A (70:16)
Like, one of the customs when we have nine children. So whenever a new baby was on the way, we have, like, an Ojibwe cultural birthing go bag. So we harvest a medicine, we bring it with us right into the hospital, get hot water out of the tea dispenser, steep the medicine, strain it, and we use that for the baby's first bath. Oh, wow. And then we take the placenta and afterbirth home, and we bury it on the north side of a maple tree with an offering. And the maple is considered symbolically like tree of life. So we put their placentas there, and it's, you know, kind of a wish for a long, healthy, happy life for the baby. Now we also spend a lot of our time harvesting. Sometimes it's hard for people to figure me out because, you know, I'm sitting here in Brooklyn and I'm wearing decent clothes, and I. I'm a world traveler, and my English is right, you know. But I also speak Ojibwe, and I choose to live in my native community. And I spend about a third of my time officiating at ceremonies, from naming ceremonies to traditional funerals and everything in between. All that work's uncompens and in the traditions of our people. Spend about a third of my time doing my actual job, which is I'm a professor of the Ojibwe language. I teach Ojibwe language, culture, history, write books, spend about a third of my time doing public speaking, diversity, equity, inclusion, things like that. They're like three Strands of a braid, they all feed one another. But in the spring, when we harvest maple syrup or maple SAP every year and cook it down into syrup and sugar. And this is something I've done every year of my life. My mom did every year of her life. Her family, like, back through the generations. But when we go out into the maple forest, I've got all of the kids. We have nine kids. We have four grandkids now, and they're making offerings by the tree of life where their placentas are buried. And we have, like, sometimes five generations in our family there. So I feel connected across the generations to our culture and our practice, to this particular part of the woods. And my kids love doing this. And when I'm gone, I'm certain they'll be doing that, you know, and that's just a very basic practice. That's not like the religious ceremony, but it's still very spiritual. There's much more to all the other kinds of things that we do. And it's a very rich culture, so there's no way to give you everything, you know, in one sitting. But to give an idea of a couple other things that we might do, we also spend a lot of our time hunting. And so the ancient custom when someone harvested their first deer when we're living in Wigwam villages, would be to invite the whole village, cook the whole deer, and it gets eaten in one fell swoop. Now, today, we live kind of like everyone else. So, you know, by the way, the rez is not a horrible place. Come sit in my hot tub, you know. However, we will invite over extended family, so aunts, uncles, grandparents, members of the community, fill the house up with people. We cook up some of the deer, and there's a prayer. And then instead of just eating, we kind of ritually feed the successful hunter. We'll take a spoon of the food. We'll say their native names. So one of my kids, his name's Beijagobenes, means lone thunderbird. And he has to refuse the first bite and say, no. I'm thinking about children who don't have enough to eat. Ah, okay, put it back. Get another spoonful. And he refuses again and says no. I'm thinking about my elders who can't get out in the woods to hunt for themselves. Hmm. Okay, put it back. Another spoonful. Beija gobines. And he refuses a third time, and he says, no. I'm thinking of my family and my community and the people who came here today to support me. Huh? Okay, put it back. Beija go b'nais and then he can eat. And then we'll say, well, beja go bines. You just changed your life because up until today you were what we call the dependent. You depended on all the people in this room to provide all of your food. And there they are, aunts, uncles, grandparents, parents. Today though, you're providing for all of us. And this is what it means to be an adult. From today on, you'll have a special power. It's just the power to gather resources. You'll have it when you go hunting, when you go fishing, even when you get a job. So when you use your power, you think about kids who don't have enough and elders who can't get it for themselves and your community and your family. And then they take the rest of their kill packaged up venison and they give it away. So they're impoverished but rich. And since I have nine kids and get to do a lot of experimenting on them, I have to say that this ceremony has been very formative. So like, my son would maybe get a rabbit and right away he'd pick up the phone and he'd call my mom, no ko Noko Wabu's in Dayawa, and she'd say, ooh, no ze Shay, I'm going to cook for you tonight. Bring that rabbit over here. And I'm thinking, here goes the, you know, intergenerational transmission of caring, sharing and caretaking. And I didn't even have to say, go bring that over to your grandma, you know. And what I found is that those cultural practices, they reflect our values as a people, collective, communal, collaborative and so forth. But they shape our values as a people. And so much of the Western world is shaping us. To think about me and mine, our individualism, up by your own bootstraps. Hard work, determination, entrepreneurial spirit, drive, ambition. Put some plaques on the wall, make something of yourself. You meet someone new and it's like, what do you do? As if productivity equals self worth. You know, we're so competitive, we're so materialistic. And I think those things have us at odds with our most core yearnings as human beings for connection and love and belonging. We survived saber toothed tigers and cave bears not because we out competed the person in the next cave and acquired more venison than them. We survived those things because the people in the next cave loved us and they would intervene if we were in danger. So we need connection, belonging, love. And modern culture is so out of alignment with those things. So what I've Seen with these things, like our first kill harvest, is that it's a way of enculturating people to our way of looking at the world and doing things. And it has great impacts. We'll also, by the way, just open it up for any other person who's ever been successful hunting just to share things with the new hunter. And they're amazing. Like one of his namesakes was saying, you'll notice there's different kinds of deer in the woods. There are fawns, there's does there young bucks with a spike or a fork horn, Big mature antlered bucks. And they all act differently. And deer are very gentle creatures. It's very rare that one would attack a person or something. But on the rare times when that happens, it sometimes surprises people to know that it's usually not a big, mature antlered buck that would mess with a person. It's an immature buck. And they're also the deer that's most likely to get shot. And in a way, what he was providing was a little metaphor for manhood. And he laid it out and he said, as men, we make so many of our biggest mistakes when we're young. It's when we're more likely to think driving 90 miles an hour was a good idea and pay the price or make someone else pay the price. When we're more likely to experiment with drugs and alcohol or go on a date and not respect our partner. So if you want to be a big, mature antlered buck, you gotta act like one. They move a little slower. They think before they act, you know, and these things are very formative. So this kid, like even later in life at age 16, one time I had a friend complaining, oh, my back. I can't get out in the woods. I don't even know last time I had venison in my freezer, he didn't say anything, but he just went out in the woods, harvested a deer, cleaned it up, packaged it up, went to my friend's house, filled up his freezer. So my friend calls me and he's like, I didn't even know anyone remembered these teachings. What an incredible young man. Can I give him some gifts? Sure. Same kid, senior year in high school, he and his buddy were going to double date to the prom. So I got him hooked up with a tux rental. And his friend's mom said, my next check, I'll get you the tux, I promise. And then her car went down and she had to say, I'm so sorry, I can't so he's all heartbroken, ready to cancel his prom date. My son says, oh, forget that. Come with me. Went to the tux place, he canceled his tux, took the money. They went to the Goodwill, bought a couple suits. Everybody went to the prom. I show up at the prom, you know, take pictures of my kid in a tux, and I'm like, where's the tux? Then I get the story. And I said, well, son, if you would have said something, I would have rented your friend a tux. And he looked at me baffled, and he said, but, dad, it's my job to look out for people who don't have enough. And so at every phase, like these kind of things, it's not just cute culture, it's formative about a way of looking at the world. And of course, we have ceremonies for all the things when there's a death in the family or sending somebody to the next world or, you know, all the different things. But I think sometimes, you know, in the Western world, people think of, you know, oh, you go to church for, you know, confirmation, you know, wedding, funeral, baptism, that's it, a couple times. Make grandma happy, you know, and it means much more to other people, I think within a particular faith tradition. But what I found with what's in our own cultural practice is that it's pretty deep. There's a lot there and its tools for life and how to navigate everything from the joys to the tough things.