Perspective By Trina D. Sherwood, Cultural Specialist of Yakama Nation
From the womb and infancy, we learn the language of our parents, extended family and grandparents (if we’re lucky). It is from the womb that we hear the heartbeat of our mother and that is the sound that I learned to soothe a myálas (baby). A baby being placed in their sk’ín (cradleboard) and swaying in a swing is our cultural way to care for them. While you rock your baby, you mimic the sound of the heartbeat to the baby, and this allows them to feel that comfort of being both swaddled and listening to that familiar sound. Even a baby’s cry denotes a language of its own, a baby may need to be burped, changed, nursed, or soothed by being held close to a beating heart. My late íła (mother) taught me a lullaby in our Ichishkíin Sínwit (Yakama language) to soothe an infant. Years ago, I had been asked to teach that lullaby to a new mother and I offered that teaching to her and some others who were interested.
As we grow from infancy to being a toddler, our language and personality unfold. The development of a tribal person differs from that of other nationalities. We have ceremonies that have been handed down since time immemorial. Our oral testimonies are taught from birth by our elders who instill in us the importance of our culture and language. We endure rites of passages just as other nationalities. Ours differ as our elders are passing on and taking their knowledge with them. We were taught how to conduct ourselves at home, in the longhouse or shaker church, community and sacred spaces.
For those unfortunate years of historical trauma, a violent disruption damaged many of the Yakama people’s upbringing. The boarding schools, alcohol/drugs, eminent domain, reservation life and enforcement of federal laws has caused irreversible harm to our tribal members in a way that some never find their cultural identity. The dysfunction and poverty of our reservation life have caused some tribal values to deteriorate causing undue misery among our people.
Another form of trauma was the tuberculosis (TB) hospitals where my two cousins were sent as children. They were torn from our káła (grandmother) and placed at the Puyallup TB Hospital. I believe our grandmother suffered by the hands of our government. She was elderly and my cousins were there to help her with water and wood. Grandma ended up at the Goldendale Nursing Home where my mother took me as an infant to meet her. She didn’t believe I could be my mother’s baby as my mother was in her forties when I was born, my father was 51 years old. Her name was Susie Walsey Billy and she passed away there.
During the 1990s, I began to witness the wind farms overtaking our K’Miłpah Bands’ usual and accustomed food (U&A) gathering areas in Bickleton, Goodnoe Hills and Oak Flats, where my late mother and her sisters use to ride horses as young women to gather roots for feast at the Rock Creek Longhouse. I would cover my eyes or sleep through the trips during those decades because it brought tears to my eyes. As time went on, I wanted to teach our daughter to dig in those spaces but could not stand having those wind turbines hovering above us and the whirling sound was quite disturbing. As a result, I no longer dig under those conditions. It makes me feel disconnected from our rightful place to gather.
Still today, our children are forcibly placed in the public school system while having to contend with strict truancy laws, we must justify taking them out of school for cultural activities. These are the most important years of a tribal child’s upbringing. Our children must be out on the cultural landscapes to learn about our cultural lifeways of being a food/medicine gatherer. Our Yakama children are being subjected to bullying within the public school system on the Yakama Reservation as I speak, the devastating result is death by suicide and homicide by gang violence. I can attest to the bullying as our daughter suffered being bullied at Wapato Middle School. She wants to advocate for a K-12 Yakama Tribal School.
It is out on the cultural landscapes during my career as a cultural specialist, I have encountered countless obstacles to being able to hear my own thoughts while on a sacred landscape. I have been in my position for eight years and am still humbled as I set foot where my ancestors once lived their culture. It is an honor to have the lead archaeologist ask if I want to present a song or words prior to any project activity. Then later to have that sense of connectivity rudely disrupted by the chitchat of an archaeologist and/or field technician participating in a survey of a sacred site. The conversation had nothing to do with the work at hand but their personal lives. There are a time and a place for communicating on a personal level.
While monitoring a project on Lalíik (sacred site) there were numerous vehicles and very loud voices of workers up at the MET tower. The archaeologist had no idea who those workers were. I voiced my concerns for the off-road tracks near the project area. Recently while I was leading food gatherers on Lalíik, workers were at the MET tower again, where I had to advise them not to park offroad again. Contractor personnel who work on Hanford are given cultural sensitivity training and some still tend to be disobedient or uncaring.
Yet another form of disruption is the humming of the transmission lines that cross Hanford Site. The hunger of AI and data centers is overarching and going to consume the aquifers and wetland habitat of Nch’í Wána (Columbia River). Energy Northwest is working on four small modular reactors (SMRs) near the Columbia Generating Station. A company, Savion, plans an up to 8,000 acres solar project on the southern end of Hanford. These ‘clean’ energy projects are going to have an adverse effect in the view sheds of our sacred sites (registered/eligible for registration). The sacred sites are critical to our Yakama way of life, pathways and cultural identity.
I work to ensure our cultural resources are protected. But doesn’t that include the elements of a natural surrounding? I must stop at times as I set foot within these sacred spaces and remember that there are spiritual beings all around us. Our late mother once reflected upon a Wáshani (faith) song that says to never forget that Áwtni Tiichám (Mother Earth) is in charge and it makes a sound from deep within to remind us.
I researched the natural sounds on the cultural landscapes it encompasses, here are examples:
- Kákya (Bird)– songs, calls, chirping, warbling, twittering, chorus
- Spílya (Coyote)– howls, yips, barks
- Yáamash (Deer)– bleat (female), barks, coughs, grunt (male), wheeze, whistles
- Wawyúkya (Elk)– bugles (screaming/whistling), chuckle, bark, chirps, news, glunking, raking of antlers
- Tíwali (Insect)– chirps, buzzes, clicks, humming, rattles, trills
- Shíshaash (Porcupine)– crying, grunts, high-pitched whines, shrieks, teeth-chattering, singing
- Núsux (Salmon)– clicks, grunts, chirps, buzzing (vibration of swim bladder or rubbing bones)
Sounds are made during mating rituals, marking territories and warning of danger. Each species has their own voice but rely on cultural resources specialists or tribal monitors to speak on their behalf.
Those spiritual beings are no less important than any of us humans working for a living. Tamanwiła (Creator) put each living being on Áwtni Tiichám (Mother Earth) to have a purpose. If we’re lucky, we find that purpose and answer to it. That purpose is not to be ignored by outside influences which can be chemical, learned behavior, mental health, or vocal.
- Chemicals– Our people suffer from chemical dependency since the introduction by colonizers of ‘fire water’ (alcohol) into our ancestral lands. My niece and countless others have passed away from cirrhosis of the liver. I tried to help her to live a life in recovery. Many are deteriorating mentally and physically from the fentanyl use. Watching your loved one suffer from any disease is difficult beyond words to express the sorrow and pain that family endures.
- Learned behavior– Myánashmaman (children) mimic their role models with unkind words for others, some in a racial context. Children are like sponges who watch every move whether it be healthy or toxic behavior. It is my hope that our children seek out who they truly want to learn good traits to help them in their walk of life.
- Mental Health– People go undiagnosed of mental illnesses not of their own fault but genetics and genocidal actions. Some carry the weight of the world on their shoulders and do not know how to deal with stressors, and some choose to be “any old way” as the elders would stress not to be the latter.
- Vocal– The influence or tone of speech on a person. It could be of a positive nature if you’ve been raised in a loving and nurturing upbringing, education system or denomination. I choose to be a positive influence when I speak for Kákyama (living beings). I use a tone that denotes extreme concern while portraying the effects that a project will have on its overall health and wellbeing. Praise is of utmost importance when a person (no matter what age) conceives they are worthy of it.
I want to share some experiences while monitoring federal project activities. I listen to the rustling of dry balsamroot on the land, and it sounds like a jingle dancer at a powwow. One day, I watched attentively a Walak-Wálak (butterfly), it seemed to pose for me on a plant so I could photograph it. On another day, I was monitoring a project with the endangered species, Umtanum Desert Buckwheat, I chose to help the biologist and get down on my hands and knees to search for the seedlings. When I found one, it was such a memorable experience. This is me connecting with the land in each of those instances no matter the volatile toxicity of the environment.
The rad waste will outlive the next seven generations while billions of dollars are spent to educate the next chemical engineers and specialists who will try to grasp concepts to address the nuclear waste vitrified into glass form and entombed in grout that resides within the ceded ancestral lands of the Yakama Nation. I will also state that natural attenuation is not a solution and extremely problematic for the health of all living beings.
I will share some success stories of the Environmental Restoration/Waste Management program on the cultural landscapes of Hanford. I participated in one full prayer ceremony on a sacred site, Arid Lands Ecology elk hunt (three years), led food gatherings to reconnect with our ceded lands (three years), removal of 23 transmission poles on Lalíik (Sacred Site), removal of solar panels from Nuksháy (Gable Mountain) and the closure of the Vernita campground.
In our Wáshani (longhouse faith), our language is vital in the stewardship of the land. The land is a being itself, it has place names, it speaks to us, and we answer it by way of prayer, song and introduction of our Ichishkíin (dialect) name and our elders’ names. We give thanks to the Creator for the blessings bestowed upon our people regularly, some faithfully in a daily prayer song, and some by speaking up for those cultural resources that cannot speak for themselves and for those yet unborn (R. Jim).
Being Yakama, we are raised to have deep respect for the air, land, and water. We are to tread lightly and be careful out in the wild to not make unnecessary noises, be mindful of the spirits, and only abruptly raise your voice for cautionary or emergent reasons. While the piercing sound of the warning alarms on Hanford are necessary to save lives, I have concerns for the reaction by our Kákyama (living beings) in the environment. It is with a delicate balance of being blessed with our five senses and we must be cautious as to how we speak, how we listen and be in consensus to resolve our differences of opinions.
Our belief is that we are only borrowing Áwtni Tiichám (Mother Earth) from the next generations and we need to live in balance and harmony with nature to not take more than is necessary or exploit the land and its resources. The Yakama seek justice for the sacred landscapes of Hanford Site and long to return there. I advocate for all cultural resources by helping heal the land with prayer songs and speaking our language for our ancestors buried there. There is a sound that resonates within me as I set foot to retrace our ancestors’ footprints, it can only be described as—a whisper of hope to reclaim the natural order of our Yakama Life Pathways.
~Trina D. “Twásɨklay” Sherwood, Cultural Specialist
References: Dr. Russell Jim; Ichishkíin Sínwit by Dr. Virginia Beavert and Sharon Hargas; Wikipedia