I have the most incredible childhood memories of summer in Memphis. My daddy, Sherman L. Jones, worked for the Memphis Park Commission, the parks and recreation arm of the city. He was a community center director and, with his colleagues, provided entertainment for all of Memphis. The Memphis Park Commission, now called Memphis Parks, is […]
I live in Memphis. The responses these four words elicit are telling. “That’s where Elvis is from.” “I hear they have good barbeque.” Or even, “I watch The First 48!”[i] inevitably followed by two questions: “Is it really that bad there?” and “How do you live there?” Of course, what runs through my head is, […]
The following work was written on the traditional lands of the Dena’ina people. I live and write on the land of the Dena’ina. I recognize the continued impacts of colonization on Alaska’s Indigenous and Black communities. In solidarity, always. Home I. Mouths come loose, when their hands get in the kitchen. Over hair grease and […]
Before construction started in Tom Lee Park, I sometimes visited the park after a stressful day. I’d sit on a bench positioned on the green lawn overlooking the Mississippi River, close my eyes, and allow the sounds of the fast-moving currents to soothe my anxious thoughts and relax my tense muscles. As calming as the […]
Thoughts on the Connection between Youth, Crime, and Labels I once read a story about a group of young boys knocking on doors in search of work to do in the neighborhood. One lady opened her door and asked the boys why they needed the money. They wanted to buy ice cream from Dollar General, […]
“You aren’t Native enough” is a phrase most Native peoples have heard throughout their lives, regardless of whether they grew up in the city, the reservation, or the village. A lie derived from those whose standards are not our own but who have the most to gain from our disappearance, from those whose only […]
Tamal Communion So, they say: Para todos los males: tamales. For all sadness: tamales. Tata fed me with corn from the Gods that declined to die. Graniceros, callers of rain: we do not pray on our knees, we offer our sweat. Madre Tonantzin accept these tamales! They are the blood and the flesh, spices braided […]
The Tlingit have stewarded the land and ocean known as Tlingit Aaní, also called the Tongass National Rainforest, since time immemorial.
Smoking Hooligan is a fishcamp tradition! Hooligan run in the Stikine River region around mid-April when the migratory birds arrive on the river flats.
I was born in s’áxt’ harvesting season, but my story begins 10,000 years ago in the Southeast Alaskan landscape. Many people know me as the “Devil’s Club Lady.”
Two weeks ago, we went out fishing in our boat for the fall coho salmon run, and my 81-year-old dad caught two cohos. Back at fishcamp, we cleaned and fileted the fish and packaged them up for the freezer.
Even in the winter, we are surrounded by a living world. Underneath the snow, everything is still alive. The sandpipers have migrated, and the berries have dropped on the ground or into our buckets.
Home feels like a unique Midwest conversation. All the “Oh, I suppose I should get going” responses and the ensuing four-hour conversations with old retired cowboys make the small town of Colome feel like home.
El aroma a café me despierta y el sol resplandeciente me arropa mientras paseo por la casa de abuela Aída. Las ansias me llevan hacia una brisa encantadora que me peina el cabello en la cocina donde me reciben unos ojos verdes.
Morning. Hells Canyon, Idaho, and I wake to birdsong. Like most mornings, at least in spring and summer, but this morning, it is crow and quail rather than robin and raven.
We are swimsuits and water balloons and water guns and sprinklers
The summer arrives right on time, for us
Us – we a sight that can’t be missed
Us – we sunkissed, real swift
Koreans have “more gifting occasions, a wider exchange network, and more frequent giving of practical gifts” compared to other countries and cultures. The gifts are shared in efforts to build and strengthen relationships with the circulation of goods.
I first met my fifth great-grandmother at the banks of our great Wakpa Tanka (Mississippi river). I see her amongst the trees, and together we sing about future generations as the sun sets across our Dakota Makoce (Dakota land). You can’t get to know our people and culture without knowing our water and land.
I was trusted to carry this song when I was rekindling the dormant fires of my Indigenous identity. It was a time in my life when the white veil of colonization was being lifted, and the journey inward left me tracing my steps back to the Red Road, a term our Lakota relatives use to define a path of spiritual inclination, a path that lends us strength and renewal
Go-Go got its due moment as Black Washingtonians, the population that established its prominence began to subdue. Go-Go is both the genre and the event, it is a grand expression of Black Washington, and its treatment by the city reflects the treatment of Black Washingtonians.
The following work was written on the traditional lands of the Dena’ina people. I live and write on the land of the Dena’ina. I recognize the continued impacts of colonization on Alaska’s Indigenous and Black communities. In solidarity, always. Home I. Mouths come loose, when their hands get in the kitchen. Over hair grease and […]
“You aren’t Native enough” is a phrase most Native peoples have heard throughout their lives, regardless of whether they grew up in the city, the reservation, or the village. A lie derived from those whose standards are not our own but who have the most to gain from our disappearance, from those whose only […]
Tamal Communion So, they say: Para todos los males: tamales. For all sadness: tamales. Tata fed me with corn from the Gods that declined to die. Graniceros, callers of rain: we do not pray on our knees, we offer our sweat. Madre Tonantzin accept these tamales! They are the blood and the flesh, spices braided […]
The Tlingit have stewarded the land and ocean known as Tlingit Aaní, also called the Tongass National Rainforest, since time immemorial.
Smoking Hooligan is a fishcamp tradition! Hooligan run in the Stikine River region around mid-April when the migratory birds arrive on the river flats.
I was born in s’áxt’ harvesting season, but my story begins 10,000 years ago in the Southeast Alaskan landscape. Many people know me as the “Devil’s Club Lady.”
Two weeks ago, we went out fishing in our boat for the fall coho salmon run, and my 81-year-old dad caught two cohos. Back at fishcamp, we cleaned and fileted the fish and packaged them up for the freezer.
Even in the winter, we are surrounded by a living world. Underneath the snow, everything is still alive. The sandpipers have migrated, and the berries have dropped on the ground or into our buckets.
I have the most incredible childhood memories of summer in Memphis. My daddy, Sherman L. Jones, worked for the Memphis Park Commission, the parks and recreation arm of the city. He was a community center director and, with his colleagues, provided entertainment for all of Memphis. The Memphis Park Commission, now called Memphis Parks, is […]
I live in Memphis. The responses these four words elicit are telling. “That’s where Elvis is from.” “I hear they have good barbeque.” Or even, “I watch The First 48!”[i] inevitably followed by two questions: “Is it really that bad there?” and “How do you live there?” Of course, what runs through my head is, […]
Before construction started in Tom Lee Park, I sometimes visited the park after a stressful day. I’d sit on a bench positioned on the green lawn overlooking the Mississippi River, close my eyes, and allow the sounds of the fast-moving currents to soothe my anxious thoughts and relax my tense muscles. As calming as the […]
Thoughts on the Connection between Youth, Crime, and Labels I once read a story about a group of young boys knocking on doors in search of work to do in the neighborhood. One lady opened her door and asked the boys why they needed the money. They wanted to buy ice cream from Dollar General, […]
We are swimsuits and water balloons and water guns and sprinklers
The summer arrives right on time, for us
Us – we a sight that can’t be missed
Us – we sunkissed, real swift
Home feels like a unique Midwest conversation. All the “Oh, I suppose I should get going” responses and the ensuing four-hour conversations with old retired cowboys make the small town of Colome feel like home.
I first met my fifth great-grandmother at the banks of our great Wakpa Tanka (Mississippi river). I see her amongst the trees, and together we sing about future generations as the sun sets across our Dakota Makoce (Dakota land). You can’t get to know our people and culture without knowing our water and land.
Morning. Hells Canyon, Idaho, and I wake to birdsong. Like most mornings, at least in spring and summer, but this morning, it is crow and quail rather than robin and raven.
El aroma a café me despierta y el sol resplandeciente me arropa mientras paseo por la casa de abuela Aída. Las ansias me llevan hacia una brisa encantadora que me peina el cabello en la cocina donde me reciben unos ojos verdes.
I was trusted to carry this song when I was rekindling the dormant fires of my Indigenous identity. It was a time in my life when the white veil of colonization was being lifted, and the journey inward left me tracing my steps back to the Red Road, a term our Lakota relatives use to define a path of spiritual inclination, a path that lends us strength and renewal
Koreans have “more gifting occasions, a wider exchange network, and more frequent giving of practical gifts” compared to other countries and cultures. The gifts are shared in efforts to build and strengthen relationships with the circulation of goods.
Go-Go got its due moment as Black Washingtonians, the population that established its prominence began to subdue. Go-Go is both the genre and the event, it is a grand expression of Black Washington, and its treatment by the city reflects the treatment of Black Washingtonians.
Home feels like a unique Midwest conversation. All the “Oh, I suppose I should get going” responses and the ensuing four-hour conversations with old retired cowboys make the small town of Colome feel like home.
El aroma a café me despierta y el sol resplandeciente me arropa mientras paseo por la casa de abuela Aída. Las ansias me llevan hacia una brisa encantadora que me peina el cabello en la cocina donde me reciben unos ojos verdes.
We are swimsuits and water balloons and water guns and sprinklers
The summer arrives right on time, for us
Us – we a sight that can’t be missed
Us – we sunkissed, real swift
Koreans have “more gifting occasions, a wider exchange network, and more frequent giving of practical gifts” compared to other countries and cultures. The gifts are shared in efforts to build and strengthen relationships with the circulation of goods.
The opinions contained herein represent the private views of the authors and are not to be construed as official or as reflecting the views, opinions, or policies of SFA, ACTA, and FPF, or the National Endowment for the Arts. Mention of trade names, commercial products, or organizations does not imply endorsement by the US Government. This document was created free of branding or market affiliations. The authors are operating solely as contributors.
The National Folklife Network is a national initiative of the National Endowment for the Arts in cooperation with Southwest Folklife Alliance and in collaboration with Alliance for California Traditional Arts and First Peoples Fund.
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