The 49th State

What is the American dream? And can one still attain this?  It seems that some people are still in search for this, and have ventured to the state of Alaska to attain it. 

Inflation in the country, has made it difficult for the average person to afford rentals, and further the purchase of homes.  But in Alaska a 3 bedroom home is still within reach.  Over the first twenty four hours of arriving, we’ve met several people who have moved from different parts of America due to the affordability, opportunity, and promise of something more.

But there is also something else here that exuded… The kindness that emerged from the locals and the transplants, in offering suggestions of delicious cuisine to eat, stunning natural landscapes to witness, and warnings of what one may encounter during one’s visit.

I visited Anchorage Alaska mid-October, during Indigenous people’s weekend.  To honor this, the Anchorage museum waived the $25 entrance fee for all visitors.  A volunteer greeted us at the door, a young Indigenous female with a painted red hand over her face.  I asked to take her photo, she said “I’d rather you not.”  I honored her request, remembering that some people believe that if you take their photos, you are taking their souls.   The red hand I observed was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.  My friend reminded me that this was a symbol to bring awareness of missing and murdered Indigenous women in North America.  They are 10 times more likely to be sexually assaulted or murdered than non-indigenous women. To read more https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_handprint#:~:text=A%20red%20handprint%2C%20usually%20painted,be%20murdered%20or%20sexually%20assaulted.

As I walked through the museum, I couldn’t help but be stunned by the controversial art pieces on display sharing the indigenous people’s stories throughout generations.  Through imagery and storytelling, there were reminders of how the indigenous people were robbed of their heritage, appropriation was used as a platform for consumerism and capitalism, and the necessity of the new generations to discover, embrace, and share their heritage in their own native languages to ensure traditions are carried on.  In addition, there was homage to other ethnic groups that make up pockets of Alaska, including Black Americans and Latin Americans. 

(Nicholas Galanin: The Imaginary Indian, 2009)

Alaska is a complex entity, becoming the 49th state in 1959, but originally was purchased from Russia in 1867.  Then came the Gold Rush, subsequently the search for oil. 

It became a powerful place for America to own, “In 1935 General Billy Mitchell said to Congress “I believe that in the future, whoever holds Alaska will hold the world. I think it is the most important strategic place in the world.”

But with this cane the wipe out, erase, capitalize, appropriate the indigenous people and their customs. There were so many mixed feelings being here, that I may need to continue to reflect and chew on.  The Anchorage museum held controversial conversational pieces, but what about the remnants diversity throughout the land?  From what I explored, in the surrounding areas of Anchorage this was minimal.  There are high rates of suicide, alcoholism, and ancestral trauma.  And how do we serve and honor all those impacted by generations of colonialism?

There is so much to say about this, and I am aware I am only scratching the surface.   But I am reminded, as we visit places even in our own country, it’s important to honor the land and the ancestors of the land, even if you are not a direct descendant.  How can you be a responsible tourist and leave more than you take? This can be kindness, conversation, exploration, and discussions when one returns to your own neighborhood of the vastness you experienced.  It’s an ever evolving reflection, and the more I travel to further vast corners of the world, the more questions arise. Thank you Alaska for what you shared, and I honor you and all that you contain.

My First Pow Wow

Upon moving back to America six months ago, I became interested in learning more about the Indigenous culture here.  I’ve been a sound healer for several years, and know that there are aspects that borrow from indigenous traditions and healings.  I want to know more, and have gone to an in person workshop and taken a virtual course by indigenous healer Asha Frost.  But this is not enough, I want to expose myself more to the knowledge and traditions out there.

And so this weekend I went to my first pow wow, it was a small one held in Oxnard College. But it was beautiful.  People from various tribes came from different parts of California and the surrounding states.   There was aspects of ceremony and ritual, with sage burning, as communal drums played.  Traditional colorful attire worn and gourd dances were performed.  There were dances that honor various individuals in attendance whose family members donate money to on the ground, as they stand and dance behind them.  The money is picked up by another individual, afterwards often times the individual honored, then offers the money to the drummers and singers who played the entire time.  It was fascinating to witness the energy of money being performed in front of our very eyes. 

The emcee for the day was a veteran, and I was surprised to find many present were veterans, including two Vietnam vets. At one moment he stated, “During funerals we go to, there are 6-8 pallbearers.  What about in life?”  He further shared that we should not wait until our deaths to have 6-8 people carry us, depend on others while you are alive.  He reminded the crowd that we are all human and have our vices, but collectively we can help each other out.  He found this to be true for gourd dances. People have been cured of various ailments, particularly returning back from war through this collective dance. 

It was beautiful to witness generations of families are present sharing the lineage of wisdom passed through song and movement. I began to tear up seeing this display of support and hearing the loud strong hearty drum beat, as the drummers beat on one large drum in unison.  Seeing this beauty of culture displayed reminded me of the African drum circle I attended in New Orleans next to an ancient tree, where African Americans have been meeting Sundays since the time of slavery.  It was the one time of week they were allowed to collectively worship while their masters went to church. In both of these instances, I felt I time travelled and saw the ancestors and their kin playing the drums and dancing to demonstrate solidarity, freedom, and connection.

The longer I am in America, I’m trying to truly understand what this country is about.  What do we represent? What is freedom? Where did we come from?  Who are the ancestors of the land and all that inhabit it now? What can we learn from them? What wisdom can be gained from all that was lost and somehow saved through traditions such as this?

“Or can you be like you, and reconnect to your own sacred Medicines? Your own beautiful ancestry? Your own power, presence, and brilliance? I see you wanting to. I see you aspiring to. I see you reconnecting. Can you be like you? As I reclaim and remember me. And then, we can finally walk in right relation to each other.” 
― Asha Frost, You Are the Medicine: 13 Moons of Indigenous Wisdom, Ancestral Connection, and Animal Spirit Guidance