The Ethics of Storytelling

I wrote a little bit about the who owns a story.  But I want to talk about the topic in more detail in today.  When stories are originally told, they are intended for the people.  They aren’t intended for outsiders, or an exterior culture.  Like good wine, stories absorb the terroire of the place where they are told.

However, they have incredible value outside of the place where they are told.  To keep with the food analogies - just because gumbo is new-world adaptation of bouillabaisse, doesn’t make it any less delicious and soulful.

There is a big push for Diverse Books in the classroom.  Teachers are looking for things which show a new culture and have a more diverse cast of characters.  Some have turned to books like “The Education of Little Tree,” thinking that it is a good Native biography - not realizing that it was a literary hoax written by a KKK member who had no ties to the Nation at all.  Some have turned to Swanton and other ethnographer’s tales; some turn to modified tales featuring for-profit picture books which claim to be authentic.

And sometimes, storytellers have the best of intentions.  Don’t we all?  Don’t we all believe that stories should be told and shared and bring the world to light?  

It’s infuriating when an audience member attacks us for telling stories, telling our stories our way, and that audience member says that we are telling the wrong stories.  

What can we do?  What should we do?  

Artistic freedom is important; it’s how new stories are born and shared.  It inspires people to adventure and explore and discover.  

The only conclusion that I have come to is that the teller, like the scholar before him or her, needs to be honest about his or her sources.  In the case of First Nation stories, tell where they came from, and who told them initially.  Because the, as the Tlingit culture shows, while a group might be one Nation, they are made of many different cultures, all of whom have their own version of truth, but each story is true.  

Who is J. R. Swanton?

Who is John Reed Swanton?  His name has been connected to several of the tales mentioned in this blog, but who is he?

One of the most prominent folklorist of the twentieth century, John Reed Swanton studied linguistics at Harvard and Columbia, before departing to the Pacific Northwest in 1900.

Working for the Bureau of American Ethnology at the Smithsonian Institution, Swanton collected tales and translated them for the museum.  He lived with the Tlingit and Haida, transcribing their stories and translating them into English.

He worked for the Smithsonian for over 40 years.  In addition to his work with the Tlingit,

Some of his major works include dictionaries, studies of linguistic relationships, collections of native stories, and studies of social organization.

In addition to his work with the Tlingit and Haida people, Swanton did research on the Muskogean-speaking people, the Creek, Chickasaw and Choctaw.  He also worked with the Caddo, and wrote some papers on the Inca.

Swanton was the president of the American Anthropological Association in 1932, and edited the American Anthropologist from 1921-1923.

But he wasn’t Tlingit.  

Can his stories be trusted? Do outsiders really understand what the tales mean, and can they tell them the right way?  
It is impossible to say that his stories are correct; however, the fact that he did make extensive notes on the original tribal location and transcribed them in the original language does give him a strong authenticity that other folklorist do not have.  And, it is also true that without him, many important and beautiful stories would have been lost.  

Recently, a Haida scholar uncovered a previously forgotten story, in the original Haida, when looking through the Swanton notes at the Smithsonian

For further reading on the life and work of John Reed Swanton:

http://www.nasonline.org/publications/biographical-memoirs/memoir-pdfs/swanton-john.pdf

http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/store/10.1525/aa.1959.61.4.02a00120/asset/aa.1959.61.4.02a00120.pdf;jsessionid=EAD991CF6A98FF4F746C4747F6BADCE1.f02t04?v=1&t=ihbfg4ng&s=b32696dbd9ce8787f74633e6da3d67f7411e67fe

http://www.washington.edu/uwpress/search/books/EMMTLI.html

The Salmon Chief

There once was a fisherman, who couldn’t fish for many days.  Walking along the beach, he saw a magnificent salmon.  As he was about to take it home, Salmon spoke up.  He promised the fisherman calm seas if he just threw him back into the ocean.  The man did so, and he prospered.  The next day, the storm picked up again, and the man couldn’t fish.  He walked along the beach again, and this time, he found another salmon.  As he was about to throw this one back in the ocean, it spoke up and demanded that the fisherman talk him home, eat him, and put the bones under the pillow.  The man and his wife, who had no children, ate the salmon and put the bones under their pillow.  They woke up in the middle of the night, and under their pillow was two boys.  The boys grew in strength and honor.  When they came of age, one demanded to go out in the world.  Eventually, the fisherman relented, and the boy traveled out into the world.  He met a grandmother, who offered him a meal.  The ate together, and talked a while until they heard some drumming.  The people of the village were sacrificing the daughter of the chief to a multi-headed monster.  When the villagers left, the boy followed. He fought the monster, who was too slow for the boy’s darting obsidian blade.   After slaying the monster, he wed the chief’s daughter and returned home.

Why is this story significant?  It's not one of the most common of stories. Nor is it considered particularly important. However, the history and speculations behind the story itself is fascinating.

In 1879, Captain Pratt created the first Industrial Indian School; within a few years, children were forcibly removed from their families and into these institutions.  The slogan was to “Kill the Indian to Save the Man.” Three decades later, the noted linguist and anthropologist John R Swanton was fighting against this cultural genocide, attempting to save and collect as many First Nation languages and tales as he could.  

Living with the Haida and Tlingit Nations, John R Swanton learned their languages and recorded their stories.  One of the stories that he picked up was “The Salmon Chief”, a story of a man who was rewarded for his actions by the Salmon Chief with two sons.  And how one of those sons went off to slay a multi-headed monster.  In the Smithsonian publication, Swanton noted that this appeared to be a newer story: there were fewer versions of it.  In addition, the scene where the chief’s daughter was sacrificed to the monster was alien to the Tlingit culture, but closely mimicked the Greek stories of “Perseus and Andromeda” and “Hercules and the Hydra.”  

Was this a new story, told by the first generation of Indian School Survivors?  Swanton didn’t specify.  But I am fascinated by the idea that a story can go back and forth and be shared and valued.  

For additional reading, please look at:

http://sacred-texts.com/nam/nw/tmt/tmt005.htm

Tlingit Tales in Modern Day

Tlingit culture and the Tlingit tales are not historical curiosities - the are the foundation for a vibrant and engaged people.  The Alaska Department of Education has had several initiatives to bring these first nation tales into the school system.  

The Sealaska Heritage Institute’s lecture series has focused on traditional education and its relevance.  David Katzeek, or Kingeisti, the leader of the Eagle Thunderbird Clan of Klukwan, has spent years exploring the impact of traditional teaching, and strongly advocates for its continued teaching.  The two central principles are a spirit of encouragement and a recognition of the needs of the student.  

Ancient clans survived because of their understanding of meterology, liminology, oceanography, medicine - as well as history and mathematics.  Modern clan members succeed because of their tribal teachings.  

The central philosophy behind the Tlingit education system is that all human beings have the ability to listen for a purpose - to focus, comprehend, and continue to contemplate.  By respecting your students and their abilities, they will use their full capabilities.  With respect, students will work harder and understand more.  

“Intelligence is probably one of the most traditional things any human being has,” Kingeisti has said.

The other fundamental pillar of the traditional Tlingit education is the idea of woocheen, or working together.  Through cooperation and collaboration students can develop and grow.

Ishmael Hope and Dimi Macheras recognize the importance of traditional values and modern life in their  beautiful comic, titled “Strong Man.”  This book was part of a state-wide reading initiative, used through Alaskan schools and libraries in 2012.  The Spirit of Reading program is a program funded by the Alaska Association of School Librarians, Alaska State Interlibrary Cooperation Grant and the Institute of Museum and Library Sciences.

Strong Man is the story of Dukt’ootl, who evolves from a bullied teen to a confident young man who achieves great things through hard work.  The comic is intended for young adult readers, and Alaska library officials praised it for its relevance and how it could inspire reluctant readers.  Hope described his intentions as: "I was trying to find a way of providing traditional Tlingit knowledge to modern life and with integrity.  How do you do it, to describe the tests of modern challenges with a traditional framework, and at the same time encourage people to go into the original source."

Another major initiative by the Alaska educational system is the “Moon and Tides” elementary education unit.  This set of lesson plans incorporates traditional stories and STEM education in a way that is interesting for young learners.  Funded by the University of Alaska Sea Grant, this program is intended both for use by Native and non-Native teachers of Native and non-Native students.  In rhythm with the calendar, this educational initiative teaches Tlingit vocabulary, scientific principles, and an understanding of the natural world.  

I think Hope said it best, when he said, "The traditional and the contemporary intersect, making the past and present conversant with each other and hopefully enhancing each other."

To read more about Tlingit Tales in the classroom, please check out:

http://juneauempire.com/stories/120710/loc_746903841.shtml#.VlJWvbRD7zI

http://www.ankn.uaf.edu/curriculum/Tlingit/Salmon/graphics/moonandtides.pdf

http://www.adn.com/article/20120317/strong-man-retells-tlingit-tales-modern-life

And if you want to read the graphic novel, “Strong Man”, you can find it on Amazon at:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0974666823?keywords=strong%20man%20tlingit%20graphic%20novel&qid=1448238061&ref_=sr_1_fkmr0_1&sr=8-1-fkmr0

The Raven Cycle

The most essential, and widely shared tale from the Tlingit nation is  Raven stories.  These stories belong to the Raven clan, but they are some of the few stories which are shared between the clans, and even with the very fortunate outsider.  As an outsider, I cannot tell the tales truly, but I will attempt to summarizes the main themes.   

The Raven, who was a white raven in those days, made the earth. But the earth was a barren place, without light or water.  He had heard of  an old man who had both the sun, and the moon, and all of the stars, who kept them all closed up tight, and hidden away in pouches.  Raven wanted these things for his world.  But how to get them?

Soon, he had a plan.  He knew that the old man had a lovely daughter, who was known to occasionally drink from a particular river.  So, Raven transformed himself into a small speck, and hid inside of the water.  When the daughter drank the water, he went into her, and he planted himself in her womb.  She grew great with child, and when the time came, she gave birth to Raven.  

(As an aside, these stories do pre-date the intrusion of Christianity on the Tlingit people.  So this story is a case of simultaneous evolution, with its elements a  of virgin birth and of a spiritual being who was the son of man)

The baby, Raven, was much beloved by his family.  When he began to cry and couldn’t be consoled, his Grandfather took down the bag of the stars. (In some versions, Raven pointed cried, in others the Grandfather had the idea on his own.)  And Raven played with them, and giggled and laughed, until they flew away.  He lost them; they went out the smoke hole and few into the sky.

Raven was mad!  He cried and cried and couldn’t be consoled.  So his Grandfather gave him the moon.  (In some versions, the Grandfather first stopped up the smoke hole so that it couldn’t fly away.) And the baby played with it and giggled and laughed, until it flew away.  (In some versions, the moon also went up the smoke hole, in others it rolled out the door.)

Raven cried and cried and couldn’t be consoled.  Grandfather reached up and gave him the sun, and Raven flew off with it.  (Now, here is where the tales vary. In some, he takes the sun to play with it but it burns his feathers black.  He dropped the sun and it flew up into the sky.  In other versions of the tale, Raven is boasting to all his friends that he has the sun.  They refuse to believe him, so he opens the box or bag which holds it, and it flies out into the sky)

Now, the world had light and beauty and Raven loved his world.  But when he looked at it, he realized that it needed just something more.  He had heard of water; there was a giant stream of it which was guarded by a jealous and vigilant man, who put a cover over the water and slept by it. How to get water?

Raven had a plan.  He visited the man with the water, and spent the night in his home. Hours before the man would have woken up, Raven was awake.  He went outside, and found the feces of an animal.  He carefully gathered it up, and arranged it by the man who had guarded the water.  When the man woke up, he didn’t realized that Raven had played a trick on him. Instead, he was humiliated the he might have soiled himself before a guest, and he went out to clean himself up.  Raven sprang up, and gathered up all the water that he could in his beak.  Before he was done though, the man came back in.  He realized that Raven had played a trick on him, and he was very angry.  He chased Raven.  (In one version, he chased Raven with a fiery brand, which turned his feathers black)  Raven eventually escaped, but as he flew away, he spilled water.  That spilled water became all the rivers and the lakes, while some of the little droplets that dripped from his beak became salmon streams.  

Some of the central themes of this story are the importance of children in a tribe.  Children were much beloved, and occasionally indulged.  There is also the idea of income disparity, and the story tells of how Raven shared the wealth of the greedy with the world.  

To read more Raven tales which are recorded in a culturally sensitive fashion, please check out:

http://sacred-texts.com/nam/nw/tmt/tmt005.htm

Or listen to some of the amazing stories told by Tlingit storytellers

Who are the Tlingit and the Haida?

Along the coast of Southeast Alaska, from the mouth of what is now known as the Portland Canal to the Chilkat, is the Aani of the sovereign Tlingit and Haida Nations.  The Tlingit and Haida are two separate, distinct people with many cultural similarities.  In modern times, they accept the governance of a joint tribal council.

Both people belong to a matriarchal system; a child receives their family identity through their mother’s clan.  Today, most clans are organized into the Raven and Eagle/Wolf moieties. Each clan is made out of clan houses.  After the 1836 Smallpox Epidemic, the Tlingit population was around 6,000.  Their numbers have rebounded, and now are around 30,000.

Because of the large range of their territory, the Tlingit operated as a confederacy of clans.  Individuals identify first as a member of their family, then clan, and then moiety.  Inside of a clan, families were ranked according to the wealth and morality of their members, as well as their stories and their ancestors.  The oldest male in a family was the head of the family, the head of the highest ranked family was the head of the clan.  He was responsible for settling disputes, deciding on the ownership of hunting and fishing territories, and directing ceremonies.  When the Central Council was established, they originally served primarily as a political activism group.  In recent decades, they have also taken on the responsibility for aiding members of the community who need their support, recognizing their artists and cultural education.

The land is mountainous, and the climate is humid and temperate. Historically the Haida and Tlingit people have worked as mariners, fishermen, hunters, gatherers and traders. In the last century, as trading and wage labor have become more profitable, more of the people have begun to concentrate in villages.

Like many from the Northwest Coast, the Tlingit are known for their Potlach.  The reasons for hosting them vary, respect for the dead was a primary reason.  The Tlingit Potlach is a four-day ceremony, which consists of feasting, storytelling, dancing and singing, and the distribution of wealth. When it was hosted by one group, those who attended were obliged to reciprocate.

So why all this information in a blog about stories?  Because stories cannot be taken away from their people without losing something.  For example, one major theme in Tlingit stories is both income inequality, and the obligation for the prosperous to share their blessings.  This mirrors the morality and wealth which historically determined social structure, as well as the meaning behind a Potlach.  

For additional reading, please check out:

http://www.ccthita.org and http://lucy.ukc.ac.uk/EthnoAtlas/Hmar/Cult_dir/Culture.7875

The Ownership of Tales

Who owns a story?  Does it belong to the teller of the tale, or the listener?

It's a very difficult question, because stories are powerful.  They transform the teller and the listener.

A reader must give himself to the tale.  They must be willing to, to quote Sartre, give “the gift of his whole person, with his passions, prepossessions, his sympathies, his sexual temperament, and his scale of values.” To listen with half an ear, to not not pay attention, is a betrayal of both the tale and the teller.  

Listening with that level of intensity transforms the listener.  It requires the listener to absorb the tale, to integrate it into his or her own values, and to emerge from the other side as a changed individual.  

It is the duty of the teller of the tale to share the tale, revealing the truth of the story and connecting people together.  

All stories are true, especially when they contradict each other.  For example, hunting and fishing stories teach the listener about the seasons, and what is the best time to follow the salmon and when should a person hunt and how they should care for what they have hunted.  Tales about journeys teach the landscape.  Every teller shares the most important aspects of the story to themselves and their listener.  But when a story is taken out of context, they lose some truth.  

While everyone can agree that the ethics of storytelling are important, what is this in a blog called Tales from the Tlingit?

Every Nation has its own rules about stores, every Nation has stories that are sacred and telling them out of context is profane.  This idea might be strange to members of a religion who hand their sacred texts out to strangers on street corners.  But as storytellers, it is our duty to respect the story.

To the Tlingit and Haida, the tales belong to the clan. There were three major phratries, the Yehl (Raven), Goch (Wolf), and Nehadi (Eagle).  After the 1836 Smallpox Epidemic, the Nehadi survivors joined with the Goch, and in modern times they are considered to be the same clan.  Within each phratry, there are clans, and each clan is made up of extended families.  Some stories belong to the family, some to the clan, and some to the phratry as a whole.  

 Some clans will share their tales; the most notable is, of course, the Raven whose cycle of tales describe the creation of the world.  But for most, the tales of their clan are very private, and they belong to the people.

In this blog, we will only focus on the stories which are considered to be public and shared - namely, the Raven Cycle, the Salmon Chief, and a few others.  The primary source for these stories is the turn of the century folklorist J. R. Swanton.


For additional reading, please look at:
Debbie Reese's article about the importance of honest tales in children's literature, which can be found at:  http://www.csun.edu/~bashforth/305_PDF/305_FinalProj/305FP_Race/NativeAmFolktales_Caution_Jan07_LA.pdf
And Daniel Taylor's article on the ethics of the folklorist, which can be found at:
http://www.leaderu.com/marshill/mhr03/story1.html