As a musician, he is a member of the Quabbin Lake Singers, along with his three sons Anoki, Nantai, and Manixit. The group has a focus on upholding and honoring culture with their music: during performances, the four wear traditional clothing to honor their ancestors. Mann holds the role of Drum Keeper in the group, a role that requires him to “ensure the Drum is being honored and played in a manner for the particular ceremony taking place.” The Drum is a sacred object in Native American culture that must be respected, as it is “the heartbeat of Mother Earth” and “allows us to pray and communicate with the natural elements of the world and beyond” (Volain).
Nowadays, the Quabbin Lake Singers do not perform as often as they used to, but Mann devotes the majority of his creative energies to writing. His writing career began in his youth when he wrote letters to the government in order to draw attention to issues that the Nipmuc people face. Additionally, he has been writing prose and poetry since his teens. He wrote his first book, a collection of short stories and poetry titled Tales from the Whispering Basket, because he wanted not only to acknowledge Nipmuc history, culture, and contributions to the foundations of America, but also to explore his ability to write in different genre styles (Volain). He has also contributed to Indian Country Today Magazine.
While the majority of his work details Nipmuc culture and history, he also branches out to write about themes that aren’t directly related to his tribe. One of the short stories from Tales from the Whispering Basket entitled “Deadly Deeds” describes a man from the fictional town “Namtac” leasing a small cottage in the town of “Dinac.” While the townsfolk are initially puzzled by his presence, they come to harass and assault him four weeks after he rents the cottage. After uncomfortably living there for a year, he takes a look at the lease again only to be shocked:
As I read the fine print, I freaked out so bad I coughed up hair! It states: ’We the citizens and the town of Dinac shall only lease and rent to our kind. All others may stay for a respite but must depart after four weeks. Those who choose to stay past that time period risk life and limb. All those who stay one year shall be eaten!’ So, do you see my dilemma? I’m not a ‘Dinac,’ I’m a ‘Namtac!’ Those Dinac’s have been barking and chasing my kind for centuries! We scratch and fight but I’m stranded and outnumbered! I hear them coming! So, please, read your lease well lest you end up renting from a bunch of dogs! (Mann, 75)
The story displays his imaginative prose and, based on the last sentence, a hint of humor, but the idea of a group of people united under a common distinction (e.g., what race they belong to, where they come from, where they live now, etc.) oppressing another is certainly a familiar topic for Native Americans. This piece of fiction is more playful — and more extreme at the same time — with the topic than the other stories and poems in his book.
With his wife, daughter, and three sons, Mann currently lives in Webster, Massachusetts, in Worchester County, a place where his ancestors have lived “since time immemorial.” However, Mann was born and raised in Springfield, Massachusetts (Urban). Despite his people’s rich history in the area, he still felt different and out-of-place among the other kids: “Our people have always been here, but when you’re a kid and there are very few people who can identify with who you are, you actually begin to feel like an outsider on the very Earth your people have been on for thousands of years.”
Mann has also participated in environmental activism, such as working with the United States Fish and Wildlife Service in order to protect an indigenous fish local to the Worcester area ("It's Not Just..."). He has stated that "[the] Earth is not something for you to rip apart. It's there for everyone to share and understand." In line with this, he believes that if Indian culture had progressed on its own without European influence, it would have created technology that is more environmentally-friendly than what is commonly used today in Western culture (Steeves).
The Nipmuc tribe is based in central New England, mainly within Worchester County, Massachusetts, but used to inhabit territory reaching from southern New Hampshire to northern Connecticut and Rhode Island. They lived in villages such as Wabaquasset, Agawam, and Quaboag, utilizing a lifestyle including hunting, gathering, and planting. Since European arrival, they participated in King Philip’s War and all the wars on American soil such as the Revolutionary and Civil Wars (Toney).
Today, the Nipmucs are not federally recognized due to failing to meet all the necessary criteria for federal recognition as set by the Office of Federal Acknowledgement (OFA) of the BIA (“Martin issues…”). The OFA’s denial of recognition is based on the findings of John Milton Earle in an 1861 report regarding the Native population of Massachusetts. Earle noted that some tribes within the Nipmuc Nation had little property and was unsure of the tribal status of members who married white or African American individuals, unwittingly skewing the lineage of many of today’s Nipmuc Indians as recorded by the federal government (Thee). As of 2009, the Nipmuc tribe consists of roughly 3,000 members. Today, they seek to restore their culture and obtain federal recognition. Mann states that “when you look at of what our people went through, it’s almost impossible to get [federal] recognition” (Filipov). Mann is one of many Nipmucs trying to bring back both cultural practices and tribal pride, hoping the public will recognize them even if the government won’t.
Filipov, David. “Through Songs and Artifacts, Tribe Revives a Long-Lost Culture.” Boston Globe: A.1. June 06 2009. ProQuest. Web. 11 April 2013.
Holley, Cheryll Toney. “A Brief Look at Nipmuc History.” WordPress.com, 2001. Web. 17 April 2013
""It's Not Just Native History, it's American History"". Mass Media, 29 November 2011. Web. 8 April 2013.
Mann, Larry Spotted Crow. Tales from the Whispering Basket. CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, 2011. Print.
“Martin Issues Final Determination to Decline Federal Acknowledgment of The Nipmuc Nation.” U.S. Department of the Interior.
Sacks, Pamela H. “Webster man keeps Nipmuc tradition alive.” Telegram & Gazette.
Steeves, Gus. "Earth is not something for you to rip apart". Southbridge Evening News, 16 November 2011. Web. 10 April 2013.
Thee, Christopher J. “Massachusetts Nipmucs and the Long Shadow of John Milton Earle.” The New England Quarterly.
Urban, Cori. “Springfield native Larry Spotted Crow Mann authors new book titled ‘Tales from the Whispering Basket.’” masslive.com
Volain, Mark. Two Minutes With…Larry Spotted Crow. Worchester Mag.
Interview with Larry Spotted Crow Mann and performance with the Quabbin Lake Singers.
Official Website of the Nipmuc Nation. Nipmuc Nation.
Mann, Larry Spotted Crow. “BIO.” Tales from the Whispering Basket.
Mann, Larry Spotted Crow. “David Barton’s Lies about King Philip’s War”. Indian Country Today, 12 April 2013. Web. 14 April 2013.
Mann, Larry Spotted Crow. “Native People Are Still Being Misinterpreted and Misunderstood”. Indian Country Today Media Network. 16 October 2012. Web. 1 April 2013.
Mann, Larry Spotted Crow. “Last Thoughts on Columbus Day—For This Year, at Least”. Indian Country Today Media Network, 10 October 2012. Web. 1 April 2013.
Mann, Larry Spotted Crow. “Mitt Romney Proves Yet Again Just How Out of Touch He Is”. Indian Country Today Media Network, 23 September 2012. Web. 1 April 2013.
]]>Born and raised in Martha's Vineyard, Coombs lives with her family in the Wampanoag Community in Mashpee on Cape Cod.
After she graduated from University of Massachusetts at Lowell in 1971 with a degree in music education, Coombs began a museum career in 1974, interning at the Boston Children's Museum as part of its Native American Program. She and her peers, including Narragansett elder Paulla Dove Jennings, wrote children's books for the museum, illustrating Native American culture from a Native American perspective. Coombs later worked for nearly three decades with the Wampanoag Indigenous Program at Plimoth Plantation, including 15 years as the program's associate director.
Her children's book, Powwow, was published in 1992 by Modern Curriculum Press under their Multicultural Celebrations series; it chronicles the experiences of a Native American girl at her first powwow. The book is 23 pages long and is illustrated by Carson Waterman.
Additionally, through her work at Plimoth Plantation, Coombs wrote a number of essays documenting colonial history from a Native American perspective. For example, at a conference on Thanksgiving, she stated,
The actual and factual history of Thanksgiving in this country will be discussed: the European origins, views and practices, and how it evolved into the holiday it has become today. Many people don’t realize that thanksgiving was not a new concept to Native people. … Native people have held thanksgiving ceremonies since the time of Creation. The energy of lifeways of acknowledgement and thankfulness is what sustained Native culture for millennia.
Coombs strives to promote truth, authenticity and cultural sensitivity. In 2008, she received some media attention when she asked a nine-year-old girl to remove her indian costume before entering the Wampanoag site at Plimoth. When the child cried, Coombs gave her a necklace from the gift shop as a token of reconciliation. “Costumes are offensive because of what has happened in history,” Coombs explained; “we’re trying to educate people about our culture and to correct stereotypes and wrong information, we’re here to make a bridge between people, not to just send them packing."
Coombs is passionate about educating the public about myths concerning not only Wampanoag culture and traditions, but those of all Native People. Her goal is set on continuing to educate the public about Wampanoag history, culture, and other contributions and to present their nearly-forgotten traditional skills and technologies of her 17th century ancestors as authentically as possible. The material history of her research includes traditional wetu (house) construction, mat weaving, pottery, deerskin clothing, twined woven baskets, gardening, and foodways.
Community is the Wampanoag way. According to archeological records, the Wampanoag have been around for at least 12,000 years. They did not maintain their culture that long without work. But the Wampanoag have undergone a difficult history through colonization, and are now divided into separate tribal communities. Re-linking those communities together is a way of preserving the ancestral homelands and Wampanoag culture. As Coombs puts it in "A Wampanoag Perspective,"
For many people in this country, the word “colonization” often seems to slide glibly off the tongue; and when it is used, the full aspects of its meaning are not recognized. … The deeper, dark meanings of the word have been “bred” out of American history. However, people still carry associated attitudes and behaviors that go unrecognized for what they actually are.
Coombs understands the importance of preserving her culture and making certain that the lives of her ancestors are not forgotten; she has dedicated her career to this cause and wants to share it with the world.
"The people today are the windows to the past if one knows how to navigate." -Linda Coombs
*This article began as a biographical profile for Wikipedia. Thanks to Linda Coombs for her input and feedback on that article as well as this one.
“A Wampanoag Perspective on Colonial House.”Plimoth Life, v.3 no. 1, 2004: 24-28.
“Hobbamock’s Homesite.” Thanks, But No Thanks: Mirroring the Myth: Native Perspectives on Thanksgiving. Plymouth, MA: Wampanoag Indian Program. September 9, 2000: 2-3.
"Holistic History." Plimoth Life 1(2) 2002:12-15.
“New Woodland Path Makes Inroads at Wampanoag Homesite.” Plimoth Life, v. 5 no. 1, 2006: 20.
"Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War." Cultural Survival Quarterly, Spring 2007.
Powwow. Modern Curriculum Press, 1992.
“Wampanoag Foodways in the 17th Century." Plimoth Life 2005: 13-19
“Artists and Craftspeople Sought for Directory of Native American Artists Living in New England.” Akwesasne Notes. January 31, 1992.
Dresser, Tom. The Wampanoag Tribe of Martha’s Vineyard: Colonization to Recognition. The History Press, 2011.Fifis, Fran. “Native Americans Still Fighting Ignorance at Plimoth.” CNN Travel. November 28, 2008. Accessed May 5, 2013.
First Thanksgiving - Boston City Hall Linda Coombs 4/4, 2010.
“Kids Told Not to Dress as ‘Indians’ at Plimoth Plantation | CNS News.” November 26, 2008. Accessed April 23, 2013.
]]>The museum has helped her with many of her personal endeavors, including the publishing of her essay in the book The Pursuit of Happiness: An Indigenous View, the Narragansett People Speak in 2005 as well as serving as the site for her school. Spears is a strong advocate for integrating more Native history and experiential learning into school curricula, as well as standing up for Native American children in the public school systems. As a child, Spears struggled to reach the caliber of her first grade classmates in her public school class in rural Rhode Island. She reflects on the experience, stating that “it was the perfect story of the low expectations white teachers have for Native American children” (Coeyman).
In an unfortunate sense of déjà vu, Spears watched her eldest son struggle through first and second grade. This is when she decided to take some action; the discrimination of, and lack of respect for, Native children had gone on too long. Because of this, in 2003, Lorèn founded the Nuweetooun-meaning "our home"- School. This was a K-8th grade day school for Native American children (but also open to the public), located on the museum site, that used a curriculum based in Native American tradition and culture as well as standard academic subjects like math, literature and science. Her mission for the school was laid out in her essay featured in The Pursuit of Happiness:
We are committed to an experiential, integrated and collaborative learning environment in which we strive to develop well-rounded, enthusiastic and self-motivated learners. They experience education that embraces their Learning styles, honors their multiple intelligences, and enriches their educational, social spiritual and cultural development.
Lorèn has achieved this idea of experiential learning in various ways including having her students learn to work with and appreciate nature by trekking through a nearby forest to identify various trees, animal tracks and vegetation, making a gallon of maple syrup from 40 gallons of maple sap and travelling to Bluff Point State Park in Groton, CT to receive a hands-on lesson on “how archaeologists use fine-mesh screens and water to recover small-scale remains” (Silliman). She has also taught her students about the importance of the Three Sisters, which consist of corn, beans and squash, to the Narragansett people and many other Native American tribes. Each student at the Nuweetooun School, therefore, created either a picture or a poem about the Three Sisters, which were inspired by the Three Sisters Garden located on the grounds of the Tomaquag Indian Memorial Museum. These depictions were collected and composed into a book, The Three Sisters: Pictures and Poems. The proceeds from selling this book were incorporated back into funding the school.
In another endeavor sponsored and published by the museum, Lorèn, her mother Dawn Dove, her daughter Laurel and her grandmother Eleanor Spears Dove collaborated with other family members, tribe members and artist Holly Ewald to create “an environmentally-themed collage art book that presents Indigenous perspectives on the history of the Mashapaug Pond, the last remaining natural freshwater body in Providence, Rhode Island” (Farris). At one time in the history of the Narragansett People, the pond served as a venue for the young people to learn how to fish, swim and navigate canoes; it was also a very important factor in the physical and psycho-spiritual well being of the Narragansett community (Farris). Lorèn further explores the importance of nature in her poem “Roaring Brook,” which has yet to be published:
Every spring the brook’s water was glistening and full
Roaring from Arcadia, over falls and rocks;
We swam all summer in the pool
We thought it was deep
Our memories fun-filled and cool
Like the Mashapaug Pond, this brook served as a place for young Narragansett people to explore. Unfortunately, due to more than a century of industrial pollution and surface water runoff, the Mashapaug Pond can no longer contribute to the lives of the Narragansett community. However, Lorèn further describes in “Roaring Brook” how her community worked hard to preserve these important natural landmarks and the significance of continuing the preservation:
Grandfather, Chief Roaring Bull,
Always kept the brook clean…
…So long as we heed nature’s call:
Care for Mother Earth and her creatures
So that Roaring Brook can be enjoyed by all
In addition to heeding nature’s call, Lorèn strived to enrich her students with the culture in which they live, and grew up. As a result, every day at the Nuweetooun School begins with a Friendship Circle, a tradition of Narragansett people. Other cultural classroom activities include beadwork, finger weaving, basketry and the use of some Narragansett words (Hopkins).
Unfortunately, the Nuweetooun School was faced with a series of crises from 2009-2010. In 2009, the water pipes in the school building were discovered to have traces of metal in them, thus making the water unsafe to drink. Since the school is a non-profit organization, they relied on grants and fundraising to fund their school. With the help of this fundraising, the school was able to fix the plumbing issues in July 2009 (Thanks). The following year, the school was faced with more problems. In March 2010, the Supreme Court made a ruling that removed 31 acres of land out of trust from the Narragansett reservation in Charlestown. Because the tribe had much less land for money-making ventures, they had less money to provide to the school. In addition, Rhode Island was hit with devastating floods, which forced the school to go on hiatus, where it remains today (Davis). In light of these events, in 2010 Spears was also chosen as one of eleven Extraordinary Women honorees for Rhode Island. This award exemplifies the very nature of Lorèn Spears—extraordinary. In the words of Narragansett Chief Sachem Matthew Thomas, the Narragansett People “…support her in all she is doing and seeking to accomplish. She is an exceptional woman…” (Rovetti).
Coeyman, Marjorie (29 July 2003). "The school that Loren built; Native American children lag behind other minorities in academic achievement. One Rhode Island woman wants to change that." The Christian Science Monitor.
Davis, Paul (Mar. 2009). "U.S. Supreme Court ruling latest setback for Indians". The Providence Journal.
Farris, Phoebe (September 2012). "Through Our Eyes: An Indigenous View of Mashapaug Pond". Cultural Survival Quarterly. Retrieved 7 April 2013.
Hopkins, John Christian. "Nuweetooun - Our Home - School". News from Indian Country.
Rovetti, Leslie (29 March 2010). "It's official: Narragansett educator, curator Loren Spears is extraordinary". Westerly Sun. Retrieved 6 April 2013.
Spears, Cassius, Jr., comp. The Three Sisters: Pictures and Poems. Exeter: Tomaquag Indian Memorial Museum/ Nuweetooun School, 2009. Print.
Spears, Loren (2005). The Pursuit of Happiness: An Indigenous View of Education. Exeter, RI: Tomaquag Indian Memorial Museum. pp. xx.
"Thanks to You, WE REACHED OUR GOAL!" Tomaquag Indian Memorial Museum and Nuweetooun School. Nuweetooun School, 2 June 2009. Web. 4 Apr. 2013.
Through Our Eyes: An Indigenous View of Mashapaug Pond. Exeter, RI: Tomaquag Indian Memorial Museum. 2012. pp. xx.
]]>
Mihku Paul is a Native American Maliseet poet, writer, visual artist, and activist. She is a member of Kingsclear First Nation, N.B., Canada and holds a BA in Human Development and Communication from the University of Southern Maine. Paul then received an MFA in Creative Writing from Stonecoast at the University of Southern Maine. Born on December 4th, 1958 Paul grew up in Old Town, Maine, along the Penobscot River. Her mother was born an hour and 45 minutes north in Houlton, Maine where the Houlton Band of Maliseets is located. The Maliseet Tribe is also known as the Wolastoqiyik Tribe. Paul, the youngest of four children was the only one in her family to complete high school. Starting a year late in her schooling, Paul didn’t struggle to catch up and ended up completed school a year early.
Her grandfather, a Maliseet elder, was instrumental in passing on tradition and cultural knowledge to Paul. Being the youngest of all her siblings, Paul’s mother stressed the need for Paul to know this history so it wouldn’t get lost in through generations. Paul’s grandfather lived on Penosbscot Indian Island Reservation near Old Town. Here Paul spent much of her childhood where she watched her grandfather watercraft, hunt, and trap. She would miss many days of school at a time while she was out on the river with her grandfather on expeditions. Though Paul lived near a reservation, hey family didn’t grow up on one due to the lack of programs dealing with infrastructure and housing. It wasn’t until after the civil rights movement during the 1960’s that those programs were beginning to be put into place. Though she lived off the reservation, conditions weren’t much better for her family as Paul grew up in a very poor neighborhood. When Paul was on the reservation she felt safe and accepted, but when she had to leave and interact, like in the public schools, that became problematic. Though she wasn’t the only Native American to attend public schools, the group of kids that did attend got bullied. Along with being harassed by the non-native students, the native students also picked on Paul due to her lighter skin completion.
Motivated by her own unsatisfactory experiences of primary and secondary education in Maine, and by her experiences of racism and discrimination as a mixed-blood Maliseet woman, Paul has worked for more than two decades to better endow teachers in the state system. This work includes curriculum enrichment that focuses on Waponahki cultural views of unity and support, as well as language arts and the connection of native language to the study and charting of North America. Paul also works with children in the Portland school district, which she has been persistently doing for over twenty years on the complicated cultural, political, and social accounts of the lives of native peoples in the 21st century. Paul also has interactive storytelling sessions surrounding Waponahki legends, and assists students with art projects by intertwining conceptual principles along with practical design. Along with Paul’s storytelling and curriculum enhancements, she also involves her art and poetry to help educate non-native people about the condition of Waponahki people in the Northeast. Outside the classroom Paul’s poetry and art support diversity projects, events, and have been instillations in various museums.
Paul is a contemporary artist and writer with traditional roots, seamlessly combining the modern world with her legacy. Paul appreciates traditional Native American arts but doesn’t have a niche for it; rather she is trying to bring her Native identity forward into the contemporary moment, and is trying to use her art as a way to bridge that into the twenty-first century. Paul has had no formal education in visual arts, just her creativity, heritage, and passion for education. Paul is particularly interested in pattern and color relationships and works with pen and ink, watercolor, gouache and mixed media collage. Paul’s first multi-media installation “Look Twice: The Waponahki in Image & Verse,” went on exhibit in October 2009 at the Abbe Museum in Bar Harbor, Maine. The exhibit is a compilation of twelve panels that combine archival images of Waponahki history and culture with original poems that are designed to facilitate the governing look at Native people in this region. Colorful medicine wheels are intermingled throughout the exhibit, merged with conceptual water shapes to evoke the flow of time, memory and the St. John river.
Paul got to share her storytelling, talent for poetry, feelings on her education, and the plight of being Native American in her first chapbook, 20th Century PowWow Playland, published in 2012. This chapbook is a compilation of poems in which the Maliseet lands are at points inventively populated with not just, “the ghosts of half a millennium” but also with “those who remain”. As Mihku Paul remains in these lands, her opposing thoughts on settler colonization are not quieted, as she believes in the rights and continuation of indigenous people in the northeast. Paul’s poems clearly give a voice to those whose words have been silenced in the holocaust of colonization and displacement.
Paul talks widely on her dissatisfaction of the education she received in the Maine public school system. In the poem “Jefferson Street School” (9) in 20th Century PowWow Playland, Paul speaks as a “kindergarten captive” who is forced to memorize and recite the “invader’s language” and partisan cultural perspective, which evidently captures and details this disillusionment. Paul tends to lead toward lyricism when it comes to her poems and Paul credits her love for the way language sounds and her talent at storytelling to her grandfather. He would spend hours with Paul telling her stories and teach her certain things in dialect.
Paul’s 34 poems delve into this thought of multiple identities; how Paul is a “child of all worlds, child of no world”. (Totem, pg. 40) Paul’s `Amerindia’ reads, “Those hybrids” meaning Native and American are “encased in this new-made flesh”, meaning stuck and split. She ends on the question of what to do with these shattered pieces of glass, (from their original lifestyle) and what to do with what is now being presented to them, “this new fruit”. (53) In history we see this wonder of identity and the role security and money play a role in this. The reservation’s conditions prior to 1980 were disconcerting and in a way forced natives to live elsewhere and find jobs outside the community. On October 10th, 1980 the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act was passed which granted the Passamaquoddy, Penobscot, and Maliseet tribe $81,500,000. This act proved that there were treaty issues and that the federal government owed the tribe’s money and land, which assisted the tribes to improve conditions on the reservations. Due to this assistance many people who had left the reservation to find jobs moved back. This wave of native people included many youth who had spent much of their life disconnected from the reservation. Paul currently resided in Portland, Maine and teaches creative writing at the Maine Women Writers Collection at the University of New England.
Paul, Mihku. "The Work of Mihku Paul." The Work of Mihku Paul. Mihku Paul. 25 Apr. 2013
"Abbe Museum: Look Twice Evokes New Thoughts About History." Web log post. ABBE MUSEUM: Look Twice Evokes New Thoughts About History. Ed. Abbe Museum. 2 Oct. 2009. 25 Apr. 2013
Bryant, Rachel. "Mihku Paul." New Brunswick Literary Encyclopedia. 2011. New Brunswick Literary Encyclopedia. 25 Apr. 2013
"Indigenous New England Literature." Rev. of Mihku Paul’s first chapbook. Web log post. Indigenous New England Literature. 2 Nov. 2012. 25 Apr. 2013
Panepinto, Lisa. "Renewing Images: Mihku Paul Interview." River pine anthology of civic discourse. 14 Sept. 2012. River Pine Anthology of Civic Discourse. 25 Apr. 2013
Paul, Mihku. 20th Century PowWow Playland. 978-1-105-78610-5. Greenfield Center, NY: Bowman Books, 2012.
Teeter, Karl. Tales From Maliseet Country. Nebraska: University of Nebraska, 2007.
]]>
This is a small, purely decorative, fancy basket. The main structure of the basket is tightly woven with light colored ash splints. The even sized and very smooth splints indicate the later date of the basket. Small decorative curls, known as cowiss, fashioned out of a darker splint cover most of the outside of the basket. These curls, called cowiss, are a common decoration on fancy baskets. The handles of the basket, two on the sides and one on top, are highly decorative. Due to its style, the basket would have been an item popular among tourists in New England.
By continuing to make baskets, basketmakers today preserve a traditional way while also being involved members of their communities. Basketmaking creates a connection between ancestors, the older generation, and the younger generation that is important to the continuation of the art of basketry: "the work we create as artists connects us with our ancestors and leaves behind a connection for those yet to be born to remember who we are and were. The baskets, carvings, beadwork, tools, and items that made their way into museums still speak to us and teach us" (Mundell 26).
Basket styles continue to change, which is a testament to the adaptability of the Abenaki people: "Each new ash splint basket crafted by Abenaki basket-makers… is a modern creation, designed to meet current 21st-century needs. Yet behind each basket lies a fascinating, time-honored history of native woodworking and basket-crafting here in the northeast” (Goff). Despite changing styles, the legacy is never lost and the tradition and process of making a basket remains much the same as it used to.
Today various basketmakers such as Jesse Laroque, Jeanne Brink, Judy Dow, and Bill and Sherry Gould, keep the tradition alive by teaching apprentices and the younger generation, selling their wares, providing information, forming organizations and attending events that keep basketmaking a big part of New England culture. By keeping the tradition alive, Abenaki basketmakers are able to keep their tribe in the news and in the minds of the people of New England. And because for many years Indigenous peoples were erroneously labeled as disappeared from the area, being in the public eye helps to break down those stereotypes.
"Ash and Birchbark: The As and Bs of Traditional Baskets." U.S. National Park Service. N.p., 27 July 2012. Web. 27 July 2012.
Goff, John. "Abenaki Basketmaking." Salem Gazette [Salem] 24 June 2011: n. pag. Web. 27 July 2012.
Mundell, Kathleen. North by Northeast: Wabanaki, Akwesasne Mohawk, and Tuscarora Traditional Arts. Tilbury House Publishers, 2008.
Pelletier, Gaby. Abenaki Basketry. Ottawa: National Museums of Canada, 1982. Print.
]]>Vera J. Francis is a Passamaquoddy educator, environmental activist and performance artist rooted in Wabanaki traditional storytelling. She resides in Perry, Maine, on the Pleasant Point (Sipayik) Reservation. Francis writes and speaks frequently about environmental issues and tribal politics in newspapers, at conferences, and on websites. On April 19, 2013, she was interviewed by Parker Cavallaro (UNH '13) for this article.
As part of the nonprofit Ntulankeyutmonen Nkitahkomikon—NN “We Take Care of Our Land”, Francis has advocated for the environmental preservation of Pleasant Point-Passamaquoddy ancestral territory. Because Passamaquoddy ancestral homeland is now divided by the U.S.-Canadian border along the St. Croix river, Francis has been involved with legal proceedings concerning both federal governments, including litigation between the Bureau of Indian Affairs, members of the Passamaquoddy-Pleasant Point (Sipayik) Reservation, and various energy companies seeking leases for land in trust. In addition to work with NN, Francis’s second activist group, The Schoodic Riverkeepers, has dedicated its work to more recent issues involving the St. Croix River alewife (a migratory species of herring) and glass eel. The group has called for these two species to be restored through measures such as unrestricted spawning runs, traditional resource management such as catch limiting, and increased support for an indigenous economy through export of fish products ("Vera Francis-Personal Interview").
For over 600 generations of Passamaquoddy ancestry, the St. Croix River alewife (Siqonomeq in the Maliseet language) has traveled from the brackish tidal waters of Passamaquoddy Bay to upstream spawning grounds in the river's 1,650 square mile watershed ("8.0 St. Croix River Basin" 1-2). With eight independent tributary streams and lakes, the St. Croix River basin provides the freshwater environment necessary for the alewives' annual run. Today, things have changed for the migratory fish. Alewives will travel 35 miles inland through the lower branch of the river, as they always have. They will reach the town of Baileyville, Maine, as they always have. And, since 2008, they will be allowed by the Canadian government to pass through the Milltown Dam, which is used for hydroelectric power generation ("St. Croix Alewife Pt. 2").
The fish will then travel to Woodland Dam where, since 1998, alewives have been permitted by the state of Maine to pass further upstream. This brings the fish to Grand Falls, where their journey ends. For just over 17 years, the alewives have finished their run at the Grand Falls Dam, where they are left to spawn in tributary lakes and streams below this point ("The Alewifes Argument" 1). International opposition has kept them here, and, until recently, it was uncertain if the fish would ever go further.
Sport fishermen see the alewife as a pest since the mature fish are able to feed on the fry of a much more coveted species, the small mouth bass. While bass str renowned as the prize of fisherman around the word, for the Passamaquoddy this marine trophy has overshadowed the ecological and cultural significance of the St. Croix alewife. The economy of Maine's sport fishing industry, along with the continuing need for hydroelectric power along the river, have cut off the remainder of the alewives' territory ("St. Croix Alewife Pt. 2"). As a result, roughly half of Passamaquoddy ancestral territory receives no yearly spawn. Furthermore, the alewives's current run is cut off from nearly 98% of tributary area by square mileage. Thus, the tribe has not received any natural supply of alewife to upper tributaries in almost a quarter of a century ("Vera Francis-Personal Interview"). Shortly, though, everything will change.
In addition to her efforts with land preservation and legal activism with NN, Francis is a founding member of a second Passamaquoddy activist organization known as the Schoodic Riverkeepers. Advocating for the tribe's traditional fishing rights, the organization focuses exclusively on alewife and river restoration, and has called on the U.S./Canadian International Joint Commission to restore the alewife's original territory. The Passamaquoddy believe strongly that the alewife is bestowed the natural and spiritual right to regenerate in its original scale (Toensing 1). Chief Hugh Agaki of the Passamaquoddy tribe at St. Andrews, New Brunswick, comments on this naturalistic philosophy:
"What’s happened to the Alewives is a reflection of what’s happened to ourselves, in terms of an indigenous species being displaced from our natural territory..." (Passamaquoddy Push for Restoration of Alewife..." 1)
To say that the alewife is tied to the Passamaquoddies' livelihood would be an understatement. The alewife, much like the glass eel, is a culturally-embedded species. The two species were once among three other searun fish in the St. Croix. Now that the Atlantic Salmon, Shad, and Blueback Herring are gone, these two fish are all the tribe has left ("St. Croix Alewife Pt. 2").
Vera Francis sits in front of her shoreline camp on Schoodic Lake. The sun has just dipped below the horizon, and it is dusk when my call reaches her. She is fishing for glass eels--not a breed, but an age where the juvenile eel is transparent, giving its body an almost crystal-like appearance. "We're paying attention to what's going on," Vera mentions in reference to current state legislation.
The legislation in question is Maine House Bill L.D. 451, unanimously reccommended for a house vote by Maine's Marine Resources Committee and signed by the governor on March 21st, 2013. Because of L.D. 451, Vera is considered non-licensed by the state of Maine because she is above an imposed license limit, capped at 200 for the Passamaquoddy.
I discover that Vera is actually fishing for glass eels in protest, (her licence number would be 341 if not for such strict regulations). In the state's eyes, she is not supposed to be doing what she is doing--and may even be asked to leave. In the eyes of her ancestors, she is doing what she is meant to do, and what her tribe has done for thousands of years. How, then, is the debate settled, when modernity and resource management clash with the intrinsic right to preserve one's way of life?
Vera explains to me that this "debate" need not exist. "We are fishing through a sustainable management plan that is focused on what comes out of the water." The Passamaquoddy's solution to the ecological fragility of the glass eel is quite literally a matter of numbers.
Rather than managing the species through access to fishing licenses alone, the juvenile eel is preserved by measuring how many are caught. When tribal members reach their catch limit, they simply stop fishing. This practice is in direct contrast to the state's approach on glass eel fishing where year by year, eel licenses have been tightened in their availability. L.D. 451 only worstens the prospect for legal traditional fishing. For regular eel harvesters, scant licensure is merely an inconvenience. For the Passamaquoddy, the glass eel (often fetching up to two thousand dollars per pound) is not just essential but financially critical ("Feds to Stay out of Maine Glass Eel Dispute" 1).
It's not just about the fish. Vera reminds me that the glass eel and alewife demand specific fishing practices. One must learn how to craft a seine for the eel, how to rig it in the water, and how to know when to stop fishing. These practices maintain the tradition of practical knowledge and skill that has always been a part of Passamaquoddy life. By continuing to fish for alewife and glass eel, the Passamaquoddy have also created an economy that supports industry outside of the tribe. Alewife is a good baitfish: catches are used by fish processing plants to create fish meal for lobstering, and are shipped off to distributors for commercial bait supply. When manufacturers, fish processors, and fisherman use the alewife, or when glass eels are purchased for eating, these subsequent economies perpetuate the traditional practices of the Passamaquoddy and ensure their future with a traditional marine subsistence ("Vera Francis-Personal Interview"). Francis explains why these indigenous fishing rights are so critical: "If you can't fully access the environment to participate in the traditional activity, you cannot acquire a traditional economy. You won't be able to acquire the knowledge or new knowledge that is required to sustain a traditional economy."If the Passamaquoddy are to maintain this traditional economy, they must continue their advocacy for the resources that allow them to do so. Still, the frantic pace of modern progress will continue to conflict with the ecological necessity of tribal members. The impact of development along the St. Croix will push relentlessly forward--but so too will the Passamaquoddy. Francis's commitment to preserving the glass eel is illustrative of her continuing commitment to her own ancestral territory. The alewife will soon see waters that have not been seen in decades. The glass eel may finally receive the responsible fishing management needed to ensure its future as well. These are the triumphs that define Vera Francis, and define the Passamaquoddy as a resilient, adaptive, and resourceful people.
In an ongoing effort to inform scholarly communities, Vera is published in the March 2012 issue of Yemaya, a journal for gender and fisheries published by the International Collective in Support of Fishworkers (ICSF). In her article, Francis reminds readers how the perception of progress from the colonial perspective is often seen as a detriment to indigenous communities and their ecological resources (Francis 2-3).
*This article began as a biographical entry for Wikipedia. Thanks to Vera Francis for her interview, and for her feedback on both the Wikipedia article and this one.
“The Alewives Argument". The Portland Press Herald / Maine Sunday Telegram. Web. 22 Apr. 2013.
Alewife St. Croix Part 2. Dir. Ed Bassett. 2010. Digital Media.
“Feds to Stay Out of Maine Glass Eel Dispute.” Sun Journal. Web. 21 Apr. 2013.
Francis, Vera J. "Exercising Sovereignty on the Sea." Yemaya 39 (2012): 2-3. Print.
“Legislators Pass Bill to Reopen River to Alewives." The Kennebec Journal, Augusta, ME. Web. 22 Apr. 2013.
Toensing, Gale C. "Passamaquoddy Nation Seeks to Free Alewives on St. Croix River - ICTMN.com." Indian Country Today Media Network.com. Indian Country Today, 11 July 2012. Web. 21 Apr. 2013.
"Vera Francis-Personal Interview." Telephone interview. 19 Apr. 2013.
Walsh, Tom. "Passamaquoddy Push for Restoration of Alewife Spawning Grounds."Passamaquoddy Push for Restoration of Alewife Spawning Grounds. Bangor Daily News, 10 June 2012. Web. 21 Apr. 2013.
"8.0 St. Croix River Basin (Eastern Maine Coastal)." Maine.gov. N.p., Oct. 2007. Web. 20 Apr. 2013.
]]>