Watching dancers move on tiptoe and tap to rhythms from Africa to Brazil, on the outdoor stage of Jacob’s Pillow, located in the beautiful Berkshires, is magical.
I’ve attended six different performances this summer, all having one thing in common. Before the dancers appear, the emcee takes a moment to acknowledge the roots of the land spread out before us. Land acknowledgments are reminders of the Native tribes whose presence graced this country before settlers drove them out.
A variety of events increasingly preface their programs with land acknowledgments, ostensibly to remind us that we are viewing a performance taking place on stolen land. Unfortunately, once the acknowledgement ends, so does our focus on what we’ve just heard.
I find myself increasingly frustrated by this ritual. Though the intention of inviting an audience to reflect on the history of the land we occupy has value, a statement that does not go beyond an acknowledgment feels empty. The repetition of tribal names focuses on the past, denying the reality that, despite efforts to erase them, Native populations are still here, while non-Natives continue to occupy stolen land.
An acquaintance recounted for me the words of Hadley artist and powwow singer, Justin Beatty, “Land acknowledgments are a thing right now, but it’s like saying, ‘I stole your water bottle, and I acknowledge that I stole your water bottle, but I’m still not going to give your water bottle back.’”
So, what’s the point? Native artist Gregg Deal challenges us, “If you leave here and decide to do nothing then you are complicit with those who came before you. … So what are you going to do with this information?” (TedX Talks June 26, 2018)
Several years ago I was charged with providing a land acknowledgment for a local program I had helped organize. Prior to the event, I Googled the names of the tribes who inhabited our region for a one minute acknowledgment. It was an empty act born of ignorance, a missed opportunity to transmit a meaningful message.
A few months ago, I received an email from David Detmold, coordinator of ChangeMassFlag.com. David has been on a mission to get rid of the Massachusetts state flag, “the last official flag of white supremacy flying in the U.S.” The flag displays a caricature of a Native person holding a bow in one hand and an arrow pointed downward in the other. Over his head, an arm brandishes a sword. The translation for the flag’s Latin motto: “By the sword we seek peace.”
Since 1629, every government building, courtroom, and public school is legally required to display this Puritan-era symbol of white supremacy. After 38 years of lobbying efforts, including 54 cities and towns voting since 2018 to change the flag, on Jan. 6, 2021, the Massachusetts Legislature agreed to appoint a commission to study and recommend a new design. The commission hopes to introduce the new design by March 2023, but there is no guarantee the Legislature will accept it.
That’s why Detmold asked me, as an Easthampton resident, to advocate for a City Council resolution demanding that the Legislature change the flag. It was an easy ask, as well as an opportunity to move beyond my shallow land acknowledgment and take action.
Easthampton residents can show up at the City Council meeting on Wednesday, Sept. 7, at 6 p.m. to actively show their support for a flag that honors, instead of denigrates, our Native ancestors. Native people make up less than 1% of the Massachusetts population, limiting their political influence. In Detmold’s words, “Non-Native allies are needed to demand something positive, not a remembrance of past genocide.”
Easthampton, along with Amherst, Holyoke and Northampton, and 16 other towns have replaced Columbus Day with Indigenous Peoples Day. Not so Massachusetts. Although the Joint Committee on State Administration and Regulatory Oversight reported the bill favorably for the first time in its history, the Legislature didn’t vote on the bill before the deadline, leaving in place a holiday celebrating the myth that a man responsible for murder, rape, torture, and enslavement discovered America.
The bill will be reintroduced next year and stands a good chance of passing, but only if enough people contact the governor, Senate president, and House speaker. Tell your representatives to cosponsor the bill.
“Land acknowledgments reflect awareness of history and of injustice, which is a start. Recognizing an unjust history is important but does not necessarily require action. Recognizing an unjust present, on the other hand, creates a moral obligation to act for justice and equity.” (Environment, July/August 2021)
Sara Weinberger of Easthampton is a professor emerita of social work and writes a monthly column. She can be reached at columnists@gazettenet.com.