Note: all original writing (presented here) is copyrighted by the Library of Congress to Mary Magoulick. It may be used only according to copyright law and by permission of the author.
Coming to Life
Native American Cultural Renewal in the Eastern Upper Peninsula of Michigan and in Louise Erdrich's The Antelope Wife
Introduction
We
are all, I suppose, at the most fundamental level what we imagine ourselves to
be.
~
N. Scott Momaday, 1998
Momaday
was talking about Indians, about Native American Indians, that the worst that
can befall us is to go unimagined. And today, we are talking about the
imagination of tribal stories, and the power of tribal stories to heal.
Stories that enlighten and relieve and relive. Stories that create as
they’re being told. And stories that overturn the burdens of our human
existence.
~
Gerald Vizenor, 1993
In
the study of folklore, we look at many manifestations of everyday human
expression, but their shaping is all done by a single force: the interactive
dynamics of living culture.
~
Barre Toelken, 1996
In
a stable society, composing a life is somewhat like throwing a pot or building
a house in a traditional form: the materials are known, the hands move
skillfully in tasks familiar from thousands of performances, the fit of the
completed whole in the common life is understood. . . . Fluidity and
discontinuity are central to the reality in which we live.
~
Mary Catherine Bateson, 1990
A
low wind rides, trembling in the stiff grass, unwinding and slowing my steps.
The gravity tugs harder. Lead instinct. Grave soul. And then I break into a
short run, startled. What if? What if, just as sure as we are pulled toward
earth and destined to go down into it at last, we are also at the same rate
pulled toward heaven?
No
wonder we are stretched top to bottom from both ends of our being. No wonder
the soul can’t decide where to wedge itself.
~Louise Erdrich, 1998 (The Antelope Wife)
Expressions of cultural resurgence among the Ojibwe in the Eastern Upper Peninsula of Michigan resonate with the work of Turtle Mountain Chippewa poet and novelist Louise Erdrich. Both the narratives from the U. P. community where I worked and Erdrich’s novel The Antelope Wife, demonstrate how Native Americans in these communities seek to reconcile identities and make sense of their world during a process of cultural renewal. I offer contextual details drawn from the community where I did fieldwork to deepen textual analysis of both the field-collected narratives and Erdrich’s literary narrative. The narratives reveal that Nishnaabeg today are embracing, enacting, and shaping their identity in positive and meaningful ways. They are coming to life still and again, with good intentions and results, with vibrant artistic expressions, as did their ancestors, as do we all.
As
is true throughout Ojibwe and Native American cultures generally, people in
the Eastern Upper Peninsula (the U. P.) are overcoming centuries of oppression
and attempted assimilation to reclaim their cultural heritage, and to build an
ethnicity that shapes identity effectively, practically, emotionally,
spiritually, and intellectually. Culture is evident here as a dynamic process
that communicates values and worldview, provides resources for living, and
involves elaborate symbol making. This dissertation finds inspiration in and
encourages the intersection of several academic disciplines: folklore,
anthropology, Native American literature, and mythology. Anthropologists and
folklorists of previous generations sometimes lamented that an age of high
technology and global capitalism would result in the demise of
“traditional” cultures. Today, we more often consider culture and
tradition as fluid and dynamic resources which interact with (shaping as much
as being shaped by) the modern world, rather than being overrun or determined
by it.
Cultural
persistence and regeneration reflected in narratives reveal how people ascribe
meaning to their experiences. Narratives play a role in stimulating cultural
growth or renewal while cultural renewal stimulates narratives. Such
reciprocity reveals that neither narratives nor culture remains fixed. Neither
determines the other, since both are processes as creative and mutable as life
itself. The very concepts of culture, identity, tradition, and worldview
emerge through the narratives and discussions of them, as fluid, dynamic, and
ephemeral. Examining the process and results of such reciprocal phenomena will
offer insight into a particular culture and the processes of culture,
worldview, and narratives more generally.
Throughout
the dissertation I present the words of consultants from the field whenever
possible as the center of this ethnography. They provide the voices and
explanations to flesh out “context”– complex systems of
interrelationships – to help understand and appreciate the practice and
discourse of their lives. Scholarship is a process involving dialogue with
previous scholars and their theories. So I use the appropriate scholarship to
help contextualize and frame much of my analysis. But scholars must also find
inspiration in particular, creative, original data. In this case, both
fieldwork and literature provide the heart of the dissertation – as the
symbolic stories of some particular ways of coming to life and ways of
expressing that journey.
Erdrich’s
literary narrative The Antelope Wife symbolizes the processes of life
and culture, illustrating the same process of cultural renewal as was
expressed in the narratives told to me by consultants. As a story of the
origin of contemporary Ojibwe cosmology or worldview, Erdrich’s novel The
Antelope Wife is a story that is mythical in scope, and in fact works as a
myth of the renaissance of Ojibwe culture. It is a richly symbolic, longer,
perhaps more artful, example of the type of cultural expressions that I
collected. I analyze The Antelope Wife according to insights gained
through my fieldwork experience. The field-collected narratives help
illuminate the literary narrative. Overall the dissertation interweaves
folklore and literature to show the richness, impact, and purpose of each in
human life. These various narrative forms enrich each other in dialectical
analysis. Hence my chapters alternate between folk and literary narrative
discussions.
Storytellers
and narratives
Portrait
of the Community
I
conducted interviews with various residents of the Eastern Upper Peninsula of
Michigan during the spring and summer of 1996. These interviews represent the
culmination of two years of fieldwork during which I taught at a tribal
college on a reservation, lived near another reservation in the region, and
took Ojibwe language classes. In the community where I worked I interacted
with many people who helped shape my experience and knowledge of the culture.
Yet most of the specific words and narratives to be analyzed here came from a
small cross section of the community. I taped interviews with seven
individuals (and sometimes some of their family members), ranging in age from
14 to 60. Some were members of the Sault Sainte Marie Tribe of Chippewa
Indians. Other were members of tribes from other regions of the state or
Canada. But all were living and working in the Eastern Upper Peninsula. I
offer brief portraits of these individuals in order to establish a sense of
the community more generally. Pseudonyms are used according to consultant
wishes.
JOHN
CAPPA:
John Cappa is a very dynamic speaker, who needed little to no prompting
during the interview process. He had a clear vision of what he wanted to
communicate, and did so symbolically. John was in his mid-forties at the time
of the interviews. He was the primary narrator from whom I collected discrete
narratives and is from a very traditional background – an Ojibwe reserve in
Canada (Manitoulin Island). John grew up a poor migrant worker in a large
family (the youngest of 14 children). He spoke only Ojibwe until he went to
Catholic school when he was five. He moved to the United States to attend high
school (a member of his family was there). He has traveled and lived in
various places in Michigan and during an army tour also lived overseas. His
Associate’s Degree and special training and certification to teach Ojibwe
language have earned him various positions teaching language, culture and
history around the region. He has also served (mostly informally) as a
spiritual leader in the community. He is a recovering alcoholic. He has two
children from a previous marriage.
LARRY
KING: Larry King, a student at Bay
Mills Community College who lived mostly on the street as an alcoholic for
almost fifty years, found his participation in the tribal college to be truly
life-changing. Larry is from the Traverse City region of Michigan (where there
are several tribal communities of both Ojibwe and Ottawa Native people). He
was 60 years old at the time of our interview. He explains during the
interview how he spent most of his life in White institutions (from boarding
school to reform school to the military to jail). During rehabilitation he
found himself attracted by Native spirituality and committed to being sober.
He was still struggling with the twelve steps of reform when I knew him. He
went to BMCC as part of his rehabilitation process (which was not uncommon).
While there, he lived in the students dorms, did well in classes, worked as a
janitor at he school, and found himself popular
among the students. He was even nominated and ran for student council
president. Larry considers his problems a result of not having anyone who
could care for him when he was young. His parents were out of the picture, so
he lived with his grandparents, who couldn’t handle him when he started
acting up as a young boy. Yet he remembers his grandparents fondly, and
recognizes that they maintained some traditional values. Growing up, he heard
enough Ojibwe language that he now speaks and can understand a little.
LINDA
OBERLE: Linda was forty at the time
of our interview. She was born in Detroit, but her family returned to the U.
P. (Where her parents were from), when she was 11. She was a very successful
student at BMCC and has since gone on to complete a Bachelor’s Degree and is
working on an MSW now. She plans to work as a counselor, and has already spent
years working with Native people dealing with addiction. She herself was an
alcoholic for many years, but has stayed sober and productive for even longer.
She attributes some of her success at sobriety to focusing on her Native
identity. Linda is a member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians,
as is the father of her young son of whom she is very proud. Linda spent 14
years serving in the army, much of that time in Berlin, Germany. She maintains
strong ties with her relatives and friends in the Native community today. She
began focusing on her Native identity relatively recently, but is committed to
raising her son with a sense of his Native heritage.
OGIMAKWE:
Ogimakwe was in her mid-thirties at the time of our interview. She is half
Ojibwe (through her mother). Her father was Italian. She lived on the Bay
Mills reservation, near the tribal college with her 14-year-old son Jake and
her foster son Jimmy (who was about 18). She grew up on Shunk Road, which was
where most Native people lived in Sault Ste. Marie. It is now the site of the
reservation (which the tribe acquired after gaining federal recognition in the
1970’s). Ogimakwe remembers the Shunk Road community as being very strong,
friendly, and poor. Many people had dirt floors, no electricity, and poor
heating. The city put no resources into that area, which was on the outskirts
of town. Unofficially, they had their own church and school (where no one else
wanted to go). She finds it ironic that in the past people resented being
segregated this way, and now the community has built their own charter school
(primarily for Native students), in precisely the same spot. She remembers her
relatives and the community practicing some few aspects of being Native (like
gathering berries, making teas, telling some stories, having a sense of humor,
being a strong community, and occasionally the elders would gather and maybe
speak the language). She became a nurse’s aide and spent many years working
in Detroit. After her father died, she felt drawn to her home, and returned.
During a class she took at the local university (Lake Superior State
University), she met another Native woman who became her spiritual mentor. She
now considers her Native heritage central to her identity and is raising her
son and living her live according to that vision. She attended Bay Mills
Community College, is learning the language, attends powwows, and is an active
member of the community.
SHARON:
Sharon, also in her mid-forties, is
from California, and moved to Michigan in order to attend BMCC. She was an
extremely active student while at BMCC, an energetic leader in the community,
helping organize powwows and many other events. She has an interest in tribal
administration and BMCC was one of the only colleges in the country to offer
such a major. Although Sharon is half non-Native and grew up mostly in the
white world of Northern California, she now considers herself
“all Indian.” She and her husband Bruce (who has some small amount
of Cherokee blood) have focused upon their Native American identity, which has
become a central factor in their lives, evidenced by their time at BMCC, their
careers, vacations, and attitudes. Only one of Sharon’s three children
shares this perspective, though all have the same amount of Indian blood
(their father was part Mayan). Her youngest child, whom she evidently
influenced once she herself found that “good path,” is the one who focuses
on his Native identity, like her. Her uniquely Choctaw/Cherokee identity, as
expressed in her interview, is based partly upon unique elements of the origin
myths she knows of, the trail of tears history, and family visits to Oklahoma
as she grew up. She recognizes little from material culture or oral lore which
is unique to her family and / or which has been maintained by them. Her uncles
knew a few stories; her grandmother was a healer and midwife (though she
couldn’t practice due to alcoholism for much of her life); and there were
occasional festivals or “singings” her family attended in Oklahoma. She
feels the cultural lapse was due to two things, both stemming from the
dominant Anglo culture – oppression (boarding school in her mother’s
case), and alcoholism (which affected her grandmother and her non-Native
father).
TED
HOLAPPA: Ted is active in tribal
leadership in the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe, though he is a member of the
Keewenaw Bay community. Ted is a friend from language classes. He is probably
the most dedicated language student I’ve known in the U. P. He sees it as
his major life goal to learn Ojibwe, because he thinks that is the way to
really know something important about the culture. He is well-educated,
thoughtful and articulate, and has spent time working for Indian rights in
many communities in Michigan and Washington D.C. He has a gentle, good sense
of humor. He works for the Sault Tribe health services in St. Ignace. His
sister’s husband is the traditional tribal healer from Minnesota whom the
Sault Tribe employs to treat Native people. Ted has a daughter (who is in her
twenties), and a recent grandchild. His whole family lives near him, and he is
committed to maintaining strong family ties, which he believes is a central
part of traditional Native life. He often works as the Master of Ceremonies at
powwows and other ceremonies in the region.
WABAGONI:
She is also in her mid-forties, originally from a very traditional Cree family
in Northern Quebec. Her very large family followed trap lines in the winter,
and banded in larger fishing camps in the summer, following a very traditional
pattern. Her father and uncles made snowshoes; her mother and sister made
moccasins. They ate food they hunted and gathered. Her father sold his furs
for the small amount of money they earned each year. When she was eight,
government officials came and required the family to send two of their
children to boarding school in Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Wabagoni and her
younger brother were sent (though her mother and father didn’t want them to
go). Wabagoni resisted the attempts at assimilation while in school, and thus
retained her language (Cree). Most of her family still lives in Northern
Quebec. Because she knows many traditional skills (such as making moccasins
and using herbs for healing), she is valued as a cultural leader in the
community. She worked at Bawating School (the Sault Tribe’s charter school)
as a “cultural advisor.” She is married with two children, though her
family lived downstate in Mount Pleasant, and visited most weekends. Since I
left the Sault, she moved to be with her family, and now works as a legal aide
for the Saginaw Band of Chippewa Indians based in Mount Pleasant. She was
actively trying to learn Ojibwe language during the time I knew her.
This
group of consultants is representative of the larger community in the U. P.,
which includes a diversity of Native people. The Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of
Chippewa Indians has over 8,000 members (not all living in the U. P.). The Bay
Mills Tribe is considerably smaller. Both tribes run casino / resorts which
are very lucrative (generating hundreds of millions of dollars per year for
the Sault Tribe). The money is re-invested and held in trust by the tribe, and
is not distributed to individual tribal members. The Sault Tribe’s casino
and operation are larger, probably because they are located more conveniently
just off a major interstate highway (I-75). Bay Mills is, however, in a more
scenic location, and is trying to capitalize on that (they’ve built their
new casino / resort on part of the reservation with a nice view of Whitefish
Bay).
The
tribes provide health services to all members, including modern health centers
in both communities, dental services, nutritionists, and even a traditional
healer employed by the Sault Tribe. Native people can easily find jobs at the
casinos, hotels, schools, or tribal administration (though most of these are
service-related jobs). Many people send their children to the Bawating Charter
School (any child can attend), which emphasizes a Native-centered curriculum.
There are language and culture camps, senior centers, and the tribal college
located on the Bay Mills Ojibwe reservation just outside of Brimley (25 miles
west of the Sault). Both tribes host a variety of powwow and spiritual
celebrations (usually in June), which are homecoming events for out-of-town
members. Many of the houses on both reservations are relatively newly built
with H.U.D. money (people qualify because of employment opportunities). The
Sault Tribe owns and operates many local businesses in the region (such as
hotels and a neon sign business). Many people have returned to the region and
are refashioning their lives and identities as Native Americans because of all
these positive changes and resultant shifts in attitudes regarding Native
Americans in the region and state.
Narratives
Most
of the interviews I conducted were in narrative format – consultants told me
their life stories. Within these general “life narratives,” some
consultants performed discrete narratives: to be distinguished from more
general narrative forms, as framed, keyed, performed speech events, verbal or
written art. They are stories involving stylized language, characters, and a
sequence of events that communicate a message artistically. They are adapted
to a contemporary audience, as Elaine Jahner affirms as characteristic of
stories: “Fortunately, the stories are not such fragile structures that they
need the aid of scholars and interpreters to maintain their vitality. Their
existence is a protean one, adapting to time and place . . . tales embody
artistic and moral energies that direct the trajectory of change. In the tales
we can perceive the people’s motivations and sources of psychological
renewal, which lead to new ways of living” (1983, 11). Stories, at the
center of this dissertation, remain a powerful source of cultural renewal,
sharing, and understanding.
I
have distinguished three genres of narratives among those I collected:
traditional teaching narratives, affirmative humorous narratives, and personal
experience narratives. Like any categorizations, these are neither absolute
nor completely satisfactory. All the narratives share certain themes,
elements, and structures, yet all are unique to their narrators and
performance events. In many cases the narratives I collected resulted from the
interview situation. Sometimes I heard similar narratives in “natural
contexts” before recording them.[1]
Discrete
Narratives
Generally,
narratives are defined as stories with a patterned sequence of events
including a beginning, middle, and end, and told in particular situations for
particular purposes. Henry Glassie summarizes: “Stories begin and end in
conversations. . . . Stories are narratives artfully ordered to do the serious
work of entertainment, pleasing their listeners in the present, then carrying
them into the future with something to think about. . . . a story is a plot,
surrounded by words, set in a situation, followed by functions” (1982, 39,
40). Considerations and definitions of narrative sometimes inspire intense
debate over the use, meaning, and boundaries of the term.
Many scholars problematize the notion of narrative in terms of its artfulness, social setting, and relation to history. For instance, Paul Ricoeur discusses the implications of the reciprocity between narrativity and temporality (1980). Narrative and time are intricately intermingled, influencing each other continuously, he says, thus calling into question some attitudes about history. When narratives are rendered as texts, they are bounded and removed from their context, rendering them lifeless or limited.
Richard
Bauman summarizes the importance of narratives as situated events and explains
the distinction between literary and anthropologically based notions of
stories and texts: “Literary theorists occasionally look outward from the
texts toward the relationship between narratives and the events they recount,
whereas anthropologists tend to look in the other direction, toward the
relationship between narratives and the events in which they are performed”
(1986, 3). Narration is thus a moment of a “mode of communication . . . like
all human activity, [it] is situated, its form, meaning, and functions rooted
in culturally defined scenes or events – bounded segments of the flow of
behavior and experience that constitute meaningful contexts for action,
interpretation, and evaluation” (1986, 3). Because of its situation as
emergent and in flux, narrative is part of a performance event that should be
understood according to local knowledge, terms, and contexts (Bauman 1986).
The
purpose of narratives is generally understood in a classic sense as “equipment
for living,” as Kenneth Burke suggests of all art: “Art forms like
‘tragedy’ or ‘comedy’ or ‘satire’ would be treated as equipments for
living, that size up situations in various ways and in keeping with
correspondingly various attitudes” (1973, 304). Burke implies an understanding
of narrative as intimately connected to “various attitudes,” which I will
refer to as worldview. Like narratives and time, worldview also shifts and
changes. Such shifts both influence and find representation in narratives. As
culture, tradition, and worldview are dynamic, fluid processes, so are
narratives.
Gerald
Vizenor localizes narrative theory to Native American storytelling: “Native
American Indian stories are told and heard in motion, imagined and read over and
over on a landscape that is never seen at once” (1989, xiii). As “creative
productions,” tribal narratives are always changing, says Vizenor.
Nevertheless, they involve artful, characteristic elements or tropes, such as
the trickster and humor. Vizenor and others recognize the fluidity and
flexibility of form and content as appropriate because of the dynamic nature of
life itself. The meaning of narratives should likewise be considered emergent
and in flux, to be interpreted according to local understanding, based on
explanations, or observation of processes and institutions within the community.
[1]
Since most narrators with whom I worked were acutely aware of the
context of our interview situation – an academic interviewer seeking
understanding of Native culture today – they shaped their narratives
accordingly. Occasionally there is an overt reference to or message for me
and my audience – you. Rather than limiting the interview event's
authenticity, I see this process as a signal of the sophisticated awareness
on the part of my consultants of ethnographic processes. By making overt
their knowledge of and participation in the modern world, they underscore
their identities as complicated and within their control. They are aware of
the significance and complexity of cultural renewal, and their interviews
with me reveal their willingness to not only participate in the process but
to control and understand it.