Kyle Mays is an associate professor at UCLA and author of the forthcoming “An Afro-Indigenous History of the United States”; Carly Tex is executive director of Advocates for Indigenous California Language Survival, a Native-led nonprofit supporting the revitalization of languages and cultures indigenous to California. They shared their perspectives on the importance of elders and the knowledge they possess in Indigenous communities
By LISA DEADERICK
As the number of new COVID-19 infections and related deaths continues to surge, along with the arrival of a more contagious variant of the virus, the most vulnerable and marginalized among us will continue to suffer the most. Eight out of 10 COVID-19 deaths reported in the U.S. occur among adults 65 and older, , and Indigenous communities are one of the groups at highest risk from the disease. That specific intersection of Indigenous elders is of particular concern, as they tend to serve as the knowledge and language keepers of their communities.
“Every time one of those elders leaves this world, it’s like a whole library, a whole beautiful chapter of our history, of our ceremonies — all that knowledge, gone,” Clayson Benally, a member of Navajo Nation, . “It’s not written, it’s not dictated, you’re not going to find it on the internet.”
Kyle Mays is Black and Saginaw Chippewa and an associate professor in the African American studies, American Indian studies, and history departments at the University of California, Los Angeles. He writes about Indigenous popular culture, Afro-Indigenous history and urban history; he is also the author of the forthcoming book, “An Afro-Indigenous History of the United States.” Carly Tex is a Western Mono woman affiliated with the North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians and a descendant of the Dunlap Band of Mono Indians. She’s also executive director of the Advocates for Indigenous California Language Survival, a Native-run nonprofit supporting the revitalization of languages and cultures indigenous to California. Mays and Tex shared their perspectives on the general significance and importance of these elders in many indigenous communities, and how the information they possess continues to survive. (This interview has been edited for length and clarity. )
Q: To start this conversation, can you help us understand a little bit about the roles that knowledge and language keepers generally play in their communities?
Mays: Knowledge and language keepers — elders — are the foundation of Indigenous communities. But first, let me define language. Language is not just speaking. Language consists of signs and symbols that people use to communicate with other. Through language, we communicate pain and loss, happiness and joy, and our innermost desires and feelings. Language is how we pass knowledge and culture to others. Language is love.
Elders in Indigenous communities pass on to young people tribal histories, Indigenous languages, and their general life experiences of living in a world that continues to assume that Indigenous people have long vanished from the United States. Without elders, where do young people go to get advice? I dread thinking about this question. Elders hold with them memories of community, of struggle, and that love that only an elder can give.
Tex: Knowledge and language keepers are often regarded in high esteem. They are the bearers of the culture, and it is a great responsibility. The elder generation are often the knowledge and language keepers in the communities with whom we work. … The elder generation is also dwindling, and with that goes the knowledge they hold. In most communities in California, they are the last holders of that knowledge.
Q: Can you also talk about some of the significance of the information these elders possess?
Mays: Elders hold sacred information, but depending on the geographic context, it might be different. For those who live on reservations or in rural areas, some elders might possess important knowledge about plants for medicinal purposes or that which is used for ceremonies. This information can only be passed down that way. But not all Indigenous people live on reservations. For example, more than 70 percent of Native Americans live in urban spaces. When this is the case, elders can share oral histories about urban communities, participation in civil and tribal rights movements in the 1960s and 1970s. When I’ve done oral histories with elders, it is vital information that hardly anyone knows about. So, they don’t just have information relevant to Indigenous communities, but also significant history for the public. Others might have prayers and songs for a variety of ceremonies that they learned from elders.
Tex: It is difficult to generalize the significance. Sometimes it is regarded as something to be preserved, and communities are documenting the elders’ information to make sure their knowledge survives after they pass, and can be learned by their descendants. Often, the information is shared through teaching, apprenticeships, and at cultural gatherings. In other communities, cultural sustainability work is something just a few in the community might do that slowly grows over time with more interest. We describe it as lighting a fire with a wet log, and it needs tending and fuel in the form of people willing to take on the responsibility. It means making spaces for it to grow, including it in schools and offices, building its prestige and normalizing it as a part of daily life and raising families immersed in it.
Q: Are you able to share any examples of how this information might have been passed down before the pandemic? And what kinds of adjustments to passing that information along, have been necessary as a result of the pandemic?
Mays: In cities, many Indigenous centers would host elders and they could meet with young people one-on-one for consultations, advice, or whatever. On reservations, elders could meet with people at a tribal center of some sort. In cities and on reservations, people aren’t visiting with elders as much as they should because they don’t want to get them ill, or worse, die. Depending on where the center is and what COVID-19 protocols are in place, that is not happening. It is difficult to say the exact impact that this might have on young people, but if we consider that general mental health issues are increasing for all groups, then this could be a problem. While many have adapted to a Zoom world, it is not the same as sitting with an elder.
Tex: Tribal gatherings are a space for sharing intergenerational information and those opportunities did not occur due to the pandemic. This is often where people come to see new and extended family, learn language and culture, celebrate milestones, and pray in ceremony. Without those opportunities, that knowledge could not be shared on a wide scale, but some adapted by having small, private gatherings or by holding gatherings online through live streaming or pre-recorded cultural sharing.
Language classes were easier to run online, but not without their challenges. I saw language instructors reading children’s books live-streamed on Facebook, online challenges to count to 20 in your language while washing hands, and TikTok videos on language by Indigenous content creators.
Q: For those of us outside of Indigenous communities, and who are ignorant about why this information isn’t generally found in books or online (as quoted in the story from CNN), what are some reasons for maintaining the oral transfer of knowledge and language?
Mays: I want to push back on this question a bit. There seems to be a misnomer about Indigenous communities as being people who only use orality to share information. Some tribal communities have used forms of writing, they just aren’t recognized as legitimate by a settler colonial nation state. Depending on the tribal nation, some tribes, such as the Cherokee Nation, have done a really good job of maintaining a written language. So, some tribes have histories, knowledge and languages written down. As far as the oral transmission of knowledge, historically, within the context of genocide, forced assimilation, and confinement to reservations, Indigenous peoples often held knowledge, histories and ceremonies close to the heart. They did not always practice religion or share information publicly; it was underground. They had to operate in secret. Moreover, some ceremonies are sacred and can only be done through physical practice within the context of a ceremony. Not everything that is sacred should be written down, and not everyone should have access to certain forms of knowledge.
Q: How did this information survive colonization and previous pandemics? And are there ways that people outside of indigenous communities can support the preservation of this knowledge and language? If that would be welcome, what could that support look like, ideally?
Mays: Some of this information survived colonization and previous pandemics because Indigenous people are resilient. You can’t keep any information if you’re not alive. They often created new knowledge. One of the key things to remember about Indigenous nations is that they are not simply people of the past. We can’t always think of things as a loss, or view what happened and continues to happen to Indigenous peoples as a deficit. Native people’s survival reveals a lot about how they can adapt to anything. If something is lost, we also should consider what is gained. Without the ability to adapt, to survive, what Ojibwe writer Gerald Vizenor has called “survivance,” Indigenous peoples would not only be able to pass on knowledge and language, but nothing at all.
Non-Indigenous people can be good allies and support the preservation of Indigenous knowledge in a few ways. First, they should ask what different Indigenous communities need, and how those specific Indigenous communities want them to help. Maybe they don’t want outside help. If they do seek assistance, some could teach at tribal colleges and in tribal schools. Others could donate money and other forms of resources to assist tribal nations and urban communities to continue to learn from elders. Ideally, I think people have to return land. In cities, if there is an abandoned area, or if there is land that is underutilized, the city or people who own it should work with the Indigenous community and let them use it. In cities in particular, I believe that someone could help Indigenous urban centers create youth-centered complex that teaches knowledge, allows for recreation and ceremony, an after-school place for young people to learn about media and technology, and where they can grow into their full, Indigenous selves.
Tex: For this question, I think it is worthwhile to go back to the historical trauma that our communities experienced and was then passed down intergenerationally. We have generations of our ancestors that were subject to abuse and removal from their families and homelands, in the name of assimilation through government-enacted policies. With the California Mission system, there were generations lost as well through slavery and disease. Tribes in California have histories of massacres that wiped out elders, women and children. Those were people who could have carried on that knowledge for future generations. Now, thanks to decades of social justice work to re-right those wrongs, we can again practice our cultural ways, reclaim what was taken from us by force, and are putting those pieces back together, tending that fire to warm our people again.
If people outside of Indigenous communities are interested in helping, they can listen to us and find out what we need, be it as volunteers, or making a donation. Our communities have been hit by the pandemic with unemployment and are struggling. They can help by contributing to organizations like the Advocates, and other organizations working with the communities directly to bring food, PPE (personal protective equipment), technology, education, youth programs, elder services and health services.
Source: The San Diego Union Tribune
Related to SDG 3: Good health and well-being and SDG 10: Reduced inequalities
