Squash Blossom 2011

One of the most beautiful flowers I believe I have ever seen is the squash blossom. My ancestors thought so much of this flower that it was incorporated into clothing, footwear, jewelry, and accessories for hundreds of years. The squash blossom in its simple beauty also served as a reminder that some of the bounty of the early harvest was coming soon. It was a portent of the late harvest to come as well.

It was and is a symbol of beauty and fragility too. For the last four years, I have kept a garden at my house, and every year I write a post as I see the squash blossom open early in the morning to sunbathe it’s delicate saffron petals. I feel like skills like growing food are becoming quickly forgotten in the West. In my family, we have always grown food, and we have had a longstanding tradition of sharing our harvest with friends and neighbors, and canning some of our harvest to store for the winter months as well.

I realized that I was missing a great deal by not having a garden. I was missing an understanding of where food comes from. I was missing an awareness of what it means to labor for my food. I was missing the joy that comes at harvest time when there is food to eat and grand celebration. My family is Shawnee, and many of my tribe’s ancient ceremonies are intricately tied to planting and harvest.

This year, I have had the distinct joy of planting together with my wife. It is the first time in her life she has planted any crop. And it is exciting to watch her eyes light up as well when she sees the seeds that she planted earlier this year provide food for our new life together and food that we can share with others.

There is an unexplainable sense of gratitude I feel to the Creator of the universe that I experience uniquely when I taste and see the harvest coming. All I did was prepare the soil and drop a seed in the ground, and then amazingly that seed becomes a plant and that plant produces food. Around the world and throughout the history of humanity, I believe that farmers around the world experience that wonderful mixture of gratitude and joy that happens when they see the growth of their crop and they prepare for the harvest and celebration of food to eat for their families.

And for me and my wife this year, we look at the beautiful bouquet of squash blossoms erupting from our garden as an indicator of the harvest to come, and we are thankful.

msi kah miqui

This is my tribe's tribal council house. I have a lot of fond memories of this place. The building has twelve sides and twelve posts. These posts represent the twelve clans of my tribe, as well as the twelve disciples of Jesus. In the center of the building is a center pole. It holds the weight of the building. It represents the shawnee nation as a whole, and the God of all creation who sustains all of life.

I'm writing this blog entry not just to tell you about the building. Although I could go on and on about memories of this space--it's a pretty sacred place.

This weekend at chestnut ridge church, I shared a little story about my chief. He was asked to speak on American Indian issues at a nearby National Park, and he had invited some of us younger guys to join him. It was pretty exciting--we were dressed in our traditional ceremonial regalia, and were walking along a footpath at this park.

Sometimes at these parks they have historic re-enactors around. At this event they had some folks who were representative of "redcoats" british soldiers. They had a guy playing a flute, a drummer, and a guy playing bagpipes. They even had folks carrying around black powder rifles. It was when I saw these guys marching along the footpath that I got an idea.

The area along the footpath was a marsh--there were cattails and bulrushes growing along both sides of the path. I told a couple of young guys with me that we should form a "war party" and "ambush'" these soldiers. And so we hid among the cattails until they passed us, and then we rushed out with blood-curdling war-whoops! We scared the daylights out of those "soldiers". It was like re-living some aspect our our ancestors lives.

But then the park rangers caught up to us. They began to lecture us, and even threatened us with ejection from the park. And then one of the rangers asked if we were Shawnees with Chief Raincrow. I answered yes, and then we got an even greater tongue lashing. We were representatives of my tribe and now we had created an "international incident."

I knew we had to tell my chief, so our little "war party" went down the path for our confessional. We were so bummed about the thought of disappointing our okeema. But he told us not to worry--that if anybody from the parks service talked to him he would deal with it. He thanked us for being honest and telling him what we had done. And then he winked at us.

He was kind of impressed with our tactical strategy among the reeds.

My chief had a way of letting people know they were accepted, protected, defended, and cared for. That's a very special thing. Everybody wants that. Why wouldn't they? it's great to belong to a community and have a strong leader.

Even greater than that gift, is the gift that God offers us--we are uniquely blessed by the creator of the universe. We belong to Him. He has reconciled us to Himself, and He is our great leader.

Just some old memories and reminders of great truths from a Shawnee.

Corn-u-copia

Corn-u-copia, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Last week, I harvested the corn from my garden. I haven't had as many photos of my garden here in Morgantown this year simply because I have been out of town so much.

But I've been in Morgantown for most of the last month now. And I was able to eat a lot of corn, and share it with friends. There was enough corn for a nice roast--everyone who wanted an ear could have one. The remainder, we cooked up and froze--I'm looking forward to some mid winter corn from the ol' garden.

It's amazing how much food can be produced in just a tiny square of your yard. And this food was produced with very little up-keep. We had sugar dots, silver queen, and some kind of red sweet corn. All were yummy.

I can remember celebrating green corn each year with my tribe in the past. We would have a big kettle in which we would cook all of the corn, and there would be plenty for everyone. It's a time when we remember and thank our good God for His provision, and we enjoy a meal together. Even though I wasn't with my tribe this year, I was able to celebrate green corn in an unconventional way with a few of my non-native friends who love Jesus and corn!


Now I'm just sad that green corn time only comes once per year. At least I have friends year round tho!

Me and the Kerr's Marching Through the Crowd

Me and the Kerr's Marching Through the Crowd, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Yeah, i know. this is going back a bit, but this is a photo of me and the Kerr clan making our way through the crowd at the powwow. That's my hair in the foreground. ;)

So I decided against staying in a tent for now. Maybe it was the heavy rains over the weekend, or perhaps it's just the thought of dealing with the sand. I don't want to wake up in a windstorm or a tropical depression while staying in a tent. But maybe I'll try it later this week--time will tell.

Right now I am staying with 22 of the students who are involved in GCM's Leadership Training program. They have renamed their beach house The Soul Den, and it has been a pretty cool experience so far. Most of us don't do well with living in community like that, but there's something profound in the formation of our character that we are missing out on by not experiencing community in this way.

In my opinion, this is one of the best parts of the program. For me, it's also been cool sharing with the students and hearing what God has been doing in their lives this summer.

You know, as I was looking at the photo of my best friend and his family, I couldn't help but think--most of us spend our time navigating the crowd. We just kind of weave our way through. Maybe our real need is to stop weaving and navigating, and engage the crowd. We need to stop being passersby and get connected. With my frequent travel this summer, it has been challenging but possible to get connected with folks wherever I have been.

The sad truth is that many of us spend our entire lives in one place, and never venture to connect to the community around us. Take a step out today and make a connection with someone. Maybe it will simply be a gesture of hospitality toward someone else, or maybe, God will be doing something in you through the process.

My First Powwow in a couple of years

My First Powwow in a couple of years, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Well, I am attempting to catch up a bit from the last month. I took this photo at the Lost But Not Forgotten 1st Annual Eastern Woodlands Powwow. If you are interested in checking out powwows in your area, you can visit this sitefor potential listings.

Powwows represent a hodge-podge of Native American culture from various traditions. While there are both spiritual, financial, musical, and physical components, these events largely provide a space for Indians and non-natives alike to connect and celebrate culture.

I went to visit my best friend on the planet--Willie--and his family near columbus and we took a road trip to this powwow. Willie and I both felt like it was one of the best powwows we had been to in a while. We knew many of the songs, so it was a bit nostalgic for us--it's not often you here Shawnee songs being sung at a powwow. The vendors were really friendly and down to earth too. Sometimes you can go to an event like this (regardless of culture--people are people) and it's as though people take on a different persona--people were very real, personable, and friendly across the board at this event.

While I was at the powwow, I had a long conversation with a flute maker. He had some flutes that were made from olive wood from Israel. The trees were very old. I told him I had a really good friend who did some woodworking in Israel. At first he didn't get my drift, and then he knew the woodworker I was talking about--that was his Master. So me and the flute guy talked about Jesus and flutes and powwows and music. I bought a flute.

I used to play in my tribe's tribal council house a while back, but never quite had the opportunity to play a ton, but now, I'm learning it again.

After cutting my hair, it's been really good to walk in places like powwows and experience traditions like playing the flute. Of course, most people have no idea about my background, and that's ok. It doesn't diminish me, my culture, or my enjoyment of my traditions (and other's) any less. It's good to be around other native people--especially Willie and his family.

This event took place about a month ago, but the story is worth sharing. If I am able to attend this powwow in the future, I probably will. And in the mean time, I will definitely enjoy playing my flute, and learning to slow down and appreciate the world around me.

After My Cousin's Work Was Done--My Hair Cut

After My Cousin's Work Was Done, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Well, I've been praying and considering for the past year, whether or not to cut my hair back to it's length before I was a Christian. I started growing my hair out as a cultural symbol of my Shawnee ethnic heritage, and also as a symbol of my faith in Christ. My ancestors used to grow their hair long as a symbol of freedom, and since Christ set me free from my sinful life, I felt it appropriate to grow my hair to honor my ancestral traditions and celebrate what God has done.

At the same time, my ancestors would often cut their hair as a symbol of mourning and honoring those who had past out of this life into the afterlife. When my mom died last June, I cut my hair significantly to honor/mourn her. As the anniversary of her death approached, I felt like I should have it cut the rest of the way down. My life, and the lives of my family will not be the same with out her. In my spirit, and after much prayer, I feel cutting my hair short was an extremely appropriate gesture.

Beyond this, since the resignation of my chieftainship, which you can read about here, I have been mourning and broken-hearted over the state of my tribe. I could write with profundity about the deep, rich symbolic nature of a Shawnee man cutting his hair, but I believe these few words will suffice.

People who knew me before I was a Christian, will probably vaguely remember me looking this way. People who meet me from now on will probably not know about this story. And many who know me now probably won't get it either. C'est la vie, I guess. Truth is there are stories we all carry that very few people are privy to.

Will I grow it long again? I don't know, I imagine it will be short for quite some time, but one never really knows what will happen in this life. I spent fourteen years of my life with long hair.

For those of you conscientious people who are wondering--the answer is yes--I did donate my hair to locks of love.

And for those of you who have seen me, and have been wondering--as so many non-native people do, "What's up with the haircut?"--now you know . . .

Mourning Hair and Celebrating Tradition

Mourning Hair, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

My ancestors had many traditions that made them unique. Over the last several years I have worked to learn, teach, and share many of them. One of them has to do with hair.

The men of our tribe would grow their hair long as a symbol of freedom. It was meant to reflect the fact that we have an unconquerable spirit, that we are always shawnee, and that we are free.

I used to wear my hair short. Then, on November 12, 1994, I put my faith in Jesus Christ. I became a Christian. I was set free from my slavery to sin, death, and evil. Because I was finally free, it was an appropriate time to start growing my hair. If you've ever wondered, the growing of my hair is both a symbol of my heritage as a Shawnee, and a symbol of the true freedom that Jesus offers each and every one of us when we put our trust in Him.

My ancestors also had another tradition--when a loved one passed on, they would cut their hair as a symbol of their mourning, and as a way of honoring those who went before them.

Saturday, after my mom's funeral service, I honored her in this ancient way. I celebrated our common heritage as Shawnee people. I celebrated her life and mourn her departure from this world as well. Even though I know she is with Jesus, I'm going to miss her dearly--we all are.

I gave the hair that was cut to locks of love so that someone else who is fighting cancer like my mom did can wear it. It's another way participating in this tradition can bless and serve another human being.

Already, people have begun asking about my "new style" so I figured this blog would be a helpful way to introduce people to this ancient tradition I participated in, and it also might explain to many why I wear my hair long in the first place.

Sometimes in our modern world we lose sight and are confused by the diversity of traditions that are out there. We have very little idea or understanding of the swirl of cultures around us. I encourage you today to take some time and learn a little bit about the beautifully intricate world and people among which we live.

Sharing Stories

Sharing Stories, originally uploaded by chanchanchepon.

Earlier this year, I presented a paper at the Native American Literature Symposium which was held on the Isabella Indian Reservation in Mount Pleasant, MI. The Isabella Indian Reservation is home to the Saginaw Chippewa Tribe of Michigan. This photo was taken in their cultural museum. This particular exhibit shows one of the ways which traditions are passed from one generation to another. It is as we gather together and listen and learn from our older people we learn and pass these stories on to future generations. It is this way among the Shawnee as well as the Chippewa, and probably true of all peoples--problem is many people don't take time to listen to the stories anymore.

That's definitely not the case with my family.

Yesterday we had several visitors in my mom's room at the hospital. She is staying in one of a handful of suites that were designed for such a purpose. Among the visitors have been my nephew and sister in law, many friends, and a number of our extended family members.

While it has been an emotional time for all of us it has also been a good time of celebration of our many memories with our mom and with each other. All through the day and night we have been sharing stories with each other and with my mom. My mom has also been sharing in special ways with each one of us.

It is truly a gift to be able to sit at my mom's feet, and at the feet of so many other godly people and continue to soak in their wisdom and life lessons. As the younger ones of our family sit at the feet of these wisdom keepers, we relish in the joy of hearing their words and learning from them. At the same time we realize the responsibility also lies with us to pass these lessons on. That has always been a part of our way of living.

Do you take time to listen to the older people in your life? Who are the teachers in your family who you need to take time to listen to? Or maybe you are that teacher--are you passing your stories on to the next generation?

I marvel at the greatest Story, and how the Great Storyteller allows each one of us to take part in a long legacy of sharing our own stories of how Jesus has walked with us. He has made his presence felt in a very intimate and sacred way to our family during these last few days. It has been beautiful, wonderful, and utterly indescribable. May you know Him in such a way as you read these words!

Night Sky

Last night I drove out with some friends to my friend Jeremiah's house to watch a meteor shower. Ricky Beamer took the picture above (among many others) and posted them to facebook if you wanna see more of em. I tried to take some photos with my camera, but unfortunately I just couldn't get anything but darkness--no stars, nothing.

So a half dozen of us took some blankets, and laid down on a hill close to Jeremiah's house in Preston county. It was really relaxing to just spend some time like that. I realized that most of my life I have rarely taken time to lay on the ground and just look up at the sky for an extended period of time. The night sky is beautiful. The daytime sky is pretty cool too, but I just seem to get so busy in the comings and goings of life that I fail to really appreciate the beauty of looking upward.

Of course there are all kinds of spiritual implications to this. We need to not be so busy that we forget to look to God, and ideas like that are definitely true, and came to my mind last night.

But much of the evening I thought about two things. Firstly, I thought about how the heavens declare the glory of God. I thought about how vast the heavens are, and how much more vast Christ is, and how it would be easy to begin to explore the heavens and get distracted in the process, but how wonderful it is to explore the created order and see the fingerprints of God--everywhere.

The second thing I thought about was having undistracted times with people. I thought about my tribe's land, and how we would often stay up half the night talking about Jesus, and drumming and singing, and watching meteor showers on our little plot of land. We would share stories with one another, and as the weekend continued on, life would take on more and more of a simple beauty. I feel like last night touched on that simple beauty. There is something about connecting with others, connecting with creation, connecting with yourself, and most importantly connecting with God that happens most artfully as we leave most of our daily distractions behind.

I hope you are able to take some time to set aside the busy plodding of life to soak in the special moments with friends and family over the holidays. Maybe give the television a rest for a bit. Shut off your computer. Turn off your cell phone. And enjoy the simple beauty of a night with friends and family.

Ifs and ands

Here I am after about of week of not writing just thinking about all of the entries i had hoped to make. So much happening in and around my world, and yet I have had very little time to talk about it all. Rather than lament the ifs and ands of life, I am just going to give a brief update of the last few days.

Tuesday night I had some folks over from my class to watch a movie for class. It was really cool. My professor came also and brought her son (he is starting college in the fall). It was just nice to watch a movie and discuss the movie. It has also been cool to be here in Morgantown in the place this summer.

Wednesday was a long day of meetings and planning for the future look and shape of h2o. I also was able to eat some mulberries. I love those things.

Thursday consisted of an ironically relaxing day. I got up at seven, went to class at nine, had a lunch get together, went rock climbing, enjoyed a cup of starbucks, and then proceeded to the grocery store with a few friends, had a delicious meal, and enjoyed watching storm clouds roll in as we all laid on the ground looking up at the sky. We had a fire in my chimineya and blankets on the ground, and it was just a beautiful way to end the day.

Friday--I woke up at 6AM and baked two loaves of bread. Then I went to class for the last time this summer. After class I began prepping for a trip to Cincinnati via columbus. I made fry bread until 1:30AM with my best friend in the whole world and his wife.

Saturday--I woke up @6AM and began cooking fry bread for breakfast for people and taught Christian and Emalee (Willie's children) how to make fry bread. We drove to cincinnati, and I was able to meet my friend karen, and a number of people from her church to discuss a cafe in Morgantown. I then commenced the return trip (with a short side-trip to a pow-wow), and made it home around 11PM.

Ancient Prayer

well, I just got back from my tribe's land. It's the first time I've set foot on that space since the fall of 2004. It was kind of weird.

I really felt like I needed to go somewhere and connect with God. It was such a beautiful evening, so I wanted to make the most of it. Out of nowhere, I felt this prompt to go to "the Mountain." I debated the trip. Why not just go for a walk through the neighborhood. But the thought wouldn't go away. Even though it was late, I hopped in my car, and drove. I knew the moon would be lighting up the land also, but I wasn't sure what was driving me there.

I didn't know how it would be. I had a wonderful time of prayer in the middle of the night, and watched the moon rise over the horizon. It cast shadows across the land.

Up there, it was just me and God, and the natural world. Maybe I was giving myself closure by going, or maybe I was just re-opening old wounds. I'm still trying to figure it out.

It's hard to believe that I once spent so much of my life on that piece of ground. I'm grateful for my unique heritage. I'm even grateful for the learning and growth that have taken place in my life as a result of my experiences among other Shawnee people. In some ways my whole experience among my people, and even the last couple of years, seems so surreal.

Amazingly, God has already answered at least one of my prayers this evening. I look forward to Him answering my prayers for the Shawnee people as well.