Issue link: http://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/899551
Heritage Matters 47 A couple of decades ago, I witnessed a friendly debate between a white historian and an Indigenous ethnologist. The well known historian, who just happened to look like United States General George Armstrong Custer, was going on about rigorous scholarship, professional ethics and how historians had to consider both the emic (from within) and etic (from without) points of view when writing on Indigenous history. Growing a bit impatient, the Indigenous scholar told the historian to get out of the library and into the community where the real culture existed. The Custer look-alike stiffened, tilted his head back and stated, "I will have you know, the library is my culture." The audience roared their approval and some laughed at this ironic polarity regarding knowledge that their debate highlighted. It seemed all too perfect. North Americans have their libraries, art galleries, museums and universities as the keepers of their collective knowledge. Indigenous peoples have their oral traditions, customary practices, belief systems and traditional arts, and make personal memory the keeper of the knowledge for their societies. Never the twain shall meet. Sometimes we think of art as a tangible manifestation of culture. Societies make things to give evidence of collective identity or individual reaction to collectivity. We tend to think of these creations as material culture, to distinguish them from the fine arts. We also tend to think of philosophy, rhetoric and knowledge as intangible aspects of a culture. This we refer to as intellectual or cultural property. Both forms of cultural expression are important in shaping our worldviews, identities and perhaps destinies. When the Mohawks first greet each other, what they say loosely translates to "What kind of clay are you made from?" It really means, "Where are you from?" However, since the Mohawk Creation Story tells of the first humans being made from the clay of the earth, this greeting has a deeper meaning. It acknowledges the Creation Story. In response, one might say, "I am of the Wolf-kind of clay of the Mohawk valley." This means they are of the wolf clan, as compared to the bear and turtle clans of the Mohawk Nation. It also means that Mohawks of today are genetically linked to the clay where their ancestors first roamed – the Mohawk Valley near Albany, New York. Further, it means that since Mohawk ancestors have been buried in the loving arms of the Mother Earth for centuries, clay is really the recycled remains of all that once lived here before. Human flesh decays and becomes soil and clay. All that lives becomes fuel for the spirit of the earth. So, when Mohawk artisans took a lump of clay from the ground and shaped it into a ceramic vessel to be used as a cooking pot, they held in their hands the 'living' earth. It is malleable. It transforms itself with the gentle hand of the maker. The ceramic pot is therefore like a distant relative, reborn into a utilitarian object. It is an entirely different notion about how ancestral knowledge fuels our vitality. Their flesh becomes the earth. The earth produces clay. Clay becomes a container. The container is used to prepare food. Humans are nourished by the food and the minerals in the clay in which food is cooked. In case you were going there, it is not a form of cannibalism! It is recycling the energy of our ancestors. What makes humans different from an earthen jar is that the Creator gave us a part of his living breath. That is what animated our bodies. It also allowed us to be able to think, to feel and to create, and to visualize the unseen aspects of the Creation. Clay Connection – Indigenous Living and Creativity By Rick Hill Oneida Clay Pot, with distinctive figures at each corner of the square top