Thank you for honoring our grief by giving it a voice and a pLace in Mother Nature. If it weren’t for rocks that jut out into the ocean where i can feel the swell of the surf crashing into its granite OR the ancient mossy oaks i discovered up an old winding road that are like a cathedral of gentle giants, i would still be one of the walking half dead and secretly wounded showing no grace in my dead woman march on. But Now that i move through the long period of mourning i have been navigating, i can still remember we have always stood for the sacred lands even when exploited by land grabbers.
My great great grandfathers were settlers or refugees depending on who told the story but they were always land stewards land tenders and community builders. They didn’t shoot the first people who returned to their homeland our family bought from a land speculator even if they did not consider them equal. One of My great grandfather redeemed whatever his bias by saving an indigenous ceremonial mound on the property. It arose from a conversation between two men and a written letter between them. so now this fox shaped ceremonial mound is protected today and honored with my great grandfather in a tiny history in the archaeological museum. Presently the curator and i are working with the indigenous people to see if they can agree on an indigenous name change but whatever this outcome, it is how my heritage stands for peace and protection of the lost sacred and keeps me standing with my ancestors. The original first people were sometimes called the Woodland or the Hoocargara Hochangra depending on the history of numerous renamings by the white peoples. These names seem more poetic and i wonder if they are closer to their original ancestral roots before they were stripped of their identities and their lands.
In my deep grief over the present state of endangerment of a habitable planet and the desecrecation of all policies and protections painstakingly put into place by the now decimated environmental movement i recall the book, All We Can Save. This book of essays about losing a habitable planet, i remember it will not be us that saves Mother Nature but when we stand in alliance with her we will do what we can. we will be on fighting the right fight as best we choose with our communities who did not die with the collapse of America and our collective insanity.
Those of us who have lived in the false glory of our privileged whiteness may be we can see this is a time when we are awakening to the reckoning we need to repair through solidarity with our sisters of all colors….And yes for those of our brothers who can honor our fierceness with a heart soul fire for true peacebuilding and protection. Even if we get called “woke” like its a bad thing or worse….Our work sure is cut out for us to protect the land trees and water we can but when we will make art out of it and reshape collective consciousness movements, we will bring the change and inspire our others to stand with us. We could become too big to fail…couldnt we? (If this is magical thinking part please indulge briefly its been a rough few months 🫠)
Even though my parents thought it was laugh out loud funny when i said at four years old - i want to be a forest ranger when i grow up… i somehow knew what i was talking about.🙂just like you did shiloh when your heart was crying out on the mountain. Now Some of us still know that Trees know how to grow up right without a need to compete or dominate and their roots are deeply entangled, arent they? Just like the Fig. If we encircle those we can, all is not lost now or then…is it? So Thank you for sharing the richness of your family cultural background with stories that speak to the heart and creative spirit of all your family elders, shiloh. And mine too🙏❤️🙂
Thank you for honoring our grief by giving it a voice and a pLace in Mother Nature. If it weren’t for rocks that jut out into the ocean where i can feel the swell of the surf crashing into its granite OR the ancient mossy oaks i discovered up an old winding road that are like a cathedral of gentle giants, i would still be one of the walking half dead and secretly wounded showing no grace in my dead woman march on. But Now that i move through the long period of mourning i have been navigating, i can still remember we have always stood for the sacred lands even when exploited by land grabbers.
My great great grandfathers were settlers or refugees depending on who told the story but they were always land stewards land tenders and community builders. They didn’t shoot the first people who returned to their homeland our family bought from a land speculator even if they did not consider them equal. One of My great grandfather redeemed whatever his bias by saving an indigenous ceremonial mound on the property. It arose from a conversation between two men and a written letter between them. so now this fox shaped ceremonial mound is protected today and honored with my great grandfather in a tiny history in the archaeological museum. Presently the curator and i are working with the indigenous people to see if they can agree on an indigenous name change but whatever this outcome, it is how my heritage stands for peace and protection of the lost sacred and keeps me standing with my ancestors. The original first people were sometimes called the Woodland or the Hoocargara Hochangra depending on the history of numerous renamings by the white peoples. These names seem more poetic and i wonder if they are closer to their original ancestral roots before they were stripped of their identities and their lands.
In my deep grief over the present state of endangerment of a habitable planet and the desecrecation of all policies and protections painstakingly put into place by the now decimated environmental movement i recall the book, All We Can Save. This book of essays about losing a habitable planet, i remember it will not be us that saves Mother Nature but when we stand in alliance with her we will do what we can. we will be on fighting the right fight as best we choose with our communities who did not die with the collapse of America and our collective insanity.
Those of us who have lived in the false glory of our privileged whiteness may be we can see this is a time when we are awakening to the reckoning we need to repair through solidarity with our sisters of all colors….And yes for those of our brothers who can honor our fierceness with a heart soul fire for true peacebuilding and protection. Even if we get called “woke” like its a bad thing or worse….Our work sure is cut out for us to protect the land trees and water we can but when we will make art out of it and reshape collective consciousness movements, we will bring the change and inspire our others to stand with us. We could become too big to fail…couldnt we? (If this is magical thinking part please indulge briefly its been a rough few months 🫠)
Even though my parents thought it was laugh out loud funny when i said at four years old - i want to be a forest ranger when i grow up… i somehow knew what i was talking about.🙂just like you did shiloh when your heart was crying out on the mountain. Now Some of us still know that Trees know how to grow up right without a need to compete or dominate and their roots are deeply entangled, arent they? Just like the Fig. If we encircle those we can, all is not lost now or then…is it? So Thank you for sharing the richness of your family cultural background with stories that speak to the heart and creative spirit of all your family elders, shiloh. And mine too🙏❤️🙂