Reflection: Bonfires and Bonding

This year at our Nuru all-staff summit, we started a new tradition, or maybe we continued an older tradition in a new format. We gathered around a fire on the first night of our summit, and shared stories of ways in the past year different members of the team stepped forward and went above and beyond to carry the mission forward. This time of celebrating wins was not entirely new at Nuru, but, the bonfire was.

Sitting around that fire and enjoying some pizza and solid conversations and catch-up times with teammates as the sound of Pacific waves crashed in the darkness beyond us brought back several other memories for me. Back when I was more actively engaged in my tribal community, we would circle up around what we called "Indian-TV" or more specifically "Shawnee-TV" and conduct similar activities. We would enjoy meals, catch-up with one another, share stories, and laugh together as we enjoyed the dance of the fire/"TV" before us. My understanding is that our staff living in Ethiopia and Kenya also have fire pits around which they gather fairly often.

My tribe has a New Year's ceremony (not in January) in which the nation's fire is stamped out to signal the close of the old year and the start of the new year (there's much more to the ceremony, but this is one key element). As the fire is stamped out, individuals are encouraged to make amends, to forgive, and to leave the hurts of the previous year in the past. In this way each year starts with a clean slate.

I can remember heading out to one of my old roommate Lucas Harriman's family home in West Virginia during my undergraduate years too. We would gather about indoors, eat a ton of buckwheat cakes and pizza while simultaneously downing pot after pot of coffee, and then we would make our way outside to a fire pit, and gather around to sing praises to the Creator of the universe, share testimonies of what He was teaching us, and even take time to pray for one another.

I've always thought about a fire as a tool for survival, a place to keep warm, and a place to cook food and share meals, but in reality a fire represents a gathering place, and in some regard, the breath and life of a community. It's no wonder that people talk about relationships ending as "fires going out" or even of death in a similar fashion "their fire burnt out too early."

While I know that there are modern equivalents for gathering spaces, I can't help but think that a fire as a gathering space is unparalleled, especially a fire in the night. The fire calls us away from the darkness, calls us to warmth and laughter, and allows us to see one another more clearly rather than only seeing shadows.

Do you have any fireside memories? May we each make a practice of spending time together with others around a fire, and celebrate community, warmth, and connectedness.

Congratulations To The Pamunkey Tribe On Becoming Federally Recognized

Early this morning I read a post my friend Bill Sembello shared on Facebook announcing that the Pamunkey Indian Tribe, one of eight state recognized tribes in the Commonwealth of Virginia, recently received federal recognition as an American Indian Tribe. This is an incredibly significant leap forward for the Pamunkey and potentially for other tribes who are not federally recognized.

For most people who read this blog, you might know a little bit about my heritage as a Shawnee, but that doesn't mean you know a ton about Native American law, rights, or recognition in this country. You see, there tons of different agencies that seek to define who is a member of a tribe, who is an American Indian, etc. For instance, there are a number of tribes that are recognized by a state government or agency, and each tribe has distinct criteria for recognizing members. There's some great literature on this for any who are interested, here is a good place to start--the principal chief of my tribe recommended I read that book while I was in college. Being recognized by the federal government allows a tribe to be considered a sovereign nation within a nation, or as Justice Marshall wrote in his Supreme Court Opinion on Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, "domestic dependent states." Regardless of the rights and opportunities conferred upon a tribe when it is federally recognized, there's something more at hand, particularly for the Pamunkey.

The Pamunkey were the first natives that met the English at Jamestown in 1607. Heard of Pocahontas? Her real name was Matoaka, and she is probably the most famous Pamunkey Indian in Western history, and maybe one of the most famous American Indians in the last 400 years. In 1677, the Pamunkey Reservation was formed formally by the Governor of Virginia under the Authority of the King of England. The treaty is actually still honored to this day by members of the tribe bringing a deer to the Virginia Governor's mansion on Thanksgiving Day.

The British recognized the Pamunkey as a tribe. Virginia recognized the Pamunkey as a tribe. But, the United States did not formally recognize the Pamunkey as a tribe until July 2, 2015. The Pamunkey spent decades and more than 2 million dollars fighting for this recognition. They even had to fight against a resort who viewed their sovereignty (and potential for opening a casino) as a financial threat according to a recent article.

According to NPR, Pamunkey Chief Kevin Brown called this a vindication, and remarked that different groups had used "Paper genocide to attempt to erase us from the historic record." Most famously in the Commonwealth, this happened in the early 1900s through a man named Walter Plecker who drafted the Racial Integrity Law of 1924 in Virginia. It required that all births be registered as white or colored and aside from being an incredibly racist law in its most basic form, it also sought to eliminate Virginia Indians from the historical record.

Though many won't have the same level of interest in this decision, I'm personally incredibly excited for the Pamunkey, and for what this decision could potentially mean for the other tribes in Virginia currently seeking to be recognized by the federal government. And I'm also excited for what the recognition of the Pamunkey means for eastern Native people. For many, Indian people either no longer exist, or only exist "out West." In fact, this phenomenon led members of many Virginia tribes to share their stories in this book.

I used to make an annual trip with my Chief to an annual conference hosted by the Virginia Governor's Council On Indians. The people I met there have all been really great people--hard-working, community-oriented, faith-filled, and welcoming, and on the rare occasion I find myself traveling through the Commonwealth, I love getting together and catching up with all the good that is happening in their communities.

Regardless of what it means for other tribal communities, including my own, I am incredibly excited for the 208 members of the Pamunkey tribe. For one of the first tribes to meet European explorers and settlers to have survived and maintained their traditional way of life is a huge feat in and of itself, and honestly, this recognition is long overdue.