoption Project which launched in 1958 and ran through the 1960’s. This effort took children away from their tribes and placed them with white, middle-class families. The goal of the project was to save the government money (boarding schools became too costly), assimilate children into white culture from the earliest age possible, and dismantle the tribal communities (Thibeault & Spencer, 2019)

In the late 1960’s Indigenous activists, many who had attended boarding schools or were part of the Indian Adoption Project, along with allies, formed the Association on American Indian Affairs and completed an investigation of the treatment of Native children (Simmons, 2014). Their findings were submitted to the House of Representatives in 1978: 25-35% of children classified as American Indian or Alaskan Native were placed out of their homes, with 85% of them placed far away from their tribe either at a boarding school or adopted out. This led to the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) which began in November of 1978 (Simmons, 2014; NICWA, 2018).

What is ICWA?

The Indian Child Welfare Acts provides protection for children who are members of a federally recognized tribe. It states that children who are a member of a tribe are not to be placed off tribal lands or in a non-tribal home to ensure that children remain in their home community (Cross, 2014; Jacobs, 2013; Morrison, Fox, Cross & Paul, 2010).

ICWA protects children based on their political status of being a citizen of a sovereign tribe. Indigenous children who are not members of a federally recognized tribe are not eligible for ICWA protection.

ICWA under fire

The complexities of ICWA and its court battles through the years are too long and too many for me to share in this short article. So, I share a snippet. Most recently, in 2018 the states of Texas, Louisiana, and Indiana, along with seven individuals petitioned the court to reverse ICWA based on it being “unconstitutional.” Claims were made that ICWA was a policy based on race. However, tribes and activists supporting Native nations explained that ICWA is a policy based on politics, not race because tribes are sovereign nations. (https://sct.narf.org/documents/brackeen_v_

bernhardt/lower_courts/usdc-order.pdf ) The case began in 2018 in the federal district court and landed in the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court began its hearings in November 2022 and deemed ICWA as constitutional on June 15, 2023 (NARF, 2023).

What next?

The cases that led to the long battle through the courts were families with good intentions. They were foster parents, who then wished to adopt the children they were fostering. However, ICWA came into play during the process. Child welfare agencies have an obligation to follow ICWA and in doing that child welfare workers cannot assume a child has no ties to a tribe based on skin color.

Skin color does not make a child “Native American” or a tribal member. Tribal enrollment and/or eligibility for enrollment must be investigated before placing children into the foster system or for adoption.

My hope in sharing this article is to create awareness about ICWA, especially among folks involved in child welfare and child health services. To learn more about ICWA visit the National Indian Child Welfare Association and the Native American Rights Fund

References

Cross, T. L. (2014). The Indian Child Welfare Act: We must still fight for our children. Reclaiming Children & Youth, 23(2), 23-24.

Jacobs, M. D. (2013). Remembering the “forgotten child”: The American Indian child welfare crisis of the 1960s and 1970s. American Indian Quarterly, 37(1), 136-159.

Morrison, C., Fox, K., Cross, T., & Paul, R. (2010). Permanency through Wabanaki eyes: A narrative perspective from “the people who live where the sun rises.”. Child Welfare, 89(1), 103-123.

NICWA (2018). Retrieved from https://www.nicwa.org/ wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Texas-federal-district-courtdecision-summary-10.15.2018-final-1.pdf

Simmons, D. E. (2014). Improving the well-being of American Indian and Alaskan Native children and families through state-level efforts to improve Indian Child Welfare Act compliance. https://www.nicwa.org/icwa/

Thibeault, D., & Spencer, M. G. (2019). The Indian Adoption Project and the Profession of Social Work. Social Service Review, 93(4), 804–832. https://doi.org/10.1086/706771

**Cover Photo: Levi Rainwater is with his daughter, Oaklyn Sage at the Trade Powwow.

THE LAND

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT CONTROVERSARY:

Are They Meaningful Or Another Statement Of Settler Privilege?

Written by Dr. Debi Thibeault

Land acknowledgements have become commonplace at events, particularly in places of higher education. This act of acknowledging the original inhabitants of the land where an event is taking place or where an institution resides has become so trendy that it created a controversial question of whether land acknowledgements are helpful or hurtful. Many scholars and Indigenous wisdom keepers claim that land acknowledgements have become a “performative” piece for white individuals to ease guilt they may be feeling about acts that their ancestors did toward Indigenous people (McGregor & Nelson, 2022; Wark, 2021; Whitmore & Carlson, 2022.)

Where did they begin and why?

In Indigenous culture, it has always been customary for a person to introduce themselves by including information about their ancestors and the land of which they are connected to. I once heard an Elder describe, “we are not ‘from’ a particular area, we are ‘of’ the land, we are one with land, there is no separation, this is why we talk about the land when we introduce ourselves.” Wark (2021)

Anishinaabe Indigenous scholar, reports that land acknowledgements first began in Australia and slowly became commonplace, not just in Australia but throughout Canada. The first land acknowledgement conducted at a government event took place in February 2008, during a “Welcome to Country” ceremony, by Matilda HouseWilliams, an aboriginal Elder who was invited by Labor Prime Minister, Kevin Rudd to kick off Australia’s 42 federal parliament. House-Williams used this opportunity to address steps toward reconciliation of “the oldest living culture in the world – with others who have come from all over the globe.”

(McKenna, 2014, p. 476)

Land acknowledgements are now popular in the United States as well. When land acknowledgements began, they were presented by Indigenous scholars or students as a mechanism to show colonizers that despite a history of genocidal efforts, their people still exist. Land acknowledgements were also created to build more positive relationships between Indigenous peoples and settlers (McGregor & Nelson, 2022; Wark, 2021.)

As land acknowledgements became routine, Indigenous scholars and students recognized that this effort was moving away from being impactful to being a “performance” and they were being used as the “token” person to perform. This led to allies stepping forward to provide land acknowledgements and eventually anyone within the institution (McGregor & Nelson, 2022; Whitmore & Carlson, 2022.)

The routine land acknowledgement

Wark (2021) explains two points: acquiring land is what settlers did and do, and “the presence of Indigenous people is disturbing and disrupting” (p. 199) for settlers. It is difficult to hear about what settlers did, and continue to do, to Indigenous peoples to attempt to erase them and their culture.

Land acknowledgements tend to be an apology, not an amends. I recall a simple teaching to my children when they were growing up, “an apology doesn’t mean anything if you are not going to change your behavior.”

The routine land acknowledgement tends to be heavily scripted and targeted toward non-Indigenous people. They often refer to Indigenous peoples as though they existed in the past and not the present. They are used frequently to ease settler guilt, so there is no responsibility taken and no call for change.

The routine land acknowledgement merely checks a box off of an event’s agenda. And while there may be some feelings of discomfort, people quickly move on to the next agenda item. Clifford Cardinal describes this best in his one-man theater show The Land Acknowledgement, “I’m afraid that people with money and privilege hear a land acknowledgment, nod solemnly in approval, and then wait patiently for their show to begin…” (The Land Acknowledgement | Interview with Cliff Cardinal - YouTube).

Qualities of a meaningful land acknowledgement

For a land acknowledgement to be meaningful it needs to honor the past but focus on the present. It needs to increase awareness of Indigenous communities. It should confront settler colonialism by reflecting on privilege and oppression, and emphasize and illustrate a call to action. Additionally, a land acknowledgement is not just about acknowledging the original people of the land, it is about honoring the land and should inspire connection to the land in the here and now.

Whitmore and Carlson (2022) explain, “Land acknowledgements matter because they anchor us to the place we are, consistent with place-based pedagogy” (p. 1) and McGregor

and Nelson (2022) share a teaching from a Mi’kmaq Elder who explains that reconciliation is not just people to people, it is

The Medicine Wheel at the 4th annual Trade Powwow reflects the vastness of the intertribal communities that join together for ceremony.

also two-legged beings reconciling with the earth.

If you are not an ally, then please do not do a land acknowledgement. Also, when planning an event or class, avoid doing a land acknowledgement if it is merely a formality or a boiler plate statement where event coordinators or instructors check off a box. Doing this positions the land acknowledgement in “performance” category and is an attempt to ease settler guilt (Whitmore & Carlson, 2022.)

If you are an ally, then craft your land acknowledgement from that space. Be more interested in the heart of the land acknowledgement rather than how well you write or recite the script. Remember, the goal of a land acknowledgement is not meant to make the audience “feel good” and doing so diminishes its intention (McGregor &Nelson, 2022.)

I recently heard a land acknowledgement where the speaker had the courage to share how they benefitted from the use of the land. The acknowledgement, although somewhat scripted, came from a place of saying “thank you”, which is great place to start.

When creating a land acknowledgement take the time to learn about the history of the original people of the land, do some self-reflection on your own privilege of being on the land, and think of a way you can make a difference and take that action (Whitmore & Carlson, 2022.) Whitmore and Carlson (2022) present six key principles for making a land acknowledgement which they developed with Indigenous scholars Fullmer and Milligan-McClellan: “do no harm, recognize the strengths of Indigenous people, acknowledge history and talk about the present, focus on allyship - not ownership, acknowledge Indigenous people’s stewardship of the land, and do your own homework” (p 3.)

I think it is essential to, “do your own homework.” Read. Learn from credible sources. Do not call a person who happens to be Indigenous to give you the quick answers. That places a burden on the Indigenous person to teach you. And they may not be Indigenous to the area you are crafting the land acknowledgement about. Finally, they may not know the history, nor should they be expected to look it up for you.

For educators: Acknowledgements in the classroom

Last year I began adding a land acknowledgement to my courses. The same guidelines as above always apply. And, if you are using a land acknowledgement in a class then adding content about Indigenous peoples or adding content from Indigenous scholars will make it more meaningful for students.

Cooks and Zenovich (2021) describe teaching assignments they incorporated into their communications courses where students explored “indigenous thought, imperialism, and capitalism in a case study of university land and ownership” (p. 223.) And they “bring historical ownership practices into the present by asking students to examine how the university communicates ideas of property, and how land acknowledgment statements might serve as one platform to decolonize the institution” (p. 224.)

A couple of other simple ways to add Indigenous content is by using case studies or highlighting Indigenous scholars and research related to the course (Whitmore & Carlson, 2022.) There are plenty of ways to get creative and add content that tells students Indigenous people are very much present and not just a part of history. Consider adding articles, videos, and even inviting guest speakers to your class.

A call to action

Making a land acknowledgement meaningful includes a call to action. You can share about something you are doing to support the original people of the land on which you are situated. You can also share how you connect with the land and have become a steward of the land on which you now reside. What actions do I take – Through my teaching, presentations, and writing, I educate others about the atrocities that happened to the Indigenous peoples across Turtle Island (this western hemisphere), about social justice issues of today that impact Indigenous peoples, and about the strength of Indigenous nations today.

I connect with the land that I am privileged to live on by walking barefoot on her, singing to her and the other lives that share the land with us -the deer, bear, turkey, woodpeckers, spiders – all beings. I connect further with the land by being in sacred spiritual ceremony with her, with the people in my community, and with the beings on the land that we care for on a regular basis.

*The term Settlers in the context of this article encompasses the actual settlers who colonized a land, and their descendants.

References

Cooks, & Zenovich, J. A. (2021). On whose land do I/we learn? Rethinking ownership and land acknowledgment. Communication Teacher, 35(3), 222–228. https://doi.org/10. 1080/17404622.2021.1922729

McGregor, & Nelson, E. (2022). Reconciling Relationships with the Land through Land Acknowledgements. In Sacred Civics (1st ed., Vol. 1, pp. 122–132). Routledge. https://doi. org/10.4324/9781003199816-12

McKenna, M. (2014). “Tokenism or Belated Recognition? Welcome to Country and the Emergence of Indigenous Protocol in Australia, 1991-2014.” Journal of Australian studies 38(4), 476–489. https://doi.org/10.1080/14443058.2 014.952765

Wark. (2021). Land acknowledgements in the academy: Refusing the settler myth. Curriculum Inquiry, 51(2), 191–209. https://doi.org/10.1080/03626784.2021.1889924

Whitmore, & Carlson, E. (2022). Making Land Acknowledgements in the University Setting Meaningful and Appropriate. College Teaching, ahead-of-print(ahead-of-print), 1–6. https://doi.org/10.1080/87567555.2022.2070720

NATIVE AMERICAN LITERATURE AT ETSU

Written by Dr. Michael Cody

How long has Native American literature been offered at ETSU?

Native American literature has been offered at ETSU for close to twenty years. Initially, I took a variety of approaches to the topic: an honors composition class focused on Native American materials, a summer special topic on the same, and a class on “Images of Indians” in film. I think it was sixteen years ago, in fall 2007, when ENGL 3070: Native American Literature was offered for the first time. The course has been in a rotation of being offered every two years since then.

Why is it only offered every two years?

The Department of Literature & Language uses a course rotation plan that indicates most specialty topics should be offered on a regular two-year cycle. The most recent copy of the plan—the most recent that I have seen—lists Native American Literature as being offered in alternating years. Some examples of other courses offered on this alternating-years rotation include Southern Appalachian Literature, Bible as Literature, African American Literature, and Modernism and Postmodernism. In this fall semester of 2023, I am creating an online version of the course. Once that is designed and approved, I hope to offer the course every year, alternating the live and virtual versions.

Why isn’t it taught by an Indigenous instructor?

To my knowledge, we do not have an Indigenous instructor available in the Department of Literature & Language. My hope is that at some point we will be able to add a faculty member who is a specialist in multi-ethnic U.S. literatures, including such Indigenous materials as Native American Literature covers, and I would love to see that hire be an Indigenous American person. Until then, I think it more worthwhile to offer the course myself than have it not be offered at all.

How does it differ from a traditional American lit class?

In some ways, the story told in Native America Literature is the untold other side of the story told in classes focused on the American literature of the United States. U.S. literature was, at its beginning and for a long time after, an extension of British literature, which should not be surprising given the language and colonial history the U.S. initially shared with Great Britain. At the same time, both veins of literature— from the U.S. and the U.K.—bear marks of the centuries-long influence of the Greek, Roman, and Christian empires, what we commonly think of as the Western world and Western thought.

Native American literature, on the other hand, developed quite independent of the Western traditions. Indigenous peoples within the borders of the U.S. generally preserved and transmitted their widely varied histories, philosophies, and cultures from generation to generation through oral storytelling. As a result, Indigenous American cultures tend to have ways of thinking about and living in the world that differ significantly from those of traditional Western societies. The literatures of Native Americans—from oral creation stories to the latest Indigenous fiction, poetry, and drama— reflect these differences in worldview and in cultural and literary practices.

Why is it important?

For most students who enroll in Native American Literature (as well as for much of the broader ETSU community), the story of Indigenous America—the people who were here first—is largely unknown. Or what many of us think we know is actually wrong or deeply misunderstood—or both (see Hollywood’s western films from the 1930s through the 1950s).

To read about and recognize the common humanity of Indigenous Americans is, I believe, vital to a more richly nuanced understanding of the world we live in and the experiences and actions that brought us to this point. Canadian singer/songwriter Bruce Cockburn has a powerful song titled “Stolen Land,” which concludes with this question related to the repeated historical wrongs done to the American Indians (and Canadian First Nations): “What step are you gonna take to try and set things right in this stolen land?” I believe that the offering of this course by ETSU’s Department of Literature & Language and the taking of this course by ETSU students represent one such “step.”

What does it offer students?

The readings that appear on the syllabus of any given offering of the course are wonderful works of imaginative literature that reveal a world within our world that, again, most of us—for no good reason—do not recognize as existing. This revealed world is creative and traumatized, at once familiar and unfamiliar. Without an awareness of Native American literature—and, through it, Native American life—we can neither completely know U.S. history nor clearly see ourselves.

Dr. Michael Cody

And finally, do you have a favorite aspect of teaching this?

One of my favorite aspects of teaching this course is experiencing the tremendous variety of Indigenous writing in the U.S., particularly as represented in the literature of the past sixty years or so—a period sometimes called the “Native American Renaissance,” which marks 1969 as its beginning when House Made of Dawn, a novel by Kiowa author N. Scott Momaday, won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction. I have a couple of novels that I always include in ENGL 3070: Native American Literature, those being Leslie Marmon Silko’s Ceremony (1977) and Susan Power›s The Grass Dancer (1994), but the remainder of the syllabus changes dramatically each time I offer the course. That›s because so much good stuff is out there, and I want to experience as much of it as I can, and I want the same for my students.

AN INTRODUCTION TO POTLATCH, An Indigenous Giving Of Thanks Or “Giveaway”

Written by Carolyn Gregg

Iwas asked to learn about The Giveaway, a tradition celebrated by many Indigenous people. I was at once intimidated and excited for the opportunity to learn about this important aspect of native culture.

I was intimidated because I wanted to be able to communicate and define this practice in a way that does justice to the community; which is hard when it is a new concept. This is an attempt by me to honor Native people and fall a little more in love with the culture that is inherent in the land I’ve been able to live on for 29 years.

In my exploration, I interviewed Nan Nelson, a non-tribally enrolled Cree woman who currently lives in western North Carolina. When I asked her about the giveaway she explained, “Our Elder was giving of himself, (always) available to the community. He could not work because of his service to the community, so the community gave back to him.”

As Nelson talked about the giveaway she described an event of great significance to her, “At the Sun Dance people would gift him money, blankets, clothes, because he was giving of himself,” as he led the Sun Dance and as he led the community, “the only clothes our elder owned were the ones gifted to him,” she explained.

50 years, lands were redistributed to families who lost their land and in turn, their financial stability. Giveaways also historically functioned to redistribute wealth and resources throughout the community.

But Giveaways currently function as a public proclamation of belonging to Native culture in the midst of Euro-American cultures. They are also a public way of identifying an individual’s social network and ranking an individual’s status in Native culture.

The Giveaway is celebrated in several different ways: honoring the memory of a loved one who has passed away, honoring in life transitions or declaring an individual’s social network. It is often celebrated in conjunction with a Powwow or other ceremony where time is made for this moment of special recognition.

The giveaway looks different depending on the tribe, the event where it is held, and what it is for. Sometimes an elder distributes items that were given by the family to predetermined individuals. Or the family or person having the giveaway gives items to selected individuals.

Most commonly a blanket is placed on the ground with giveaway items, and then people are informed when they are free to take something off the blanket. Typically elders select what they want off the blanket first.

And even the blanket that the items are placed on is given away. “It’s fun when someone is standing on the blanket waiting for all the items to be taken off it so they can take the blanket home,” explained Dr. Debi Thibeault.

As a person who knew nothing of this fascinating tradition previously. I am struck by the beauty of Indigenous culture’s generosity, where often among certain communities it is tradition to give everything to your community.

I keep coming back to the Elder whose only clothes were the ones that were given to him by his community. This speaks volumes about how much the community relied on this elder and how the elder relied on the community.

The trust illustrated inside these communities is unparalleled in the Euro-American society that my life has been dominated by. I feel inspired by the Indigenous self-identification, generosity, and honor that are practiced with each item given.

Nan is referring to an event that has developed out of Native customs from the Northern Plains in the past 200 years or so. The tradition is known as the Giveaway. It functioned originally as an economic redistribution of wealth and religious expression.

Similar to the biblical notion of Jubilee in the Judeo-Christian traditions, it is understood that the year of Jubilee or every

Giveaway Blanket

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