As promised, I did write a blog post about it. Feel free to read more here: dineaesthetics.com/telling-storie…
a dear friend of mine shared that they heard arguments that Roanhorse “sacrificed the sacredness of our cultural practices to suit her story”, which is highly possible, but also not.
I want to respond to such a criticism, especially considering how we envision what storytelling could be like in the 21st century and what that could mean for many Indigenous youths who want to use personal cultural aspects in their own creative avenues.
For the Diné and many other Indigenous communities, stories are not just stories in the fictional sense. The stories we hear, the stories that are told, are in many ways our own histories and our collective memories.
It is through these shared histories and shared memories that we learn about the values of our community and the ways that culture and language mingle in explaining our universe.
Growing up, I only heard snippets of Diné creation stories. They were not as widely shared with me as compared with others. I remember the ones of Coyote and their influence on the world. I remember the Hero Twins and their mother, Changing Womxn.
I remember these stories being told when the Thunder and Lightning People, Spider People, Bear People, and Snake People were slumbering throughout winter.
It was not until I was in my first year of undergraduate that I read Diné Bahane’: The Navajo Creation Story by Paul G. Zolbord, and later Navaho Legends by Washington Matthews...Both texts were written by non-Diné folx, yet were shared/exploited from Diné medicine people.
In many ways, these transcribed stories are remnants of a violent history and exploitation that many of us may not want to acknowledge because of what that could mean for some of us whose only access to Diné creation stories was through these books.
They should not have been shared with outsiders, yet they are. Non-Diné folx know versions of our creation, but they do not possess the cognitive capacity to understand their intrinsic complexity.
Regardless, we are allowed to have more than one creation stories that are based on our own personal and ancestral experiences. At the core of these stories that are shared with us is a collection of memories that portray the values and teachings that have been given to us.
It is the unfortunate reality that stories lose their malleability and become difficult to change and grow once they are written and recorded.
The gestures, tones, rhythms, and personality of a storyteller are stripped away and replaced with that of the reader’s own (personal bias). Stories reflect the people who tell them, who share them, and who invoke them. Stories are living entities.
Creation stories are meant to be interactive. They are meant to be told over an open flame in the middle of a hogan during the time of the big snow and wind. That is what many of us were told and what many Elders would argue that the Diyin Dine’é told us to do.
The creation stories collected by Matthews, and later Zolbrod have lost a sense of themselves through their transcription. They can be accessed at any time, disrupting the balance we all (hopefully) aspire for.
Yet, these stories offer a unique temporal situation that provides many Diné people access to knowledges that have been regulated by Matthews himself, and later Zolbrod.
The written creation stories share with us the biases of the writer and reader, yet through critical engagement can reveal much to Diné, who are willing to engage with such work thoughtfully and critically while being conscious of oppressive ideologies historically and presently.
TRAIL OF LIGHTNING adds a twist to the traditional form of storytelling and adds depth to the transcribed creation stories. It is a written text that, as far as I know, has not been recorded by a Diné person reading it, but was read and reviewed by Diné cultural practitioners.
Personally, TRAIL OF LIGHTNING challenges us to be critical of those we elevate in status. It is a book that adds depth and humanizes deities within our community; people who existed so long ago, and who continue to live through our memories.
The book renews interest in our creation stories, encouraging curiosity for Diné folx to re-learn the stories told and the language used.
There are cultural imageries used that only those familiar with Diné cosmology understand and can relate to.
There are cultural imageries used that only those familiar with Diné cosmology understand and can relate to.
The main character struggles and conveys the different teachings of the Beauty Way and the Protection Way in ways that are relatable and accessible for those who are wondering who they are and where they might be in this world.
I argue the above because our cultural stories are not static. They are dynamic, they shift, grow and change, as we change and as the world changes. These changes contribute to our collective memories.
The past can inform our present and future, and the present and future can inform the present. There is a cyclical opportunity here when we engage with stories that expand our imaginations.
Creation stories remind us and will continue to remind us of the values and teachings unique to our community.
Storytelling is always going to be a dynamic interactive relationship between those who listen and those who tell. Creation stories are always going to be told in the winter, while our relatives rest.
It does not mean that they are always going to be read during that time though, especially with the existence of two transcribed creation stories book.
There is a delicate balance between sharing our culture with people we trust and protecting our culture from those we do not. There is a history of exploitation and a history of sharing that we as Diné have.
In spite of these histories, these stories of violence, we as Diné need to remember some teachings: dadílzinii jidísin, hane’zhdindzin, k’ézhnidzin, há áhwiinít’į, and many more.
Our teachings are not meant to silence the voice of others, rather they encourage us to reflect and work through times of difficulties. They are embedded throughout our creation stories, our personal stories, and the stories of others.
To the Diné folx who critiqued Rebecca Roanhorse, I encourage all of you to self-reflect on how each of you has sacrificed the sacredness of others and our stories to suit your own aspirations and own framework of the world.
We have a history of acculturation and integration to suit our own ways of knowing and sense of selves.
As discussed with some of my friends @allebasIyehS and @alialane, two Diné womxn, Diné folx are always integrating and evolving with various introductions of thought and...
As discussed with some of my friends @allebasIyehS and @alialane, two Diné womxn, Diné folx are always integrating and evolving with various introductions of thought and...
...technologies, yet always maintaining a sense of who we are as a people. There are stories of how the art of weaving was taught to us by Spider Womxn and the Hopi. Stories of how we became to value sheep brought by Spanish colonizers.
Stories of how medicine people did not always ask for ‘money’ as payment. Yet, these stories reveal to me the innate curiosity and ingenuity of maintaining our livelihoods to the present/future.
