On the road to D.C., Lummi Nation carvers bring fight to save indigenous lands to PLU
The small boy with hair in his eyes proudly looked up from below.
“I have a drum,” he said with the intact buoyancy and wonder of a 4-year-old, before bounding off.
And so he did.
We passed each other in the grass of what was once a golf course on the campus of Pacific Lutheran University. It’s now a disc golf course. Thousands of years before, it was covered in Camas lilies, providing a sacred home and sustenance for the Puyallup, Nisqually, Steilacoom and Squaxin tribes.
As the boy found his mother, I found a place to stand in the sun. Nearby, on a flatbed truck surrounded by a small handful of people, a newly carved and painted totem pole rested, made from a 400-year old red cedar. Soon, we’d all be invited to lay hands on the piece of brightly painted art while one of the men who created it beat a much bigger drum than the one the boy clung to.
On Thursday, the totem pole brought all of us to PLU, together. That was the point, or one of the points. Made by the Lummi Nation’s House of Tears Carvers, the pole represents an urgent call to protect sacred indigenous lands and waters, according to its creators. It’s also on a journey, with stops like the one made in Parkland on Thursday planned across the country in the coming months. Eventually, it will arrive in Washington D.C., where it will be presented as a gift to President Joe Biden and displayed at the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian this fall.
According to Freddie Lane, who has taken on the responsibility of managing what’s now known as the Red Road to D.C tour, the trip is being made in hopes of reminding people of the responsibility we have to honor this land and the indigenous tribes who have lived here since time immemorial. Specifically, the pole and the stops it will make are intended to spotlight 20 current Native-led struggles across the country — like the battle over Bears Ears National Monument and the Dakota Access Pipeline — each one focused on protecting sacred lands and waters.
The pole was carved at the Lummi Nation outside of Bellingham. Head carver and Lummi tribal member Jewell Praying Wolf James said that the figures that adorn it — which include an eagle diving to earth, a Chinook salmon and a child in jail that’s meant to represent children separated at the U.S.-Mexico border — were delivered by spirit and intended to represent the breadth of experience, culture and struggle throughout Indian Country and beyond. Although the Lummi Nation has its own history in this realm, having successfully blocked the proposed coal terminal at Cherry Point, James said that these conflicts are part of a much larger fight for indigenous communities. The pole is meant to connect them while honoring the individual tribes and traditions they threaten.
“When we’re carving a totem pole, I look for spiritual messages,” James, 68, said of his artistic approach, and how he and the House of Tears carvers chose the images for their most recent work. “I see things in dreams.”
For James, the totem pole that will soon make its way to the U.S. capital isn’t his first. He’s been involved with the House of Tears carvers for more than two decades, and has previously worked on a number of pieces, including one that honored those who died during the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.
Still, this pole — and this moment — feels different, he said. At a time when many are recognizing the impact of systemic racism, the window for overdue change seems wider than ever before. While the history of sacred land conflicts date back to the founding of the nation we know today — and one underscored by generations of trauma, hollow words and lingering broken promises for Native Americans — Thursday’s visit was one marked by hope, James said.
According to PLU’s Suzanne Crawford O’Brien, a professor of religion and culture who leads the university’s Native American and Indigenous Studies program, there’s legitimate reason for fresh optimism. When the totem pole does reach Washington D.C., it will be presented to a new president who has already made diversity a cornerstone of his administration, including the confirmation of Deb Haaland, the nation’s first Indigenous Secretary of the Interior, she said.
Although a single cabinet position won’t erase generations of mistreatment and attempted erasure, Haaland’s confirmation is evidence that things can change, Crawford O’Brien argued.
“Having (Haaland) there, and having her awareness as the head of a department that has had it as its intention the destruction of native culture and people, it’s momentous,” Crawford O’Brien said. “To have someone like her at the head just gives me enormous hope that things can move forward.”
As the mid-morning sun beat down Thursday and the sacred mountain of the Puyallup Tribe dominated the skyline above, a path forward felt within grasp. The crowd was reminded that the pole they came to see isn’t what’s sacred; what’s sacred is its ability to unite people, in place and shared cause.
As James told me later, ensuring that sacred indigenous lands and waters are honored and protected isn’t a matter of if, it’s a matter of when. From the elders who came before him to those who surrounded the totem pole he helped to carve, we all have a role to play, he said.
“We’re fighting these battles,” James said of the struggle that has consumed much of his life, “and it’s a little step at a time.”
Just then, the small boy with the hair in his eyes wandered over to listen, finding a seat nearby.
“If we don’t accomplish it, somebody else will,” James said.
This story was originally published May 2, 2021 at 5:00 AM.
