By THIRSTY
In recognition of Native American Heritage
Month, Stay Thirsty Magazine
organized a virtual panel discussion on the life, legend and meaning of a man
called “Ishi” who walked out of the northern California wilderness in 1911 and
is widely recognized as the last of his Yahi tribe of Native Americans. Members
of the panel include Orin Starn, Ph.D., professor of cultural anthropology at
Duke University and the author of Ishi's
Brain: In Search of America's Last “Wild” Indian; Brian
Wescott, Native American filmmaker of the documentary Ishi’s Return; and, Steven Jay Griffel, bestselling novelist and
author of The Ishi Affair. Each of
these panelists responded to questions drafted by Stay Thirsty Magazine and their responses collectively offer an
unusual window into Ishi, the man, and the circumstances that surround the
history of Native Americans then and now.
STAY
THIRSTY: Why did you want to tell the
story of Ishi? What was the trigger that inspired your work?
ORIN STARN: I grew up in
California and heard about his story since I was a boy. I began to wonder more
about his life, going around Deer Creek and reading everything I could find. The
details of his story fascinated me – how he and the other last Yahi survivors
managed to hide in the canyon for decades; how Ishi coped with the radical
change of being brought to San Francisco and its ocean, skyscrapers, and
airplane.
Ishi’s story, too, raises very painful questions about the Anglo
conquest of California, and its disastrous consequences for native peoples. There’s
also something universal about Ishi’s journey between cultures, connections,
and solitude almost like a pilgrim on the trail to Santiago de Compostela or
the devastated King Lear on the cliffs of Dover trying to make sense of life’s impossibility. It’s hard, in a way, not to be drawn to Ishi’s story, for
it’s so powerful and connects to so many different issues, big and small.
Orin Starn, Ph.D. |
BRIAN
WESCOTT: I am continually amazed at the persistent notion that
Native people all died out in the late 19th century, or that the “real” and
“authentic” Indians were the ones who lived and died before contact with
Anglo-American settlers. I myself am a modern Alaska Native person who
nonetheless has a radiation AK Yup'ik name bestowed on me in a ritual that has
been practiced for thousands of years. I want to be allowed to be both
traditional and modern and that's why I wanted to tell the story of Ishi, the
supposed last real Indian.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: I grew up in a Jewish family.
My mother’s father was a cadet under Russian Czar, Nicholas II. As a young teen
I learned about the pogroms in Poland and Ukraine that wiped out entire
villages of Jews. Led by their parents, my father and his sister escaped Nazi Germany
before Kristallnacht. My family who stayed behind were murdered. In 1970, I
enrolled in a summer archaeological dig, headquartered at Chico State College
in northern California. I was only seventeen, the youngest member. One weekend,
when we had no fieldwork, I came upon The Ishi Museum in one of the college’s
main buildings. I had no idea what an Ishi
was. As I walked about the museum, learning about Ishi and his legacy, I was
stunned to discover that the United States government had been guilty of genocidal
practices against certain Native American peoples. These practices were partly
responsible for the death of the Yahi, Ishi’s people. I was shocked: Genocide—in my own country! That summer
I began writing a novel about Ishi and the Yahi.
STAY
THIRSTY: Considering all you know about
Ishi, what made his life so important?
ORIN
STARN: He’s
a powerful symbol of survival, both for Native Americans and, in different
ways, the rest of us. There’s also both pain and beauty. His is the story of
the destruction of a people. It’s also about creation and mystery, the amazing
precision of Ishi’s points and his voice singing to us in a lost language on
the recording he made.
BRIAN WESCOTT: Native people
are not allowed to make the transition into modernism. If they did survive into
the 20th century, then they are polluted by contact with the modern world and
thus not authentic, not pure. Authenticity resides on an ever-receding horizon
as anthropologists and art collectors rush in collect the “last” recording of
this or that language, the last basket, the last whatever. In reality, Native
people rebounded from their population nadir around 1890 with astonishing
success and have navigated their entry into and relationship with modernity
quite well, thank you very much. Because the man known as Ishi is the poster
boy for the supposed last “wild” (translation: “authentic”) Indian, examining
how he chose to navigate his
transition from living a mostly hunter-gatherer
life in his homeland to living in a museum in a city is a fascinating and
crucial one. He exhibited a remarkable amount of agency while living under the
dubious auspices of Dr. Kroeber. Reclaiming the true story of his mastery of
cultural transition is pivotal in rewriting the narrative that still insists that
all the real indigenous people died out with Ishi. In fact, he had lineal
descendants who still practice their religious rituals and who took on the
Smithsonian to welcome their beloved forebear home. This is a story of
ingenuity, resilience, and revival, not the sad passing of the supposedly
alone, isolated last wild Indian.
Brian Wescott |
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: I’m a storyteller, but I’m not
the voice of my people. I’m not the last of the Jews. My people’s history—their
customs, their traditions, their technology—would hardly be lost if I did not tell
my stories. Ishi knew that the story of his people was uniquely his to tell. If
he failed, the story of the Yahi would be forgotten. The fact that Ishi met the
challenge with such openness and with such dedicated responsibility is
testimony to his extraordinary character.
STAY
THIRSTY: Much has been said about the
relationship between the cultural anthropologist Alfred Kroeber and Ishi.
Taking into account the historical and social contexts of the times, should
Kroeber have acted differently? How would the discovery of a man like Ishi
today be handled?
Ishi in front of Yana House built by Ishi |
ORIN STARN: It’s important to
remember that Ishi’s story took place more than a century ago. Kroeber was ahead
of his time in some ways. Like his mentor, the great Columbia anthropologist
Franz Boas, he believed in human equality. He also saw great beauty in Native
California culture at an age when few even knew there were Indians in
California and, if they did, regarded them as uncivilized and uninteresting. Kroeber
cared for Ishi, and treated him well for the most part. His decision to expose
Ishi to so many people, shaking hands at the museum with thousands of visitors,
was thoughtless at best. He should have realized that this would make Ishi vulnerable to tuberculosis and other white diseases. (Kroeber’s own first wife
died of tuberculois.) He did try to prevent the removal of Ishi’s brain as a trophy
of science, but failed. And then, instead of trying to make things right, sent
off the brain to the Smithsonian. I think Kroeber, like all of us, was a complex
figure, and, despite his mistakes, left an important legacy behind. Many
California tribes draw upon his work in cultural revitalization efforts.
A man like Ishi
discovered now? That’s an interesting thought experiment. I wonder….
BRIAN WESCOTT: Of course I believe Dr. Kroeber should have treated the man dubbed Ishi
as an equal human being and not pinned him down in a museum like an insect
specimen to be studied and hoarded. But to be fair to him, he was very much a
man of his time and in that era virtually all non-Indians were certain that
Indians were on the way out and that the best anthropologists could do was race
to collect as much information and material artifacts as possible before they
all disappeared. Today, with the remarkable resurgence of indigenous power and
expression in all aspects of life, storing a living Native person in a
museum—not to mention the later, gruesome theft of his brain—would be
considered horrifying, appalling and inhumane. We now know that there are
enough lineal descendants of Ishi's cultural group who, if Ishi showed up
today, absolutely should be allowed to welcome their relative back into the
fold and let him choose how to live in this world that is so different than the
one he grew up in. Most anthropologists are aware enough now to know to engage
indigenous people immediately and let them take the lead on such a situation.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: As a man of his day, it seems
to me that Kroeber’s relationship towards Ishi was reasonable and responsible.
Really, what else could he
have done—return the middle-aged Ishi to his
mountain country and allow him to fend as he pleased? Perhaps. But did Ishi want
such freedom at that point in his life? I don’t believe he ever expressed that
to Kroeber, even in the Spring of 1914, when he led the anthropologists back to
his Deer Creek stomping grounds. I think Kroeber took a reasonable course—having
Ishi live at the museum, letting him build his own teepee on university
grounds, encouraging him to share aspects of his culture and his own humanity. If
a similar situation played out today, I’d hope that representatives of the
Native American community would be enlisted for their advice and assistance.
Steven Jay Griffel |
STAY
THIRSTY: Alfred Kroeber’s second wife, Theodora, reintroduced Ishi to the American public in
the 1960s. How did you learn about Ishi and what part of his story did you want
to reveal or clarify through your work?
ORIN STARN: I read Theodora
Kroeber’s book, and was fascinated by it and Ishi’s story. She was a wonderful
storyteller, and, in fact, it’s not surprising her daughter with Kroeber was
Ursula K. LeGuin, the great science fiction writer. When I delved deeper into
Ishi’s story, I began to see the various silences and inaccuracies in her
account. A white liberal in the early Civil Rights Movement, Theodora wanted to
tell a story of terrible injustice to Native Americans and yet also of
reconciliation and healing. She played up the story of Ishi and his white friends
to that end. She also left out the less comfortable parts of the tale,
including that her husband had sent Ishi’s brain off to the Smithsonian. Theodora
took other liberties too, among them overdramatizing and oversimplifying
events. It’s a wonderful book even so.
BRIAN WESCOTT: I first learned about Ishi from my mother, Dr. Elizabeth Parent, who
chaired the American Indian Studies Department at San Francisco State
University for 20 years. I remember as a child seeing that book on the shelf
and later reading and understanding it. The parts of the story that I most
wanted to refresh were 1) that Ishi was not the last “wild” Native person and
2) that his loving lineal descendants reunited his brain with his ashes in an
inspiring example of the enduring practice of their religion.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: After returning from my
archaeological dig I read Theodora Kroeber’s books about Ishi. Over the years I
did further research, but I was no longer passionately engaged by the story; my
unfinished novel remained in a drawer. The discovery of Ishi’s brain reignited
my interest. I read many articles about the repatriation of Native American
remains, but it wasn’t until I read Orin’s brilliant book, Ishi’s Brain, that I was ready to write my novel—The Ishi Affair—a new perspective on Ishi’s
legacy.
STAY
THIRSTY: If you were addressing high
school students about the Ishi story, what central lesson or message would you
seek to impart?
ORIN STARN: To encourage them to
think more about our country’s history, and, among other things, to recognize
that native peoples like Ishi’s Yahi were the original occupants of this land. And
also to recognize the distinctiveness and beauty of native cultures lost in
some cases, like the Yahi, and wonderfully surviving in others.
BRIAN WESCOTT: Native peoples, especially California Indians who experienced one of the
worst genocides on this continent, are surviving and thriving. Ishi was not the
last of them. He was merely the one most famous for stepping successfully into
the modern world.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: I would tell students that
their lives mattered. I would encourage them to write stories about themselves
and their family and to share them so they might be enjoyed and remembered.
Ishi's Return Film Poster |
STAY
THIRSTY: Why has the genocide of Native
American tribes during the 19th century faded so far into the
rearview mirror of history? Will the tragedies visited upon America’s
indigenous peoples ever receive full reparations?
ORIN STARN: We are a forgetful
nation. And now in the age of social media what happened yesterday is already
ancient history. I doubt, frankly, that we will ever see reparations. Majorities
have their way of forgetting, denying, or ignoring their debts to those they’ve
dispossessed.
BRIAN WESCOTT: I believe the reluctance to address the genocide stems from guilt and
greed. This nation, alas, of which I am a proud citizen by the way, nonetheless
has barely scratched the surface of acknowledging what its forebears did to the
indigenous peoples whose lands produced the wealth that makes this the most
powerful nation on the planet. That's the second factor, the greed that blinds
the country to the theft of so much land and wealth that no one wants to give
up. Well, I should say almost no one. Once in a while we learn about a
non-Native descendant voluntarily returning an important cultural artifact to
the tribe from which it was taken (or bought in an arm-twisting fire sale while
missionaries were stamping out the cultures). I find these examples incredibly
moving. The still-living Native descendants today often remember who made the
item, which is regarded as a living being, and welcome that being home. These
restorations inspire the ongoing renaissance in cultural pride and
craftsmanship among the people. I hope many more of these stories will ensue.
Truth and reconciliation need not be a grim duty or guilt trip. It can be an
inspirational story of people, Native and non-Native, coming together in a
spirit of mutual respect to return lost relatives to their homes.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: It wasn’t so much that the
story of Native American genocide faded as it was generally untold … or
unpublished … or scrupulously avoided in other ways. I was a textbook editor
for forty years. I don’t remember any mainstream American textbook describing
the buffalo slaughter as what it really was: a government-sanctioned genocide
of Native Americans. Other than the token story of the Cherokee “Trail of
Tears,” the unfair treatment of Native Americans has always been an
under-reported subject in educational texts. Simply put, the subject has not been
required reading, like the Holocaust. If we don’t teach our youth, we are
doomed to forget.
STAY
THIRSTY: Many Native Americans today seem
to have mixed feelings about mainstreaming into American society. Does the
story of Ishi help to preserve the importance of ancient ways in modern life?
ORIN
STARN: The
richness of his knowledge – whether singing, storytelling, intimacy with the
land – is great inspiration to recognizing the value of traditional ways. Yet
Ishi was also pragmatic and adaptable. He liked donuts and coconut cake. He
chipped some of his most beautiful points from bottle glass.
BRIAN WESCOTT: Yes, I believe the example of Ishi insisting on living out the end of his
life his way is a great affirmation
that Native people can maintain their way of life in the contemporary world. I
must admit I find the grim premise of the question a bit disconcerting. Yes,
many Native people keenly feel the loss of their languages and traditions,
which no doubt fuels the alienation and fragmentation that plague so many of
our people and cause many health and socioeconomic problems, but at the same
time I and many others are inspired by the unexpected and increasing revival of
so many aspects of our traditional cultures. Jessie Little Doe Baird winning a
MacArthur “genius grant” in 2010 for her astonishingly successful initiative to
revive the long-dormant Wampanoag language in Massachusetts (based on the
Wampanoag bible translated at the Harvard Indian College in the 17th century)
is one great example of people rediscovering and reactivating their traditions.
Ishi's descendants welcoming him home in a religious ritual very much akin to
those of his own specific tribelet also inspires hope in the unexpected
re-emergence of long-suppressed traditions. Meanwhile, new inflections of
tradition—along with fresh kinds of art, theater, music, rapping, spoken word,
dance, movies, video games, new media, etc.—also show that the creative spirit
of Native people is alive and well in any medium you can think of. If he
arrived in a time machine today, I think Ishi would be pleasantly surprised at
how much creativity and resilience indigenous people have summoned after
surviving an unspeakable genocide.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: Hmmm. I thought this question
would be easy to answer, but the more I think about it, the more complicated it
seems. For one thing, I don’t think that
mainstreaming necessarily means the relinquishment of traditional values and
customs. There are always degrees and individual ways by which such transitions
are effected. Also, for me—and I’m not a Native American or an
anthropologist—but the most important part of Ishi’s story is not the
preservation of the ancient Yahi ways. We have other records of flint-knapping
and bowstringing, and while it’s nice to know how the Stone Age Yahi used
acorns as a dietary staple, or how they tattooed their faces with sharp quills
and charcoal, such details, however colorful and interesting, are not my most
memorable takeaway. For me, the most important aspect of Ishi’s story is the
recounting of his humanity, his capacity for forgiveness, his generosity of
spirit, his desire to learn, and his desire to share what he knew. Ishi is the
story of a desperate man who heeded his better angels. It is this story that is
relevant to modern life.
STAY
THIRSTY: If you could pursue another
Native American subject for your next project, what would it be and why?
ORIN STARN: I’m finishing a book now about
the Shining Path guerrilla movement in Peru. There native history is very
different, among other things there are more than eight million speakers of
Quechua, the ancient Incan tongue. But there are also great similarities in
indigenous experience across the Americas. I sometimes think of Ishi when
I’m in a village in the Andean high country, wondering what he would have made
of Peru.
BRIAN WESCOTT: Native American skateboarders and other alternative sport athletes,
because they are using these unexpected activities to find a healthy rush as
opposed to the drugs and alcohol that plague so many young people.
STEVEN
JAY GRIFFEL: Because of my particular
interest in words and language, I
might write about Se-quo-ya, a member of the eighteenth-century Cherokee, who
created an effective writing system based on an “alphabet” of spoken Cherokee
syllables. I find this story utterly fascinating and inspiring.
(Ishi's Return trailer courtesy of Brian Wescott)
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