In 2020, I was asked to be a panel of presenters for the Three River conference. This conference addressed water rights and tribal land sovereignty. I was allowed to provide my perspective as how this topic related to mental health. Below is my transcription from that presentation.
You might be wondering how water rights and treaties are connected to mental health. Great. I’m going to try and show you that connection. But first, let me give you my own background.
In 1954, the Klamath tribes, of which I am a sovereign citizen, was terminated from federal recognition as tribe by an act of congress. In that time, the federal government gained access to controlling 1.8 million acres of tribal land. 1954 As testified to Congress by the Assistant Secretary of the Interior, "It is our belief ... these people have been largely integrated into all phases of the economic and social life of the area ... Their dress is modern, and there remains little vestige of religious or their traditional Indian customs ...". 1954. The tribe was targeted for termination because they appeared to be prospering. A rarity among Native American groups, the Klamaths were financially self-sufficient, being the only tribe in the US to be funding the administrative costs of the Bureau of Indian Affairs through income tax contributions.
1954 – That wasn’t too long ago
We as a tribe always existed but appearance of wellness and a desire to have access to our lands got us federally unrecognized. Since 1954, the money that was paid to tribal members for the rights to lands came and went and my people were without land, identity, or cultural significance. In 1986, we were granted back tribal status after years of fighting and goading the federal government. We were granted a small reservation where the total land area is 308 acres.
308 acres
But since that time of being granted the right to call ourselves sovereign tribal citizens again, we still have no right or access to that 1.8 million acres of land. The original treaty of 1864 stated we were allowed the rights to fish, hunt, trap, and gather from the lands and waters as they have traditionally done for centuries. But the termination of 1954 and reacknowledgement of 1986 have not seen this part of our treaty respected or upheld by the federal government. And even still, the wording of the treaty gives us right to access the land but not hold it as our own.
In 2001, water right disputes became a constant fight for our tribe among farmers and fisherman. You see, the tribes wanted heal the waters to restore salmon and C’waam (sucker fish) while the farmers wanted the rights to use the water for irrigation as well as damming for power.
There has recently, as of this year, been an historic deal reached to remove 4 of the massive dams on the lower Klamath rivers. The Yurok tribal chairman, Joseph James, said it best as he said, “To me, this is who we are, to have a free-flowing river just as those who have come before us. ... Our way of life will thrive with these dams being out.”
The story I tell of my tribe’s fights for land and water rights is similar among many tribal people. And its impacts are vastly seen in tribal people’s mental health.
This is what we call intergenerational trauma. This includes first contact, the treaty era, tribal terminations, and boarding schools/foster care eras. (With many other acts and event scattered throughout this time) Each of these events had specific intentions. The first of which was to separate Native people from their land and it’s complicated to understand to the western world. But in the Native world, land is not a resource or commodity. It is kin. When you separate a native person from land, from water; you separate them from their family. Add to this, you separate them from their tribal ways of eating and ceremony. You strip them of community and culture. And what are you left with?
I’m a mental health counselor to Native people. But before that, I am a Native person. The following facts wound my heart as a counselor but even more so, wound my soul a Native person.
Statistically speaking, Natives have the highest statistics of disparities in just about every category you can think of. We are the highest in male completed suicides, highest is diabetes and heart disease, above average of youth in foster care, high rates of poverty, significantly higher rates of adverse childhood effects, high numbers of alcoholism and drug dependence, high rates of missing and murdered indigenous women, not to mention struggles with depression, anxiety, PTSD; I could go on and on.
These are the effects of not only the loss of sovereignty in our own land but also the results of the boarding school era and consequently the foster care acts which I’ve already previously and briefly mentioned. Each of these topics deserves its own separate time and space to be explored. You may have heard the phrase, “Kill the Indian, save the man.” That comes from the boarding school era in which it was believed that the Native person’s identity must be ratified for them to be saved. You see, the enforcements of separation from family didn’t only pertain to land, but also to our people.
So here we are today. In my tribe’s perspective, fighting since (at minimum) 1864 to be recognized. To be whole. To have access to our healing ways. And each tribe has experienced their own unique story albeit similar in their fight to access land and healing.
But how do we heal?
We go to the water.
Not only are we as Native people looking for healing, so now is the world as we deal with this global pandemic. With the rise of COVID cases we also are seeing the rise of mental health issues including depression and suicidality. So what do we do? Go to the water.
There are so many teachings on the importance of our rivers and water systems. Water carries memories. Water shapes us. Water is our teacher. Water is life
Part of our treatment at CIT, particularly during summer, we take our youth in the mental health program outdoors. We engage in all kinds of different activities like Native sports, drumming, over night camp, and hikes. We always ended doing a hike near water. And if you ever want to see a Native youth come alive, take them to the water. I’ve gone on hikes on mildly cooler days and seen them be unable to avoid diving in. Water heals. I see it in those moments. During these hikes, we sit the kids down and have them listen. Watch. Wait. What does this do? This is mindfulness 101. It allows us to slow our emotional regulation down, to look inward, and to be aware of only this moment. This is a skill useful to treat depression, anxiety, anger, and dissociative symptoms.
Water not only is life, it contains life with our fish and our sacred ceremonies for these fish. These ceremonies bring healing not only to ourselves, but also to our water. We are all connected and related.
The relationship Native people have with water is almost ethereal. And that’s the relationship we seek to restore. Because in restoring that relationship, we also heal ourselves.
I’d like to take a moment and teach you the difference between western ontology and Native ontology. When we think of a family system in a western mindset, we typically think of something like this. Branches in a tree. Descendants down a line.
In the counseling relationship, we strive for what is known as intersubjectivity. This mean that each individual comes into the shared space to create a common goal fostered by empathy that allows for a place of healing. And while I abide by and an in trained in the afore mentioned views of relationality, it does not fully encapsulate the Native worldview.
Mind you, there are over 500 federally recognized tribes, each with their own culture, teachings, and perspectives. But generally speaking, the Native worldview is one of interconnectedness like you are seeing on the screen. There exists not only myself and the other (as previously seen through the intersubjective view) but there is me, the other, land, food, sun, water, ancestors, animal, etc. And they are connected much like a web weaved together. This is all my relations meaning all that exist are my relatives. Remember, we are all kin.
That’s why we can talk about treaty and land rights, food programs, missing murdered indigenous woman, and advocate for mental health all in one breath. Because wellness in one area lends to wellness in all areas.
Now back to water.
Water is medicine. And this medicine is within us.
One of the things handed down to us from the boarding school era, was the learned skill to not cry. To “Indian up.” To be stoic. My grandmother is a survivor of the boarding school era. She told me of punishments the Catholic school would enforce on the children. She said, “They would make you kneel at the top off stairs if you got in trouble. And you’d have to kneel all night long at the top of the stairs. And they would too. Because if they fell asleep, they’d fall down those stairs.”
You learn not to cry. You learn not to cause trouble, so these barbaric punishments aren’t enforced on you too. And in that, we’ve lost our medicine.
I can’t tell you how many Native people I’ve sat with whose eyes start welling up with tears and they quickly wipe them away as they say, “I don’t like to cry.” I ask them why? And they don’t’ have an answer. My response back is always, “Water is medicine. When you cry, you’re releasing your inner medicine to heal wounds that need to be cleaned out.” This is not a weakness. It is, in fact, a great strength.
Our communities, both Native and non-Native, are going through so many great struggles. Sometimes we need our tears to heal. Other times we need our rivers. But without a doubt, it takes a community to ensure ALL our people are doing well.
During this time of pandemic, reach out to one another. Ask how each other how everyone is doing. If you see abnormalities in your relatives, friends, community members; don’t be afraid to ask. And be clear. One of the hardest things to ask someone is if they’re thinking about suicide. It’s awkward and feels bad to ask. I hate it every time I have to do it. But I know I am part of the community of this person who is struggling and if they aren’t well, I’m not well. On the screen now is the National Crisis line. Know your local resources, counseling agencies, and crisis numbers. So that if there is a need, you can do your best to persuade that person to seek help. The struggles we face are real and the answer sometimes is as simple as a question: Do you plan to kill yourself? If the answer is yes, refer to the professionals who can help.
And remember, we still can heal during this pandemic. We hear how everything is being locked down but the rivers run freely. I’ve never spent so much time outdoors near rivers as I have since this pandemic. And there is healing in those waters. Act responsibly outdoors, leave no trace, respect indigenous sovereignty, engage in land recognition, and most importantly, let the waters teach and heal you.
Comments