In spite of the extreme cold weather, I was glad to see many people out to hear Winona LaDuke at the Audrey Auditorium last Tuesday evening. It was good to see and hear her again. As a native woman, she holds a very sacred position as a messenger of humanity and Mother Earth. I believe it is always appropriate to begin in one’s own language. It is the recognition of the divine. To create a cleansing vibration of the larynx and to position the tongue to speak power gives one an identity.
As Winona spoke of issues concerning human interaction and our views on sacred areas, I couldn’t help but become more aware of my own position here in Flagstaff as a respected artist and community member. I have been fortunate to be in various communities that welcomed me, that made me feel needed, and where I give freely of my time. Flagstaff is just such a town. Do you feel my embrace?
You can never underestimate the value and respect we give these sacred spaces. Do’ Ko oos L’iid, sometimes known as San Francisco Peaks is one example. Place names define us, validate us. They should not remind us of the colonizers. We have names that value us. Yes, we have words.
Winona’s message also brought to mind some experiences that stand out because they felt so out of place. I do not feel discrimination here, so when it does happen, it is glaring. I do know that many native brothers and sisters experience discrimination on a regular basis. Once in a great while I share in their experiences. Racism is still a major issue, especially in this state. Bigotry and intolerance rears its ugly head even here.
Some years ago when I was all the rage, I was at an upscale event that allowed me to be an art star, a poster artist to be exact. I was sitting there in the lobby of the event with beautiful people milling all about as I signed posters and received compliments. Just as my pen was poised to sign another poster, a person approached and asked, if and when I get a chance, could I help move some chairs and a table. I looked around and realized that I was the only brown person in the lobby. “I can’t,” I said. “You could ask that white man over there,” pointing to a tall regal looking fellow. The encounter was a shock and a wake up call. But needless to say, I moved no furniture that evening.
I was recently refused a purchase of two bottles of beer at my friendly neighborhood grocery store, the same store where I’ve bought my food and my beer for years. I was indeed in my slippers, my hair untied and friendly, since I was running a quick errand for a friend. But when I asked why, the clerk replied with only, “for several reasons.” There was a long line of shoppers behind me, so I relented and left without the beer. I bought it down at the local mini-mart right afterwards. I really wanted to make a fuss about this so I went back and left a message for the manager. I brought it to her attention the next day and we talked. I left it at that. The poor clerk probably had bigger issues than me. I did not want to get her in trouble but I hope she now understands not to jump to conclusions by one’s apparel and/or the color of his skin. In Tucson, a few months ago, my girlfriend, blonde and freckled, and I stayed in a hotel that prides itself on diversity, which explains all the brown help. When I showed up poolside, a maintenance man asked her if I was “bothering” her. I was profiled to high heaven and I felt it.
Sheriff Clarence of Pima County was right when he spoke out right after the Tucson shooting recently. The ugly head of bigotry does exist. This is why Winona’s words were so timely and important for me. Thank you Martin Springer Institute for providing venues and voices for the marginalized.
