"What a gigantic, soulless mistake we are making. If we don’t figure out a way to ritualize this catastrophe, we will bear that burden of sorrow in unhealthy ways for generations." I feel this way, too, every day, the wrongness of it, the brokenness.
This approach to land acknowledgement you've described sounds powerful! Thanks for sharing that, I feel like it could be work taken on individually, as well.
I'm new here. I am very grateful for this post. I participated in my first land acknowledgement last year, and while it was profound for me, I did wish it had a bit more...something. This idea of inviting the ancestors is perfect. Also: mourning. My mother died suddenly when I was 24, and I continue to recall how I wished I could wear mourning clothes. I was so miserable for so long -- it would have been a signal that maybe people could be a bit more tender with me.
The Johnston quote, and your reaction about why you could never be an atheist: I think this is why I connected with you from the start. Because we share this belief system. Our backgrounds couldn't be more different, but this thread that connects and binds us can't be broken. We are all stewards if we only open our hearts and senses to the wonderment of how gifted each of us is to be here.
Thank you for the information about Zenju Earthlyn.
I agree with the anger you feel about the useless, or souless arrogant mouthing about past atrocities and no attempts to correct them. As far as honoring those we mourn, I personally need a way to deal with lingering, sometimes overwhelming fury with the deceased for wrongs perpetrated and never acknowledged. The rituals I am familiar with do not address this need. Always we hear how wonderful the passed person was and is resting in a better place. How do we honor those ancestors who participated in those atrocities?
Finding peace is the only way to deal with it, lest we shred our own flesh in fury and despair.
I do find peace, often at sunset, when I contemplate the magnificence of our personal star, the beauty of how my very substance and that of my children and my pet and the trees and plants around me originated in stars and the vastness of the cosmos. (Shout out to Carl Sagan here.)
I love the poem by Dogo Graham! What a heartening image of friendship and sharing it conjures!
I feel similarly about the way we often grieve. Often, there is such a feeling of emptiness after a funeral service. It is great when mourners have an opportunity to share stories about the deceased. It is, in my experience, a comfort to all, and a means to honor the loved one lost.
I've been chewing and mulling about land acknowledgements recently too. One thing -- some of them seem to be structured like "previous owner" acknowledgements, which is still a weirdly colonialist way to think about it. I've been trying to imagine how to acknowledge the land itself as a layered presence in the room.
The invite the ancestors approach is a really powerful thought experiment.
I’m really interested in this discussion, as acknowledging ancestors is a very common part of rituals here in Moana-nui-a-Kiwa (the South Pacific), in fact I’m struggling to think of one where they wouldn’t be.
Chris, (and others), you might be interested in the Māori ritual here in New Zealand called pōwhiri. This is traditionally used when welcoming visitors onto a marae (the home base for a particular Māori tribe or family group), but these days it is common to see it incorporated in lots of situations where a group of visitors are being welcomed. During a pōwhiri, there is a lot of acknowledgment of ancestors, both as a way of reminding us all of the legacy we carry, but also as a way of linking people now and reminding us that whilst our physical form is only here for a little bit, the impact we can have lingers longer. There is also acknowledgment of the land and what it offers us, and thanks to the land for that. At the end everyone will hongi, where people press their noses together in order to exchange the same breath, and then everyone goes to have a drink and some food together - this last part is actually not just a nice thing, it’s a non-negotiable aspect of the whole ritual as it shows we are all now the same group rather than being hosts and strangers.
I am cynical about so much these days (including land acknowledgements, in the same way as you were) and I love the moments when I have the experience of seeing something in a new and more positive light. Thank you for reminding me to stay open-minded and to see the opportunity in everything rather than being constantly defeated by my cynicism.
Feb 17, 2022·edited Feb 17, 2022Liked by Chris La Tray
I love so much about all of this and needed to read it today--thank you for all of it. I think a lot about the trend of land acknowledgement and how/if it can really function as a form of healing and how often it feels like another token for liberal white people to make ourselves feel virtuous (yuck) and avoid action--but I'm with you in that idea of invocation, how important to invite the ancestors and be good ancestors in the making--it's so powerful and necessary, to keep that awareness with us. Including the place, the land. And the poem--how perfectly it encapsulates the connection of writing and story. So beautiful what words can do.
Thank you for your view on the land acknowledgement thing; I’ve also struggled with whether I find it just vaguely pleasant / basically useless or actually meaningful. I’m not indigenous to anywhere though, so generally I shush when people perform it.
Yet, as an American living in Australia, I’ve had a whole heap of indigenous folks tell me that it actually is meaningful to them, which I think is much more important than whether I find it useful. And while the Acknowledgement of Country (the greeting done by people who aren’t traditional owners) here can be pretty cringey and forced, I’ve also found some to be very welcoming and respectful, as in the comments about how it’s done in New Zealand. Even better, when a Welcome to Country (the greeting done by traditional owners) is done by people who’s land you are on, it can be absolutely beautiful, even involving hours-long ceremonies for an important event. The idea here also seems to be much more aligned with what you’re exploring, in that it’s an acknowledgement of the traditional owners of the land, but also of their ancestors and of descendants to come.
But while I’m rambling about Australia, we also have this thing called National Sorry Day, which just, ugh. Ugh to whoever named the the day, and double ugh to whoever thought just instituting a Day of Sorry would qualify as reconciliation or action or actually addressing anything that colonization and genocide have done and continue to do to this country. And yet, I’ve had a whole heap of indigenous folks tell me that National Sorry Day is important to them and is at least a start to addressing our shared history. So I think I’ve accepted that acknowledging the land, and the first people to live here, and the fact that the past did indeed happen and indeed was truly horrific, is at least a start. It just can’t stop there.
Also thank you for being irritable. I am as well, and while I can’t actually recall how I stumbled across your grumpiness, I’m very glad I did as it truly inspires me!
Thanks for your critique of land acknowledgments (also read your 2020 post on this). It open my eyes, and deepened my thinking. I run in circles where land acknowledgements are common - central Vermont, Western Abenaki land - I’ve opened Zoom talks with them. (Damn my progressive liberal blinders.) Anyway, I appreciate your sharing about Manuel’s reimagining of land acknowledgments as becoming a ritual and practice of creating a different kind of space/time.
One thing I'm grateful about my Catholic upbringing, is that we mourn well together. I grew up in a cancer cluster, and we lost children, and mothers, which is a powerful if unfortunate bonding experience. Now, as our parents generation passes, we all fly home. We show up at St. Mary's. We gather the night before in family groups, and after Mass at one of the country clubs, which are useful for these purposes. It's part reunion, part sorrow, and all the old stories get dusted off. There's tears and laughing and a few drinks (and the last one, when a big snowstorm blew in during Mass, many frenzied "children" in our 50s and 60s trying to keep our indomitable elderly mothers dry and warm and unbroken until we could get them out the back door and into a car).
"What a gigantic, soulless mistake we are making. If we don’t figure out a way to ritualize this catastrophe, we will bear that burden of sorrow in unhealthy ways for generations." I feel this way, too, every day, the wrongness of it, the brokenness.
Love this so much. You always make me cry. ❤️❣️📿🙏🏾
Zenju's iteration on the usual land acknowledgement is absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing that.
This approach to land acknowledgement you've described sounds powerful! Thanks for sharing that, I feel like it could be work taken on individually, as well.
I'm new here. I am very grateful for this post. I participated in my first land acknowledgement last year, and while it was profound for me, I did wish it had a bit more...something. This idea of inviting the ancestors is perfect. Also: mourning. My mother died suddenly when I was 24, and I continue to recall how I wished I could wear mourning clothes. I was so miserable for so long -- it would have been a signal that maybe people could be a bit more tender with me.
The Johnston quote, and your reaction about why you could never be an atheist: I think this is why I connected with you from the start. Because we share this belief system. Our backgrounds couldn't be more different, but this thread that connects and binds us can't be broken. We are all stewards if we only open our hearts and senses to the wonderment of how gifted each of us is to be here.
Thank you for the information about Zenju Earthlyn.
I agree with the anger you feel about the useless, or souless arrogant mouthing about past atrocities and no attempts to correct them. As far as honoring those we mourn, I personally need a way to deal with lingering, sometimes overwhelming fury with the deceased for wrongs perpetrated and never acknowledged. The rituals I am familiar with do not address this need. Always we hear how wonderful the passed person was and is resting in a better place. How do we honor those ancestors who participated in those atrocities?
Finding peace is the only way to deal with it, lest we shred our own flesh in fury and despair.
I do find peace, often at sunset, when I contemplate the magnificence of our personal star, the beauty of how my very substance and that of my children and my pet and the trees and plants around me originated in stars and the vastness of the cosmos. (Shout out to Carl Sagan here.)
Oh Chris,
I love the poem by Dogo Graham! What a heartening image of friendship and sharing it conjures!
I feel similarly about the way we often grieve. Often, there is such a feeling of emptiness after a funeral service. It is great when mourners have an opportunity to share stories about the deceased. It is, in my experience, a comfort to all, and a means to honor the loved one lost.
Sincerely,
Melissa
I've been chewing and mulling about land acknowledgements recently too. One thing -- some of them seem to be structured like "previous owner" acknowledgements, which is still a weirdly colonialist way to think about it. I've been trying to imagine how to acknowledge the land itself as a layered presence in the room.
The invite the ancestors approach is a really powerful thought experiment.
I’m really interested in this discussion, as acknowledging ancestors is a very common part of rituals here in Moana-nui-a-Kiwa (the South Pacific), in fact I’m struggling to think of one where they wouldn’t be.
Chris, (and others), you might be interested in the Māori ritual here in New Zealand called pōwhiri. This is traditionally used when welcoming visitors onto a marae (the home base for a particular Māori tribe or family group), but these days it is common to see it incorporated in lots of situations where a group of visitors are being welcomed. During a pōwhiri, there is a lot of acknowledgment of ancestors, both as a way of reminding us all of the legacy we carry, but also as a way of linking people now and reminding us that whilst our physical form is only here for a little bit, the impact we can have lingers longer. There is also acknowledgment of the land and what it offers us, and thanks to the land for that. At the end everyone will hongi, where people press their noses together in order to exchange the same breath, and then everyone goes to have a drink and some food together - this last part is actually not just a nice thing, it’s a non-negotiable aspect of the whole ritual as it shows we are all now the same group rather than being hosts and strangers.
Here’s a small run down:
https://www.otago.ac.nz/maori/world/tikanga/powhiri/
(Also to say a pōwhiri is a deeply layered ritual that I am not describing in full here!)
I am cynical about so much these days (including land acknowledgements, in the same way as you were) and I love the moments when I have the experience of seeing something in a new and more positive light. Thank you for reminding me to stay open-minded and to see the opportunity in everything rather than being constantly defeated by my cynicism.
I love so much about all of this and needed to read it today--thank you for all of it. I think a lot about the trend of land acknowledgement and how/if it can really function as a form of healing and how often it feels like another token for liberal white people to make ourselves feel virtuous (yuck) and avoid action--but I'm with you in that idea of invocation, how important to invite the ancestors and be good ancestors in the making--it's so powerful and necessary, to keep that awareness with us. Including the place, the land. And the poem--how perfectly it encapsulates the connection of writing and story. So beautiful what words can do.
Thank you for your view on the land acknowledgement thing; I’ve also struggled with whether I find it just vaguely pleasant / basically useless or actually meaningful. I’m not indigenous to anywhere though, so generally I shush when people perform it.
Yet, as an American living in Australia, I’ve had a whole heap of indigenous folks tell me that it actually is meaningful to them, which I think is much more important than whether I find it useful. And while the Acknowledgement of Country (the greeting done by people who aren’t traditional owners) here can be pretty cringey and forced, I’ve also found some to be very welcoming and respectful, as in the comments about how it’s done in New Zealand. Even better, when a Welcome to Country (the greeting done by traditional owners) is done by people who’s land you are on, it can be absolutely beautiful, even involving hours-long ceremonies for an important event. The idea here also seems to be much more aligned with what you’re exploring, in that it’s an acknowledgement of the traditional owners of the land, but also of their ancestors and of descendants to come.
But while I’m rambling about Australia, we also have this thing called National Sorry Day, which just, ugh. Ugh to whoever named the the day, and double ugh to whoever thought just instituting a Day of Sorry would qualify as reconciliation or action or actually addressing anything that colonization and genocide have done and continue to do to this country. And yet, I’ve had a whole heap of indigenous folks tell me that National Sorry Day is important to them and is at least a start to addressing our shared history. So I think I’ve accepted that acknowledging the land, and the first people to live here, and the fact that the past did indeed happen and indeed was truly horrific, is at least a start. It just can’t stop there.
Also thank you for being irritable. I am as well, and while I can’t actually recall how I stumbled across your grumpiness, I’m very glad I did as it truly inspires me!
Thanks for your critique of land acknowledgments (also read your 2020 post on this). It open my eyes, and deepened my thinking. I run in circles where land acknowledgements are common - central Vermont, Western Abenaki land - I’ve opened Zoom talks with them. (Damn my progressive liberal blinders.) Anyway, I appreciate your sharing about Manuel’s reimagining of land acknowledgments as becoming a ritual and practice of creating a different kind of space/time.
One thing I'm grateful about my Catholic upbringing, is that we mourn well together. I grew up in a cancer cluster, and we lost children, and mothers, which is a powerful if unfortunate bonding experience. Now, as our parents generation passes, we all fly home. We show up at St. Mary's. We gather the night before in family groups, and after Mass at one of the country clubs, which are useful for these purposes. It's part reunion, part sorrow, and all the old stories get dusted off. There's tears and laughing and a few drinks (and the last one, when a big snowstorm blew in during Mass, many frenzied "children" in our 50s and 60s trying to keep our indomitable elderly mothers dry and warm and unbroken until we could get them out the back door and into a car).
Thank you for introducing me to Manuel and Johnston, I just purchased books by them.