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The fish begin as eggs placed at one end of the Yukon river. When they hatch, they stay close for years, swimming around, getting stronger for what they know will come. The migration. Propelled by their own instincts, perhaps the pull of the earth's magnetic field or a strong sense of smell, salmon swim for weeks through Canada and Alask, Alaska, west for thousands of miles through tiny towns, migrating herds of caribou, Old growth forests, cities. And eventually they reach the ocean. Their cells change to be able to live in saltwater. There, they eat and eat to regain their strength. And when it's time, they turn around and swim right back up the river, all the way back to where they were born, where they lay and fertilize their own eg and then die. Every year for millions of years, king salmon have made this journey through the Yukon, attracting living beings to the river. Things like bears and trees and humans. They all evolved to rely on the yearly ritual of the salmon run. But now the salmon aren't running. I'm Ana Gonzalez, and this is our common nature a musical journey with Yo Yo Ma and me through this complicated country to help us all find that connection to nature that so many of us are missing. We climb mountains, play music, drive dirt roads, recite poetry, traverse rivers and oceans, and even our own brains, all to figure out how to better live on our planet together. In this episode, we are in Alaska, looking at how the order of life here is changing and how the people who live here and care deeply about this place are responding to that change by coming together even closer against insurmountable odds. And in order to do that, we're going to go on a little bit of a journey, starting in a house in Fairbanks, Alaska, filled with musicians and activists, where one of those artists will take us up hundreds of miles to a tiny town where the midnight sun lingers over the horizon, where the mosquitoes rain, and where the Gwich' in people are dealing with the void that salmon have left in the Yukon river. But we start with a little story about how yo yo wound up here. You made all of our hearts beat together. Culture is what turns the other into us. I was the other until yesterday. You turned me into one of you through your culture of openness. And that story begins with singer songwriter Quinn Kristofferson and his dogs. She does this, like, when people are here to, like, show that she's dominant. We settle into Quinn's apartment strewn with instruments and dog toys, and we immediately start talking about fish. You know, growing up, there's an abundance. So much fish. Yeah. So much fish. A lot of work to be done. We're taught to use everything that we catch, like the skin we fried up and the guts, we just give it to the dogs, and then they have just the most beautiful fur, right? And then the eyeballs, you just. That's a prank that you pull on your friends. What do you do? What do you do with the eyeballs? Try and get them to eat it. Quinn is Alaska Native, a mix of Ahtna and Inupiaq, and he grew up going fishing with his family in Alaska. But that has changed. You know, there is less and less salmon now. For the past 20 years or so, salmon numbers have been declining in parts of Alaska. The predictability of the every summer fish camp is gone. And Quinn is coping with that loss the best way he knows how. I started, like, writing poetry when I was in seventh grade, and I remember it so clear because I was going through a really hard time, like, with my home life, and I just started writing these poems, and immediately, like, felt better. It just gave me so much power. From then on, I just, like, never stopped writing. I'm tired of people trying to erase me. Today, Quinn is making a career out of that process. He's a singer songwriter, and this song is what won him the NPR Tiny Desk contest. Trying to Erase Me. Quinn tours all over the world, singing words that he wrote, processing all of the big emotions of his life. I'm tired. He's also a trans man and known as one of the few queer Alaska Native musicians in the public eye. Quinn's songwriting skills got the attention of another queer performer. Yeah, my name is Patty Gonia, and I am an environmentalist and drag queen. How do those two things in your mind go together? I mean, the art form of drag has been used since its inception to fight for what people believe in, for human rights, for queer rights at first. But I think it makes a lot of sense to use drag as a communication tool, as an art form, to advocate for this planet as well. And that's what Patty's doing. She's known for going out into nature in full drag, hiking in heels, skiing with a full beat on her face, three feet of wig, flying in the wind, all to raise awareness for enormous environmental issues. And recently, she turned her attention to a glacier in Alaska that meant a lot to her. My dad passed of brain cancer about 10 years ago. And when he passed, I took his ashes up to Alaska with my brother, and I got to scatter my dad's ashes in front of this glacier because he was Actually born in Anchorage. And so it felt like a way to close that chapter. And when she went there, she saw that it was dying. You see three story tall sections of ice crash into the water. This is one of the many big changes in Alaska. Glaciers are supposed to melt slowly. It's part of their life cycle. But climate change is speeding up that process, warming the waters, which melts the ice, which causes flooding. And this domino effects all the way down to the salmon, which we will get back to, I promise. But Patti wanted to honor the life and death of these essential icy giants in Alaska using her art of drag. My original idea for the project is to perform a funeral for a glacier. But she didn't quite know how to do that, so she asked Quinn, if you know Patty, you don't say no to her. So. So Patty pitched Quinn this big kind of campy idea. The glacier's melting. We're saying goodbye to it. This is a funeral. But that didn't sit right with Quinn. My perspective as a native person is that we're not different than nature. So, like, when we're talking about nature, we're talking about ourselves, and we're taking care of nature, we're taking care of ourselves. We have so much fight to do, so work to do. Like, it would be a disservice to, like, say, all right, nice knowing you. That's how it kind of turned into a love song. I'm so thankful for collaboration because, you know, that direction took an about face, and instead of giving up, the perspective changed to what if there was something worth fighting for? And this is an idea that Yo Yo Ma can vibe with. Patagonia and Quinn are incredible characters. They're both so devoted to their mission to highlight what is happening to their homes and to have a human reaction to it. So yo yo flew to Alaska and met up with Quinn. Patty. Yeah, I'll never forget, I had a backup wig. And yo yo decided that he would love to wear that backup wig and put it on. You put on a wig, you start to act differently. I sashay, you know, around the floor. He hopped straight into his drag Persona. He was finger snapping. He was literally saying, slay boots and I can die happy. Now, what do you think his drag Persona is like? What's her name? Yo mama, duh. Eventually, he put the wig down and started playing his addition to the song that Quinn and Patty wrote. Are we ready? Let's do it. Well, I'm not, I'm not gonna say goodbye I won't see you on the other side Even when I feel tired I won't stop you and I made above the same thing things nature running in our vein Even when I feel tired I won't stop trying I won't give up for a minute Never giving up on you Never giving up on you. This is Yo Yo Quinn and Patty performing their song Won't Give up together at an event in Fairbanks, Alaska. It's a workshop called Listen to Heal, created by Princess Dazrai Johnson. The intention of the workshop was really to create a safe space where we could channel these feelings of frustration. But beneath all that is just a deep grief for how quickly everything is changing up here. Princess is an activist, organizer, and writer, and she wrote a poem about salmon, which she performed after Patty Quinn and Yo Yo'd in Fairbanks. Oceans and rivers once teeming with life. The title of this poem is When We Were Salmon. Princess wrote it to reflect her angst about the declining salmon numbers in Alaska, about how Alaska native people like her are struggling to keep their connection to this species. Let us dream together. Let us honor what is left and make prayers to restore our relationship so we might continue to swim together so that we might see once again full nets and busy fish camps. As Princess projects these words into a small room in Fairbanks, it's kind of hard to see how a musical performance to a small crowd can change anything. But the point is that all of these seemingly random pairings of Patty and Quinn and Princess and Yo yo, they can come together and listen to each other. They can collaborate and become one unified voice. Absolutely. I mean, all of these voices have to come together. And sometimes you act in unison, sometimes you act separately. Sometimes one changes roles or wigs, whatever the case. And that's the resilience of a group. You know, Wynton Marsalis has a way of talking about jazz as being a democracy. And when I heard him say that, I said, wait a minute. That applies to chamber music. It applies to any large scale artistic group where people agree that there's going to be a form and guardrails of that form. And once you agree, it's a micro version of our constitution. A constitution is really just a group of people agreeing on a set of rules for their community. And I get how people do it with music, but how do actual governments figure out those rules? And how the heck do people ever agree on them? It's not easy, but we have to protect the salmon. After the break, we go north, way north with Princess to see how her culture has managed to protect an entire ecosystem through the power of their voices. Our Common Nature is supported by the National Forest Foundation, a non profit transforming America's love of nature into action for our forests did you know that the National Forests provide clean drinking water to one in three Americans? And that national forests and grasslands cover nearly 10% of the U.S. hosting 150,000 miles of trails and providing habitat for over 3,000 species of plants and animals? The National Forest foundation supports the places where we come alive, keeping the trails, rivers and forests we love healthy. Last year they planted 5.3 million trees and advanced over 300 projects to protect nature and communities nationwide. Their work creates lasting impact by restoring forests and watersheds, strengthening wildfire resilience, and expanding recreation access for generations to come. And when forests struggle, so do we the water in our taps, the air we breathe, and the trails that connect us all. Learn how you can help@nationalforest.org Yoyoma WNYC Studios is supported by the New York Phil Mozart's music is showcased in two concerts. Violinist Gil Shaham leads the orchestra as soloist in two concertos. The elegant second and exuberant fifth, Louis Langri then conducts the orchestra's wind section in Mozart's genial Grand Partida and Richard Strauss lyrical serenade January 2nd and 3rd at David Geffen Hall. Tickets@nyphil.org. Hey, it's Frances Lamb, host of the Splendid Table. Every week on our show we talk about food and cooking and the meanings of food and cooking. We talk with the most interesting people in food about their techniques, their culture and everything in between, whether it's about how fried chicken took over the world or how Instagram changes the way people are actually eating. It's a food show where everyone is welcome. Come join us. You can listen to the Splendid Table wherever you get your podcasts. You're listening to 11:70am Alaska AM radio. That's all you get because it's the only station you get on the drive up to Circle. It is Sunday, July 14, 2024 and we've been driving since for about 100 miles. Our common nature is back. I'm Ana Gonzalez and my producer Alan and I are on the only road that drives into Circle, Alaska. In fact, we are driving to the end of the road. Like where there are no more roads. 50 miles south of the Arctic Circle. This is the farthest north I've ever been. No, this is the furthest north you've ever been. Actually, you're wrong. This is now the farthest north I've ever been. I'm pretty sure you're Wrong. Wrong. This is the furthest north you or I have ever been. And again, I'm going to correct you because it's actually right now we're traversing mountain ranges, passing crystalline lakes, eating cheese sandwiches and hoping that we don't get a flat tire as the road becomes unpaved. We're only a few weeks out from the summer solstice, so luckily we don't have to worry about driving in the dark. 6:48 Coming up on 7pm the sun is not setting. Don't really know what's going to happen, but the plan is we're going to literally camp. We're going to pop our tents and spend the next five days in circle along the banks of the Yukon river. Why circle, population 91? Well, Princess invited us up to attend this year's Gwich' In Gathering, the biennial event that brings together her Alaska native community, the Gwich' in from all across Alaska and Canada. Every Gwich' in community has its own vibe. It has its micro culture of, you know, Gwich' in life. We're actually lucky we can even drive into circle. Many Gwich' in communities can only be reached by plane or boat because they lie along the Yukon River. Circle sits at a calm part of the river. And as we finally arrive, we see it glittering in the distance. I mean, every time I get close to the Yukon, I just feel the power of that waterway. I think about my ancestors who traveled up and down it. I think about the life that it gives us. Every two years, the Gwich' in Gathering is held at a different Gwich' in community. It's always at the height of summer when the salmon are supposed to be traveling from the ocean almost 2,000 miles back to the beginning of the Yukon in northwestern Canada, where they will spawn and eventually die. Do you mind if I press record? And can you tell me about a fish wheel? If you hit a school of fish, man, it just pulls all these fish out and the box would even overflow, you know, or otherwise. Alan and I are part of the small group of people at the gathering who are not Gwich' in here to awkwardly insert ourselves into this tight knit indigenous community camping along the banks of the river. But we found out that everyone was pretty open. Okay, Hi, My name's Curtis Tindall. I'm 61 and happily married. But if 30 years ago, I would be up here to meet the beautiful Gin women. We're next to dozens of tents that are set up on the grass on the banks of the Yukon River. It's got a family campground vibe with picnic tables, RVs, and grills. The water below us is silver and quiet. No waves, no visible fish of any kind, and no fish wheels, which Curtis is telling us about. Okay, well, you build the bases out of logs. It's all made out of wood, Right. And then the current makes buckets turn, and then when it comes down into the water, the fish are swimming towards it, and it's just like a net and picks it up. We caught some king salmon that were so big they literally broke the buckets. Those were probably like 70 pounds or more. He's talking about the king salmon or chinook. Chinook can weigh up to 100 pounds per fish. A wheel full of them is enough to feed a family or a village for months. Everybody we talked to at the gathering had a story about them. I guess my grandpa's brother had had a fish and they fished there for the summer making, like dry salmon and salmon strips because you have some so many. I got a call at like 2:30am and it was my cousin, and he was like, hey, they just brought in 12 more fish to come down. And we were sitting there all night cutting fish in the smokehouse. But that's not the reality this summer, and it hasn't been for a while. Every year there have been fewer and fewer salmon running down the Yukon River. And Dula Erickson, who I talk salmon with along the banks of the Yukon, she explained to me that the governments of the United States and Canada have been putting more and more restrictions on how and when people can fish. And that's like, one of the things, I think that creates a lot of grief within our communities, too, is like the younger generation are missing out on those kinds of interactions. My cousin, he's a teacher, and they were watching like an old video and there was a fish wheel in it, and the kids didn't know what it was. Wow. Yeah. What are your hopes for the salmon? I have to think that they're going to come back. Yeah. It's the only way forward. But right now, entire generations are missing out on learning how to fish with their families. And that's what hurts Princess the most. We're not able to go there and actually set net for king salmon. It didn't need to be this way if we had more decision makers honoring our relationship with the salmon and not looking at it only as this method of fueling the economy. It's so much more than that. Okay, so let's consider the salmon. What exactly is our human relationship with this fish, outside of just eating it, it looks like dinner's being served. While waiting in line for dinner one night, we met this tall Swedish scientist named Peter Windsor. We'll let you cut us in line if you give us the interview. Yeah. Turns out he's an oceanographer who spent over 25 years working on Arctic ecosystems. So I asked him about sand. I mean, Arctic ecosystems are low biodiversity. So each, each little moth or butterfly or even mosquito up to bigger animals like caribou, polar bears. Same with salmon. I mean, you can't pull out something out of the ecosystem and think it's just going to be functional. It's all connected. And salmon are the connectors, weaving the oceans into the rivers and the forests and mountains just by living their migratory lives, eating, digesting and decomposing over the thousands of miles of their journeys. They're a keystone species. Without them, the entire system of life here would fall. That would be absolutely catastrophic. Yeah, yeah. How do you deal with all that stress and worry because you know so much and you can foretell what can happen in all these scenarios? I think you can't be a doomist. You know, I think there are lots of brakes and safety valves we can still switch on. For the global climate system, both for oceans and animals and people, the Earth system has the capacity to rebound if we, the ultimate invasive species, start doing the right thing. There are a lot of interpretations of what doing the right thing could mean in the face of the global threat that is climate change. But for decades, the Gwich' in have decided to figure it out the way that their ancestors did, camping along the banks of the Yukon river and talking. George Richelle Adams Oji My name is Melissa Charley. I'm originally from Minto. Brian Ridley. I'm the chief chairman for the Tanana Chiefs Conference. A lot of our elders and relatives have been fighting this salmon issue and the decimation of our king and dog salmon. The Gwich' in Gathering of 2024 took place in a series of tents and buildings in the tiny town of Circle, Alaska. And the main tent is long and white, backed by the Yukon river, with a speaker podium on one end and dozens of folding chairs for folks to sit and listen to the in each Gwichin community. It's really beautiful here. It's powerful here. It's up to us. We can't speak one without the other. And I want to just, you know, talk a little bit about losing our resources slowly. Well, that's exactly what's happening around us right now. Can you say Your first and last name and kind of however you want to introduce yourself. My name is Chris Statnick. I am Vunta Gwichen. I met up with Chris outside of the tent. He's a lawyer from Canada, and he's known about the gathering his whole life. I remember my uncle Robert Bruce coming home from a trip from Washington, and he had a picture of him and Will Smith together. This is like the height of Fresh France, of Bel Air. And I was like, who is my uncle? Chris is one of the roughly 9,000 people in the United States and Canada who claim Gwich' in ancestry. And he explained to me that the reason people like his uncle made it to Washington, D.C. to meet the Fresh Prince and probably also U.S. leaders is because they're organized. The Gwich' in speak with one political voice, even though their population lives between two countries and three time zones. When the Gwich' in come to this gathering every two years, they listen to each other and decide what to do next through consensus. It means you can't leave people behind, and you really do have to build understanding and help us all get on the same page. Consensus voting on big issues is what's helped the Gwich' in protect one of their most sacred places. In the 1980s, the Reagan administration wanted to open up thousands of acres of coastal Alaska for oil drilling. This land is part of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, and it's been sacred to the Gwich' in people for thousands of years. Our teachings were essentially to avoid it. I spoke with Chris about this more via Zoom, and he explained to me that for Gwichin people, the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge has always been known as the sacred place where life begins. And Gwich' in people are told never to step foot there because we know it's this important place of renewal. The Arctic Wildlife Refuge is roughly the size of South Carolina. It sits a short plane ride north of where we are on the Yukon. It connects the Gwich' in lands to the sea north of Alaska. There are no roads there, no cars, no pipelines. The porcupine caribou have their babies there. The muskox roam free, and hundreds of migratory bird species find safety in its trees. This is a sacred place that feeds the entire Arctic. But in the 1980s, oil companies threatened to trample this precious ecosystem. So the Gwich' in decided to come together in 1988 along the banks of the Yukon River. And they talked, they danced, they sang, and they created a resolution saying that we withhold our consent to development in the calving grounds. Of the caribou. And it worked. If you look at a map today of the northern coast of Alaska, you'll see oil fields dotting the entire coast everywhere except for the Arctic Wildlife Refuge. And that's because the Gwich' in people came together and spoke with one voice. And every two years, the Gwich' in gathering brings community leaders back together to reaffirm this resolution. And in 2022, for the first time, that resolution also included the protection of the salmon. Whereas for thousands of years we, the Gwich', in, have and continue to steward and live alongside the Chinook, Falcham and Coho salmon. Our lawyer friend Chris helped write it. The Gwich' in have the inherent right to self determination and provision. It took days to write and days to talk through to make sure that every single person in the room agreed with it. The final paragraph reads, the Gwich' in Nation Restore Luksho, which is the Gwich' in word for salmon and their ecosystems of the porcupine and Yukon Rivers through Gwich' in led stewardship based upon Gwich' in knowledge, research and studies while utilizing local, national and international forums and partnerships. This resolution passed unanimously this 21st day of July 2022 in Old Crow, Yukon. But the very next year, the governments of Alaska and Canada decided to take their own action and place a moratorium on all salmon fishing in the Yukon river for one complete life cycle of a king salmon. That's seven years of no salmon fishing in the Yukon. Which maybe sounds like a good idea if you're trying to prevent the salmon from disappearing altogether. Except that it only really prevents the very few people who live along the Yukon from fishing in their traditional ways. Those are mostly Gwich' in people, and they didn't all agree with that decision. How the Gwich' in responded after the break. Our Common Nature is supported by the National Forest Foundation, a nonprofit transforming America's love of nature into action for our forests. Did you know that the National Forests provide clean drinking water to one in three Americans? And that national forests and grasslands cover nearly 10% of the U.S. hosting 150,000 miles of trails and providing habitat for over 3,000 species of plants and animals. The National Forest foundation supports the places where we come alive, keeping the trails, rivers and forests we love healthy. Last year they planted 5.3 million trees and advanced over 300 projects to protect nature and communities nationwide. Their work creates lasting impact by restoring forests and watersheds, strengthening wildfire resilience, and expanding recreation access for generations to come. And when forests struggle so do we. The water in our taps, the air we breathe, and the trails that connect us all. Learn how you can help@nationalforest.org Yoyoma WNYC Studios is supported by the New York Phil Mozart's music is showcased in two concerts. Violinist Gil Shaham leads the orchestra as soloist in two concertos, the elegant second and exuberant fifth. Louis Langri then conducts the orchestra's wind section in Mozart's genial Grand Partida and Richard Strauss lyrical serenade January 2nd and 3rd at David Geffen Hall. Tickets@nyphil.org. Hey, it's Frances Lamb, host of the Splendid Table. Every week on our show we talk about food and cooking and and the meanings of food and cooking. We talk with the most interesting people in food about their techniques, their culture, and everything in between. Whether it's about how fried chicken took over the world or how Instagram changes the way people are actually eating. It's a food show where everyone is welcome. Come join us. You can listen to the Splendid Table wherever you get your podcasts. This is our common nature. In 2023, the governments of the United States and Canada created a seven year moratorium on fishing for salmon in the Yukon River. The Gwich' in people who have fished salmon in the Yukon for centuries did not all agree with that decision. And here's Princess Dazar Johnson. It's years of mismanagement and we're the first ones to pay the price. She says that while the people who fish along the Yukon are prevented from fishing in their waters, commercial fishing operations can still pull in huge numbers of salmon in the ocean. So these big fisheries, they might be out there fishing for pollock and they can't help it, right? They bring up all of this good king salmon. Well, once the fish come up, they're dead and they are not allowed to keep them. They're thrown overboard. The amount over the years, it's staggering. And that could have been going to feed families. Princess says that the Alaskan government is donating fish to people who need it to survive. But it's not just about eating the salmon. We are not able to pass on the ways in which we keep the relationship with the salmon. We're not able to pass on how you set the net, how you check the net, how you read the rivers. It is heartbreaking, the frustration, the injustice of it all. And back in that main white tent at the 2024 gathering, a lot of people were feeling that sort of frustration. Especially in the summer before two big elections in the United States And Canada, the next president of the United States, he's going to open everything up to whoever wants to develop it. That's not going to be good for our people. They are going to go there whether we got a United nations declaration or not. But how much does Canada stand if they're going to go conservative as well? When? We don't know. On the last day I was in circle, all the leaders were supposed to vote, vote to reaffirm this resolution to protect the caribou and the salmon, just like they've done every two years for decades. But some of the older generation seem to be losing hope in that ancient power of discussion and consensus. What good does a resolution like this do if no one outside of this tent in circle pays attention? So I stand here unsure, and I will withdraw that resolution and put it back to discussion. But then, so when we come over here, we hear this. A drum came out. Puts joy in my heart, strengthens my identity. Hit the drum for us. It's going to sing for us. Help us start our day, reconnect us as one people. And when he drums, I want you to think about your ancestors. Think about Those people in 1988 that passed on, that started this. Let's bring them back in here today. Help us to get through some of those things that are really difficult for us, because there's some things we're going to talk about today that we need to talk about. The core group of singers circled around the drum. First a song about caribou, Then a good luck song. Finally a song about the salmon. Bring the salmon, control our life. Did you notice this tent was shaking? That's our ancestors. Our ancestors are here with us. And just like that, it was time to vote on reaffirming all of the resolutions on the table. Approved the Article 25 declaration. It took hours. Even with the drumming and the coming together, there were a lot of questions. We're at an impasse with the federal government and making sure you've seen this before as a people, our ancestors have tackled this. Our voices need to be one. We have the authority, the jurisdiction of our people. We need to protect our people. I'm here because I feel passionate about the direction it's meant to say. We're not just a group of individuals. We're collectives, we're nations. They were all answered. Nobody was ignored. Can we get a round of applause for that discussion we just had? And then it was time to vote. Can we get a motion for that to approve this resolution from 2022. Grand Chief Ken Kovichik moves to reaffirm resolution from 2022. Is there a second? Our traditional chief, Steve Guinness. Seconds. Now comes the important part. Is there anybody opposed to this? Is there anybody opposed. Seeing nobody opposed. Which a nation has reached consensus in adopting. Which in NCI 2024 resolution, protect the birthplace and nursery grounds. The porcupine care bird. Oh, my goodness. That took a while. But that's how we do things. Chris Statnick, our lawyer friend, was in the tent during the resolution talks, and I caught up with him outside. Yeah, we had a lot of good discussion today. That's the way we work towards consensus, which is an actually difficult thing to do, but something that I'm really proud of us at Gwich', in, of continuing to operate that way. That's what we ended up getting to at the end of the day, was a shared understanding of reaffirming and continuing this into the future and using whatever tools we can. The passing of this resolution is not legally binding under any government, but passing a resolution like this is a show of unity and strength at a moment of peril for the Arctic and maybe the world. Every two years, the process of gathering reconnects the Gwiching community to its past, its present, and its future. They talk, they sing, they tell stories and jokes, and all of that protects not only their culture, but. But their way of life. On my last night in circle, there was a brief rainstorm, and then it passed and left a rainbow. Seriously, that. It's a double rainbow now. Princess and I walked down to the banks of the Yukon to take a look. So, Anna, what has this experience been like for you? It's a little too loud at the campsite with people having fun. So we're walking down a gravel boat ramp together, and we're looking at a beautiful, huge rainbow that spans one side of the river all the way to the other side of the river. It's such an embrace from the land. It's such a coming home to the water, to the Yukon River. I mean, look at this. It's also an affirmation of the incredible people I come from that we're still very much exercising our language, our culture. And when we do that, we get these kind of acknowledgments. The river sings to you, the rainbow comes out, and that healing takes place. Sam, On every single one of these trips, at some point, yo yo will play Somewhere over the Rainbow. He's playing it here in Fairbanks. It's a sweet song, and people have sweet reactions to it. But I asked Yo yo one time. Why he plays 1939 was a very dark time in the world. The world was at war with one another, and people really literally thought this was the end of the kind of life as we knew it. And to know that Somewhere over the Rainbow was written during that time is so quintessentially human for that song to be written that is so wistful and yearning and hopeful. That is what humans are capable of. It's one of the unique things for our species to be able to have hope, because hope is the beginning of dreaming, and dreaming is the beginning of organizing and acting towards a goal that is worthy for everybody to join in. Dreaming of a new reality, no matter how dark the present one might seem, is the first step towards change. Princess Johnson told me that after this journey through Alaska, first in Fairbanks with Yo yo and Patty and Quinn, and now here on the Yukon river with her people, she was asleep one night, and deep in her subconscious dream state, she had a vision. I was on a bank of a river. I was with one of my brothers. I saw old driftwood and like trees coming, like the water was surging. It was like a push. And it kind of got me scared because I thought, is this a flood? But when it got closer, it was king salmon from one side of the river to the other, bubbling, pushing the water. And I looked at my brother and I said, we have to tell everyone that they're here. They're. As Princess and I stand, looking out over the Yukon, over the rainbow, and towards the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. There are no fish wheels or drop nets in the river. And at this point, we don't know that Trump will win or that within the first six months of his presidency, he will open up the Arctic Wildlife Refuge for bids to drill for oil. We don't know he'll be attempting to sell public lands and attack queer and trans people like Quinn and Patty. Standing here with Princess, hearing her dreams, they don't seem far fetched because the Gwich' in have something more powerful than fear. A culture that unifies their voice, songs that connect them, and visions of a few future that will come as new generations of lawyers, scientists, artists and activists continue to come together along the banks of the Yukon River. In the next episode of Our Common Nature, we get go to West Virginia to hear about the ongoing impact of coal in a place where music snakes through the mountains like a river. Our Common Nature is a production of WNYC and Sound Postings hosted by me, Ana Gonzalez. Produced by Alan Gofinski with editing from Pearl Marvel. Sound design and episode music by Alan Gofinski mixed by Joe Plord Fact checking by Anna Alvarado. Executive producers are Emily Botin, Ben Manzelkern, Sophie Shackleton and Jonathan Bayes. Our advisors are Mira Burton Tonic, Kamaka Diaz, Kelly Libby and Chris Newell. Additional audio from Princess and James Johnson to watch the short film that they made about Yo Yo's trip to Fairbanks and their series of workshops called Listen to Heal, you could find the link in our show notes. Won't Give up was written by Patty Gonia and Quinn Christofferson. You can find the music video where Patty Quinn and Yo yo perform on a glacier in our show Notes. One of them is in drag and I won't tell you who. And if you want to listen to more music from this series, you can check out the Our Common Nature EP featuring Yo yo playing with Eric Mingus, Jen Kreisberg and an Icelandic choir. Now available on all streaming platforms. This podcast was inspired by a project of the same name conceived by Yo Yo Ma and sound postings with creative direction by Sophie Shackleton in collaboration with with partners all over the world, Our Common Nature is made possible with support from Emerson Collective and Tambourine Philanthropies. Our Common Nature is supported by the National Forest Foundation, a nonprofit transforming America's love of nature into action for our forests. Did you know that the National Forests provide clean drinking water to 1 in 3Americans? And when forests struggle, so do we. The National Forest foundation creates lasting impact by restoring forests and watersheds, strengthening wildfire resilience, and expanding recreation access for all. Last year they planted 5.3 million trees and led over 300 projects to protect nature and communities nationwide. Learn more@nationalforest.org Yoyoma.