TFN Staff

Going PLACES: Generational Trauma Across Indigenous Communities

By Jonathan Cunningham, Program Officer, Seattle Foundation

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Going PLACES is an occasional blog series featuring the voices and experiences of TFN’s PLACES Fellows. For more information on the fellowship, and to read past blog posts from our fellows, visit here.

Growing up and reading about the atrocities the United States government committed against Native American tribes in the past, those wounds always struck me as close in nature — related in a way — to the atrocities that enslaved Africans experienced during a similar time period in the U.S. Thus, I’ve always wanted to have closer relationships with Native Americans — to talk about our shared experiences. However, being raised in Detroit, Mich., didn’t allow for that. I didn’t know any Native American families as a child or young adult. So like many kids raised in a U.S. school system, I only knew what I read about in school or saw on T.V.

As a 2019 PLACES fellow, when the list of site visit locations was announced, I found myself most intrigued by visiting Bismarck, North Dakota. I was excited to learn we’d get a chance to spend time with Indigenous leaders on the ground in the heart of Indian Country to hear about what issues are most pertinent with the Lakota people. I was immediately excited, humbled and nervous to learn that we’d not only spend a day visiting the Standing Rock Reservation, but that we’d meet with members of their tribal council — a very rare honor. I first learned about the Standing Rock Reservation during the intense stand-off and fight against the Dakota Access Pipeline in 2016. The resiliency, resistance and indigenous wisdom which emerged during the protests at Standing Rock captured the world’s attention for 10 months. For anyone interested in learning more about it, check out videos and stories by Native filmmakers, who were best positioned to do the story justice. In January 2017, I wrote a story for City Arts Magazine in Seattle about one of the most powerful women I know, Tracy Rector, who is an Emmy-award winning mixed Choctaw/Seminole filmmaker, writer, storyteller, healer and executive director of the non-profit Indigenous Showcase, who traveled to Standing Rock with her son Solomon to experience the spiritual protest firsthand and capture it on film. Her account of the beauty she experienced at Standing Rock, juxtaposed with many of the problems and culture clashes that arose when larger groups of “white allies” arrived at the camp, is quite powerful. In a way, that’s a story which plays out time and time again in philanthropy as well.

I wrote that story just as my philanthropy career was beginning. My interview with Tracy Rector was published January 17, 2017. Ironically, that was also my official first day as a program officer at the Seattle Foundation. As a funder in Seattle, a city named after the Suquamish and Duwamish tribal leader Chief Sealth, it’s my responsibility to build alliances with the original inhabitants of this land, the traditional Coast Salish people. I have to humbly admit that my connections to Native communities as a funder are not as deep as I would like them to be. I have a long way to go in building stronger relations with the Native tribes in Greater Seattle. It’s not easy — but it’s not impossible either. At my most self-critical, I think it’s my fault for not trying hard enough or doing better outreach to ensure our grant programs have strong Native representation in the applicant pool. But I also have to remember many structural barriers exist that often prevent Native organizations from applying for grant programs, including one that doesn’t take much brain power to figure out: After 500 years, Native folks have ample reasons not to trust institutions. And despite the mutually expressed desire for Black folks and Native folks to work together more often, it doesn’t happen nearly enough. As a challenge to myself, I’d like to dive deeper into why that is.

Being in North Dakota opened my eyes to many things happening in tribal communities that I wasn’t previously privy to and I’d like to share those lessons with others. I found myself incredibly impressed during our site visit to the United Tribes Technical College, listening to Scott Davis who heads the North Dakota Indian Affairs Commission. Some of the things they’re working on building up is tourism, technology, clean energy, education, and strengthening relationships between tribal communities and the federal government. Davis, who is Lakota and Cheyenne, reminded us that most of the treaties signed by Native tribes and the federal government weren’t honored and were disregarded by local governments. The government’s legacy of giving their word and taking it back whenever they chose is a problem that’s centuries old and it still plays out today.

I immediately thought of the racist term “Indian Giver” used to categorize Native Americans who didn’t keep their word…who gave things and then took them back—and felt the irony. It’s takes an unfathomable amount of racism to commit centuries of atrocities against a people, craft treaties only to repeatedly break them and then label the Native Americans as the ones who were untrustworthy.

Other nuggets of wisdom that stayed with me: “Trauma is carried in our DNA. Alcoholism, boarding schools, child abuse. Mental health. A lack of access to health and wellness for our Urban Indians. Murdered Native women. These traumas are carried in our DNA. But my people also have resiliency and courage. They didn’t break us.”

There’s so much to unpack in that quote from Davis. I’m someone whose sobriety is incredibly important to me, thus my ears really perked up when Scott mentioned he was most proud of being 13 years sober. It’s no secret that alcoholism and substance abuse is a big issue within Native communities, just like it is within African American communities. That’s yet another thing where Black and Native folks have used substances as coping mechanisms to deal with the trauma that’s been inflicted upon us in this country for centuries.

Popular author, speaker and philanthropy professional Edgar Villanueva’s seminal book Decolonizing Wealth, also speaks about epigenetics and ways trauma is carried down through our DNA. Not surprisingly, Villanueva is Native American, thus this was another reminder of how the field of philanthropy would be wise to humble itself and learn from Native wisdom more often.

When Scott spoke about the murdered Native women, I couldn’t help but think of how this was becoming an epidemic all across Indian Country. According to Davis, part of the problem is jurisdiction issues between local/state officials and tribal police in investigating crimes. Tribal police fall under the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and there aren’t enough law officers to cover the vast territories on reservations. Scott mentioned there are times when there’s only one tribal police officer on and 911 response times can take upwards of 45 minutes. If this is the case, it’s not surprising crimes go unsolved.  

Here in Seattle, our daily newspaper the Seattle Times, is running a powerful multi-part series video series about violence against Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW). Roxanna White is featured in one of the videos. She’s an enrolled member of the Nez Perce tribe. I know her personally and her story of the sex trafficking that occurs within tribal communities is powerful and deserving of more attention. Seattle Foundation is now proudly partnering with Seattle Times on an Investigative Journalism Fund, and while there are many stories that deserve deep investigative reporting, having more resources committed to daylighting pertinent issues within Native communities is a worthwhile cause that we're looking at putting more muscle into as a foundation.

Through Davis we also learned that Native Americans weren't considered citizens until 1924. Before that they were considered wards of the government — on their own land. My jaw almost hit the floor. Peak racism at its finest.

The United Tribes Technical College offers 16 associate degrees, four bachelor’s degrees and a technical training program. Scott mentioned that within Native communities, they noticed that some of their youth were going to traditionally white colleges and experiencing culture shock. They were going to state colleges but unfortunately dropping out and coming back home. The need for a space like United Tribes Technical College reminds of how important Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) are and how they have long served as a haven for Black students from the same cultural and racial issues indigenous students have been met with.

Lorraine Davis also spoke to us. She heads the Native American Development Center and helps with the Community Development Financial Institutions work. They offer peer to peer support for businesses. Peer support to help people in recovery. She was very knowledgeable in how Community Development Corporations (CDCs) work. She helps with streamlining the process to getting Native entrepreneurs business loans.  She taught us about the website Prosperity Now and the invaluable data it provides when looking at trends within minority communities. They are working to get data broken down by tribes I’ve been using the website since I learned of it through her. Lorraine mentioned that there aren’t a lot of foundations in North Dakota but much of her work is supported by the Northwest Area Foundation.

One of her many one-liners. “If you’re looking for solutions, start with the tribes. They have resilience and solutions but people don’t ask.”

Lorraine, who is very strong in her personality, is Scott Davis’ wife but doesn’t like to be referred to only as that. She’s successful and has her own identity apart from her husband’s. Amen to that.

If I’m going to build the deeper relationships with the Native organizations whose work I’m responsible for funding, I’ve got a lot more work to do. I’ll continue to expand my outreach in Native communities, ensure there are Native community reviewers helping us making decisions for all of the grant programs that I manage, and learn the names of all the tribes in the Puget Sound area. That outreach can’t just be by email alone. You have to get out and spend time with some of the Native leaders in our community and let them get to know you. That’s the only way trust is built. One recent progress on this front is I’ve asked our Community Programs team to start each of our meetings with a Land Acknowledgement, and they agreed. If I’m doing all of these things "in a good way", as Standing Rock Tribal Chairman Mike Faith repeatedly said during our visit, I think I’ll make progress.  It’s a responsibility that I, as a program officer, and foundations in general need to keep top of mind. Foundations based in the Puget Sound area undoubtedly owe a debt of gratitude to the Coast Salish tribes whose land we stand upon each day.

About The Author

Jonathan Cunningham is a program officer at the Seattle Foundation who brings a wealth of professional experience in developing, implementing and managing community initiatives. He is currently a Seattle Arts Commissioner with deep knowledge of navigating public, private and municipal partnerships. Jonathan previously worked at the Museum of Pop Culture (MoPOP) as Manager of Youth Programs and Community Outreach efforts and is passionate about using arts & culture as a strategy to create racial justice. He is a graduate of the University of Michigan and founder of The Residency, a youth development through hip-hop program based in Seattle.

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by TFN Staff

Going PLACES: Rise Above

By Steven Higashide, TransitCenter

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Going PLACES is an occasional blog series featuring the voices and experiences of TFN’s PLACES Fellows. For more information on the fellowship, and to read past blog posts from our fellows, visit here.

Our first order of business when we arrive in North Dakota for our most recent site visit as PLACES fellows, a red state and the 50th most travelled to state in the nation, was a conversation on assumptions: 

What assumptions are you holding for this site visit as it relates to Bismarck? 

What are your assumptions of Standing Rock Reservation? What are your expectations of the interactions and experiences that you will embark upon this week? 

I didn’t know much about North Dakota outside of valleys, reservations, and of course the recent outcry at Standing Rock; a protest against the construction of the Dakota Access Pipeline or #NODAPL. This information, inferences to the current administration and my own knowledge of the history of indigenous oppression, meant my assumptions were filled with emotion — and not exactly the happy kind. There was excitement around learning about a new culture, but for the most part my assumptions centered around fear, anger, frustration, and anxiety for the indigenous people. How could it not, right? When I think about my own experiences in this country, with the history of marginalization and protests within the black community, I find it challenging to operate without a sense of anxiety in this climate. I assumed the people we would meet would operate in a similar space. Surprisingly, the most important lesson that I learned during this visit to Standing Rock was not about injustice — it centered around healing. 

It is emotionally draining to operate in a space fueled by powerlessness, trauma, and hate. Those are not the items that we need to bring to the table in order to get to the work. We have to find ways to counteract our negative assumptions and emotions so that we can understand the pain that is being illustrated and learn how show up differently. I am reminded of this famous quote: 

“For the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.” – Audre Lorde 

How can we reframe our expectations to counteract the trauma and the responses that we are seeing? First, we have to be grounded. Can we drop everything that we thought we knew, and operate with a lens to understand? 

The following takeaways from Bismarck were monumental for me in reframing my expectations and counteracting my own trauma responses:

1. Ask specific questions. 

2. Try not to put your lens on the situation at hand. 

3. Amplify the stories that are shared. 

4. How do we actively check our privilege? 

5. And in the immortal words of Kendrick Lamar: Be humble. 

I found it was helpful to create this catchy phrase based on the key words in that list, plus Kendrick's reminder to be humble: Specificity, Lens, Amplify, Privilege — Kendrick Lamar S.L.A.P.s. (For those of you not versed on slang, music that "slaps" means music that's cool.) And Kendrick Lamar's music is banging, right?

I found it both encouraging and enlightening that the people of Standing Rock focused on prayer instead of fear. The Sioux Tribe have a spiritual connection to the land that dates back centuries. Their fight is about protecting this space that has provided sustenance at a very human level for years and years. More than land rights, civil rights, human rights, or access, the #NODAPL movement was about giving life—bringing and sustaining life. And it is important to the cause to be able to share that story and to control the narrative. 

Tribe members told us that each morning they began #NODAPL with a prayer. Prayer was then taken aflame as campsites were started in other places and in communities across the world. Others began to join the protests seeing it through the indigenous lens. In addition, the Sioux tribe created an emergency preparedness team, filed lawsuits, and continued to test and monitor the construction of the pipeline. While the protest may be over, the fight continues. 

The struggle has not been without negative lasting effects. The Sioux Tribe shared that they are dealing with issues of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The smell of tear gas and the sound of barking dogs is traumatizing. And to add further injustice, recent legislation has now made it a felony to protest a pipeline according to state law SB189. 

What my time in North Dakota taught me is that if we are to do the work of justice and liberation, we must come from a place of grounding. This is not a simple fight. We not only need embrace the work, but we must fully embody it. In order to do those things, we have to make space for healing. It is, to me, the most important step of it all. 

Our friends at Standing Rock did this through prayer, but there are many other methods to getting to this space: telling stories, creating safe spaces, centering the voices of the community are all measures that philanthropy can take to support communities that experience trauma and systematic oppression. We must understand, however, that it is not a short-term process, neither is it simple or easy. And so support for this work has to be just as resilient and just as responsive in order to create a dynamic shift. 

As we have learned from Standing Rock, every case may not be a complete victory. But even in those times, our presence matters. 

So, we have to presence ourselves in the movement. Ask yourself: 

“What am I called to do in this work? What do I need to let go of? How can I model leadership? How can I bring people with me?” 

As Bina M. Patel, our PLACES facilitator, so often reminds us, “Find your purpose”. We must remember it’s not just our work. If we die tomorrow, the work continues. We must create our own paths and persevere. As hard as it is to sometimes accept, even in times where you feel like you have no agency and are complicit in oppression—find your power. Know your power. 

There was a time that I operated in hopelessness. This world can so often be calloused and cold. But I am learning that this is simply my trauma response. Community trauma is often cause by social inequities, oppression, erasure. But guess what? We deserve healing. We deserve joy. We deserve to win. And I can fight for that. I will fight for that. I’ll fight so that the trauma does not define me or our movements. This is where the true liberation comes in. 

For me, that is the work. I choose to be healed. 

Let’s find grounding so that we can: 

1. Embody this work. 

2. Create wins and avenues of joy. 

3. Rise above. 

I want to thank the Tribal Council and the Lakota peoples for humbly inviting us into their space at Standing Rock Reservation. What a unique and precious opportunity. Thank you for sharing your stories with us.

About The Author

Tonja Khabir is 2019 PLACES Fellow and executive director of the Griffith Family Foundation, a social entrepreneur and community relations specialist from Macon, Ga. She has managed and supported programming in the fields of public health, community development, and education for over 10 years. As a bio-behavioral health researcher, Khabir supported teams in East & Southern Africa, enhancing health and development in vulnerable communities with organizations like USAID, International Organization for Migration, Global Health Action, and the University of Western Cape. She returned to her hometown of Macon in 2014 as the founder of Two Hands International, a nonprofit encouraging global leadership for underrepresented high school students in Middle Georgia.

She is a 2018 Emerging Cities Champion with 8 80 Cities and the John S. and James L. Knight Foundation. She is a founding partner of Urbane: Young Black Professionals Network of Central Georgia and was named a 2018 Emerging Leader with NewTown Macon Partners in Progress. She serves on several boards and in Macon- Bibb including the United Way of Central Georgia, the Grand Opera House, and the ONE Macon Strategic Planning Committee. Tonja has a B.A. in Sociology from Fisk University and a Master of Public Health from Morehouse School of Medicine. 

She loves yoga, reading, traveling, cooking and the arts.

 

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by TFN Staff

Going PLACES: A Moment In Your Day

By Michelle Morris, Director of Community Philanthropy, Duluth Superior Area Community Foundation

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Take a moment from the demands of your beckoning calendar to consider this with me:

Visualize yourself with your family and friends enjoying the places you feel most connected with and doing the things that make you happy and fulfilled. Pause while the sights, sounds and smells bring you a sense of calm and you might even be smiling a little.

Now imagine that this place is no longer yours. You cannot be here anymore. You, your family and your friends can no longer do those activities that brought you joy. Imagine that having lost what makes you feel complete, you courageously raise your voice to express that this is not right and draw attention to it. Not only are you not heard, you are spoken over by a louder voice using words that are distorting what you are saying.

“That could never happen,” you might be thinking; or you might be feeling sorrow, fear and anger at the thought of this; or maybe this has happened to you, your family, and your friends. The Dakota men, women and children of the Standing Rock Tribe have had spaces and traditions that are deeply a part of who they are taken and threatened. They continue to be spoken over and experience the pain of violence. This is reality. This is today.

Many people heard about the Standing Rock “protests” in the news, and perhaps you shared these stories, too. Think back. Where did you hear and read these stories? Who was telling them? As you consider this, are Dakota tribal members coming to mind as prominently as the journalists and activists? Very likely — no. As you consider losing what you care most deeply about, imagine your outrage at this violation: Not only are you not heard, the reality of your experience is being invalidated and erased.

I am challenging myself and you, particularly if you have white skin like I do, to amplify the voices of people of color telling their own stories. “Our people need to tell our story,” I heard a Standing Rock tribal member say at the PLACES Fellowship’s place-based learning experience.

What many people do not know is that the Standing Rock situation began as prayers by community members. Their prayers were co-opted by primarily white activists and were distorted into violent protests. The damage continues to affect members of Standing Rock, and not for the first time. While visiting a memorial for Chief Tatanka Iyotake — Sitting Bull — it struck me how similar the present is to the past. The memorial reads:

“Tatanka Iytake was killed by Tribal police at his home near Grand River on December 15, 1890. Tribal police were acting on orders to bring him into the agency in order to quell the Ghost Dance [a ceremonial dance they believed would bring back the old ways of life].”

Silencing by dominating the narrative and perpetrating violence against Native Americans continues today.

In addition to stories, consider another of our dominate ways of knowing, often more accepted as truth and upon which big decisions are made: Data. Numbers. Quantified measures. When you have finished reading this post, look up the demographic data that informs your own and your organization’s decision-making. Take note to see if Native Americans are included or if this entire group of people(s) have been excluded from the report, perhaps because of low numbers or because the data is aggregated across tribes making is less locally relevant. This is vital information when we apply it to philanthropic efforts for educational access and economic opportunity. We must support Native American communities collecting their own data to tell their own stories.

Along with the influence of stories, consider the influence of our dollars, both personally and professionally, and how they flow through our communities. Which businesses owned and operated by people of color do you utilize? One extraordinary business leader I met during this experience is Holly Doll, President, president of Native Artists United. The mission of Native Artists United is to support “the livelihood of Native artists by advocating for presence and opportunities to gift knowledge and skills, build capacity, and showcase Native art.” Consider how you can identify more businesses owned and operated by people of color and include them in your routines — see how your philanthropic dollars can also support developing entrepreneurs of color in your community. This flow of money is vital to the financial stability of communities of color.

A quote from Chief Tatanka Iyotake written on his memorial continues to come to my mind after this site visit that needs honest recognition and reparation still today: “What treaty have the Lakota made with the white man that we have broken? Not one. What treaty have the white men ever made with us that they ever kept? Not one.”

It is now a federal felony to protest pipelines. This does not align with Tribes being able to assert their sovereignty. As white citizens of the Unites States, we must participate in this democracy and hold our government accountable. As one tribal member said, “Treaties are the supreme law of the land. When the United States upholds them, then we can address social determinants of health and economic development.” Recovering from traumas will require going back to tribal ways and traditional culture and spirituality. Restoring connections with culture and the land is vital to the Standing Rock community.

There are two values I want to share that I brought home from the Dakota and Anishinaabeg cultures that I believe, if we all practiced them each day, would create drastic change:

1. Rather than say “that was powerful”, speak and act upon “that made me feel humbled.”

2. We must lead our lives for the world seven generations to come.

One last time, take a moment with me to consider the values that matter to you personally and those of your organization. How have you acted upon them already today? How will you include them in your time to come?

About The Author

Michelle Morris is Director of Community Philanthropy at the Duluth Superior Area Community Foundation. She advances the Foundation’s mission of private giving for the public good by partnering with nonprofit organizations and community leaders throughout northeast Minnesota and northwest Wisconsin to create positive outcomes through grants and scholarships. In addition, Michelle coordinates grantmaking for three initiatives: 1. Closing the opportunity gap by building a community that embraces diversity and inclusivity, where all children have abundant opportunities, and feel respected, safe and secure; 2. Increasing communities’ abilities to prepare for, respond to and recover from disasters, while particularly focusing on the community members who are most vulnerable; 3. Attracting and retaining young adults in the region through civic engagement, entrepreneurship and high quality of life.

Michelle earned her Master’s in Public Health from Columbia University, focusing on social determinants of health and health equity within health promotion. Michelle brings to her role experience in program design and management, evaluation through qualitative and quantitative research methods, community-based participatory research, and grant proposal writing and review.

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by TFN Staff