Made a Pillow, Gave it Away
November 19, 2011
I made a pillow the other day. One side has a screen-printed shape of the great state of OKLAHOMA, in state-flag blue.
The other side has Seminole patchwork that my former mother-in-law gave me to use in a project, and so I did.
I gave it to my ex-husband/ the father-of-my-child/ friend for his birthday. He liked it. I’m glad.
Spring
Small Town Talk by Sterlin & Spring
February 14, 2010
My BFF Sterlin and I are both from the tiny, rural town of Holdenville, Oklahoma. And we both now live in the thriving metropolis of Tulsa. The difference is that lately he wants to move back to that small town lifestyle. He is happy in Holdenville; he is inspired there. He has almost 100% fond memories of his life there. But me? The thought of living back there makes me queezy and limp in the knees and hyperventilate a little. I mean I love, love, love some things about the country (see my last post). But, I just want to visit Hville, not live there. I never felt completely comfortable there; some of the discomfort was, to be sure, just the universal awkwardness of growing up. But some of it was an indescribable stifling that I blame on my particular small town experience. Anyway, Sterlin and I got to talking about our different experiences of growing up in small town, OK, and here is what was said:
Me: Okay. We both come from a small town, but you have a much rosier picture of the small town lifestyle than I do. Don’t you?
Sterlin: Yes. We have very different versions of the same place… I think.
Me: What do you mean?
Sterlin: I mean, we both grew up in the same place and knew some of the same people, yet you could let it get sucked into a hole in the ground whereas I would move there tomorrow.
Me: Well, I always felt suffocated by the lack of opportunities and by the lack of diversity. Take religion. I mean, there are absolutely no Jews or Buddhists. There are hardly any Catholics. Pentecostals but everyone makes fun of them. I read about different religions and cultures in magazines, but that was it.
Sterlin: I don’t know… I feel like I had a lot of diversity religiously speaking. My family always held native beliefs and held the traditional ways in high regard. I spent most of my youth at an Indian Baptist Church (more than one, actually), and I was also an altar boy at my Grandma’s Episcopal church when I stayed the night at her house. Lighting candles, carrying crosses, and drinking wine.
Me: Hmmm. I guess my time in a Southern Baptist Church really tarnished my view of the space for freedom of religion. Going to Falls Creek and hearing preachers talk about how abortion was murder and a moral sin then going home where my dad was a doctor and kinda a health nut telling me that, no, an abortion was a medical procedure and a very private ordeal. It was a very conflicted environment for me. Quite uncomfortable, as far as morality, religion, spirituality, and all that goes.
Sterlin: Yeah, but you were also REALLY into religion for a while. I feel like me and my friends always held it at a safe distance… just enough to keep us in check but far enough so that we could do what we want. Yeah, so that reminds me. All the Indian churches go to a different Falls Creek. We called it Indian Falls Creek. But we always wondered what “white Falls Creek” was like. I got my first kiss at Indian falls creek. It was a girl from Weleetka.
Me: You’re the devil. White people didn’t do anything at Falls Creek but worship the Lord. Gaw.
Sterlin: I also had friends that lost their virginity at Indian Falls Creek.
Me: Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh! How did you handle that guilt? The guilt that is like ‘Oh, God is watching me, and I might burn in hell or at least seriously disappoint Him for this action that is really just funny kid stuff’?
Sterlin: Didn’t worry about it too much. It was a badge of honor if you came in late at Falls Creek. Especially if you had a hickey. You were talked about for years. I do remember, though, that it was right when AIDS awareness was huge and I was scared you could get it from kissing.
Me: Do you think, then, that some of your positive small town experiences had something to do with you being Indian, or you being male?
Sterlin: Yes, for sure Indian. I don’t think being male made a big difference though I’m sure you would disagree. I, of course, don’t have the perspective of being a girl growing up there. I mean, on the whole, you have to find people that have your similar interests, which can be hard in a small town. I think I was lucky. I also remember you having a lot of fun there. The Indian thing helped for sure. It’s just a different way of growing up and relating to people. My family was my community. Everyone watched out for each other… entertained each other. It kind of breaks my heart that a lot of that doesn’t exist back home anymore. My cousins are gone all over and elders are dying. It gives me a huge urge to want to be home and to not be a part of that community’s demise… I want to be a part of it’s strength and continuation.
Me: Gotcha. I think you were lucky, too. I remember you always looked so comfortable socially. So free.
Sterlin: I love city living. New York City is one of my favorite places in the world but as I get older I feel like the guy standing on my rooftop looking towards the country. I want chickens. I don’t want to shop at Whole Foods anymore.
Me: Whatever, you love Whole Foods, and you wouldn’t know WTF to do with a chicken!
Sterlin: Yeah, but I’d learn. I would need an internet connection for that, though. And the thing is, my Grandma who raised chickens her whole life is still alive!!! But she lives in Holdenville, and I’d need to be there to learn from her.
Me: So what do you think about raising a 21st century daughter in a small town? Do you think that you would have to pre-emptively prepare or do some padding or work harder to create a positive environment for her? Or to create healthy, sustainable, and fulfilling opportunities for her?
Sterlin: Yes, I think that you would have to work hard to raise a 21st century daughter in a small town but it’s the same in the city.
Me: ‘Cause she’s gonna grow up and leave us someday and become the 1st Native female President of the US, ya know?
Sterlin: Yes.
Me: I’m sure you have a more positive vision of our daughter being in a small town. I tend to think of the problems that could arise like methamphetamines, lack of comprehensive sex-ed, etc.
Sterlin: The thing about having a kid in a small town… or specifically my hometown is that there are things that a parent can never teach a kid. I’ll never be able to teach her what my parents can teach her. I’ll never be able to teach her what her great grandma can teach her. It’s not like they are having lesson time or anything… it’s just that kids can get a lot from their grandparents by just observing them and being around them. I think that’s a very Indian way of community. Not just their grandparents but also their cousins and Aunts and Uncles. I feel like my Aunts and Uncles are second parents. I also think that there’s something educational about growing up in the country. When the shit hits the fan and our whole society breaks down I want to be surrounded by people that know how to manage in the woods. I don’t want to be stuck with lawyers or real estate agents.
Me: I’m with you on that one.
Sterlin: For instance, this past hunting season I butchered my first deer. Now, that’s knowledge that I need to survive. I also recently learned how to start my own blog… and I’m learning how to use my Wacom tablet and draw in layers on Photoshop. The last two don’t amount to a hill of beans compared to butchering a deer.
Me: A hill of beans?
Sterlin: Wouldn’t you agree?
Me: Yes, but I also think that you can learn those survival skills no matter where you are. That’s what’s so fascinating about urban gardening and farming or all these community gardens around Tulsa or building a garden in my very own backyard. Slowly learning these skills, putting in the manual labor and getting paid in food. THAT’S AWESOME! That’s a survival skill that all of us can do no matter where we live. And no matter if our parents and grandparents are still alive or not. Also, you can raise a few chickens in your own backyard in Tulsa. There’s no ban on backyard chickens here. And don’t knock beans.
Sterlin: True. I never trust the soil of the city though. It’s weird, but I worry what’s in it. Just paranoid. I love Tulsa but it does rank pretty low as far as environmental health goes. I guess we just have to plant more trees and make it more like the country… or… I don’t know. I’ll just move to the country. I’m also paranoid about tap water.
Me: Don’t you remember when the tap water in Holdenville was making people sick?
Sterlin: Yeah, but that’s ’cause the city folk came in and made the water filtration system because in their city, they were polluting the rivers with chemicals. It’s the joys of capitalism: cause a problem and then pay people to maintain it… not fix the problem.
Me: Oh. Thanks for the insight.
Sterlin: There are ups and downs of both the city and the country… I just think that the country suits me.
Me: Well, when you find a place in the country, will you report back and let me know how things are going?
Sterlin: Yes, I’ll bring you eggs fresh from my chicken and milk from my cow.
Me: Will you get our daughter a pony?
Sterlin: Of course.
For more musings from filmmaker, writer, dad, and countree-boyee Mr. Sterlin Harjo, you can check out his new blog (!) here.
God, I love music
August 2, 2009
As Kurt Vonnegut once wrote, “If I should ever die, God forbid, let this be my epitaph: ‘The only proof he needed for the existence of God was music.’” I must say I agree. In fact, of all legitimized artforms, music may be my favorite.
And my most recent holy love is the band The Bastard Fairies. This band is made up of Yellow Thunder Woman (who is the hottie in the cover image below) and Robin Davey.
And, I hear you can download their album for FREE! I don’t know this for sure because I just burned it from my manfriend, but someone should try it out and let me know if it truly works. K?
And, in the meantime, check this video:
And, you gotta see this one!:
With a happy heart,
Spring
Local Film Goes to Sundance!
January 12, 2009
Hey y’all. I just wanted everyone to know that Progress on the Prairie contributor Sterlin Harjo will be attending the 2009 Sundance Film Festival because his film BARKING WATER is premiering there! This film is really, really good, and I’m not just saying that because I helped work on it. Sterlin is such a genuine and natural story-teller. Having known Sterlin and his writing for over 15 years, I am so proud of how he has used his talent to tell simple stories. Like Pete Seeger said of Woody Guthrie: “Any damn fool can get complicated. It takes genius to attain simplicity.”
You can see more about this film at barkingwaterfilm.com, and you can read an article about Sterlin in the Sunday Tulsa World. And just for fun here’s a picture of me working super, duper hard on the set of BARKING WATER in March 2008! 
Artist Rose B. Simpson
December 16, 2008
An update/addition to Letter from the Spirit World:
A LETTER FROM THE SPIRIT WORLD by STERLIN HARJO
November 21, 2008
Foreigners have a funny idea of what an Indian is. You can’t blame them though… it’s really the fault of Americans. According to our popular culture, since the beginning of Indians in books and movies, Indians are supposed to be able to do things like: see into the future, disappear, talk to animals, expel ghosts, protect the earth, etc. I do all of these, but it’s still annoying to be expected to do these things. Think of the portrayal of medicine men and women in film… they are always crazed, mystic, and other worldy like they live in some parallel spirit world with only animal spirits to talk to. Medicine men are real, and I assure you that they wear blue-jeans like the rest of us.
I was in New Zealand showing one of my films when a white man in the audience asked me about a particular scene where the main character (Indian) gets punched by a big white guy. The Indian gets punched because he grabs the white guy’s girlfriend’s ass. Most people would punch someone for grabbing their significant other’s ass, right? The bar is filled with both Indians and white people in the film, and for me, it was never about race. The man in the audience in New Zealand said, “Is that how it really is where you’re from? Is there a lot of tension between the Native Americans and the Paleface?” And what cracks me up about this is that he assumed by using the word “paleface” to describe white people he was somehow speaking my language. Like, I would just keep it rolling, “Well, the palefaces don’t like it when the Indian grab the ass of their women, you see, cause there is a long history of the paleface women wondering across into the reservation…” Though, I have to say, I love it. I’m gonna bring that word back. Paleface. That word has been extinct for a long time until this guy said it in New Zealand. It wasn’t even in Dances with Wolves. But, the world has been fed this image of what an Indian is.
The same is true for “Native American Art”. When anyone thinks of Indian Art the first thing that pops up is the usual buffalo floating in the clouds, people floating into the spirit world. I want to go to the spirit world. If they sell tickets I’ll buy one. I walk down the street in Tulsa, a town founded by Creeks and there is no evidence of this, and if there is it’s an image of the past, a painting of an old style Lakota taking a journey to the spirit world, or the famous image of a sad horseman representing the Trail of tears. As if there aren’t enough reminders that the road to Oklahoma was paved with blood and tears. I want to tell that Indian up there on the horse, “Hey, hold your head up, guy. We made it. We’re here. Let’s paint the town red. I bet your horse is thirsty. ‘Come down off that cross, we can use the wood’.” Cause I guarantee you that Indian up there is tired of his head hanging down. Bet there’s a crick in his neck… I know there’s one in mine. But, there are great contemporary artists out there. So, Natives and Palefaces and everyone else, check these artists out: New Mexican artist Rose B. Simpson, “Ode to my Nosering”
Pawhuska artist Ryan Red Corn, “Wazhashi-pod”
and Micah Wesley, Bunky Echo-Hawk, Chris Pappan, just to name a few.
And back a few decades, there was T.C. Cannon,
It never really bothered me until I got older. There were about four years where I just wanted to fit in and didn’t think of issues as this, but after having a daughter and enjoying small successes here and there with my career as a “Native American Filmmaker” I found myself thinking about it more and more. I was once told by a shawl-wearing white lady in Boulder, CO that she was of the “Wasi’chu” people. She said it like it was a tribe. It means “white person” in Lakota, and if you’ve even seen the first half of Dances With Wolves you are familiar with the word. I’m not Lakota. I’m Creek/Seminole, but the lady acted as if I should just roll with it. “Oh, the Wasi’chu people… I love your cheeseburgers.”
I think if I have one thing going on in my work its trying to kill this idea that Indians are mystical, Bigfoot, creatures from Middle Earth. Don’t get me wrong, Indians aren’t only being put upon by society, we are guilty for pushing the idea of Indian as mystic just as much as the next person. There’s a word for it when an Indian is doing it- it’s called being “Chiefy”. But, fuck, being mystical pays. I saw a guy in Santa Fe at Indian Market a couple of years ago dressed to the chin in buckskin playing the flute for old white ladies in the lobby of a hotel. Bet he got paid good.
There is a holy, spiritual, magical, side to being in the Native world of ceremonies and other things in that arena that most of us are told not to talk about from the time we’re young (So I won’t)… But, this is a world that is kept hidden and quiet. No matter how many scripts Kevin Costner writes he won’t come close to the truth…maybe it’s too simple for him.
