Gwaandak-Storytelling
Drin gwiinzii, good afternoon DZA family and friends,
I feel like it has been way too long since I updated my blog, but it has been on my mind. I feel like I'm more of an oral story-teller, than a sit down and write what I feel at that moment, which I know is so so so so important. One of my favorite things to do when I'm at home, or when I'm camping is to read stories from my elders or my people. Their stories always give me goosebumps and often have me thinking for days, or years- thinking of all the meanings and events that happened, but also the teachings. It also brings me comfort, and reading their words out loud makes me feel like I'm sitting with them, or getting to know them.
On river trips, I often watch the youth we have the honor to travel with, and sometimes think of the stories that would be told by them- years into the future.. The stories of stories told, the waters they traveled through, the food they ate, the changes they saw, the old building their grandparents lived in, the area’s their people traveled, or gathered, the family they gained, the lessons they learned, and the tears they cried, and the challenges they faced and endured. ‘
In 2021, I paddled the Beaver River with youth from the Yukon First Nations of Na-cho Nyák Dun. One of them, who also padded two years before was our youth leader, Kadrienne Hummel, who I call one of our young elders, not because she took her time, but because she has a true heart of goal, always looking after everyone, one of the most passionate people i know, super patience, unbelievably strong, beautiful inside and out, , and she wouldn’t walk by a flower or plant without studying it, and telling us what its name in Northern Tutchone(one of many Yukon First Nations languages) and what medicine it shares.
It’s been months since our trip, and in that time Kadrienne shared a part of her story on social media about the Beaver River Canoe Trip in Summer of 2021, and gave us permission to share.
In Kadrienne’s own words,
“Reminiscing on days of calm serenity; the sound of paddles streaming through the blue of mountain-fed water, pushing us to our next nest for the night.
Mentally tallying down each new environment of the ever adapting ecosystem of this watershed, every spot of erosion I didn’t meet the 2 years prior.
The further down River we go, the louder and more apparent the sizzling of the silt is against our paddles and canoes.
I think of the salmon; How few of them we’ve seen so far, and how hard the fight must be to push against the grainy fogged current.
All the fallen sweepers make for more of a dangerous river, but I’m curious as to how the acidic spruce medicines are working hard to heal the water and land.
Inhaling the vast sight of the Tiger Mineral Deposit as we round a new corner and what it would look like to see that mountain disturbed, what it would mean for my people of the First Nation of Na-Cho Nyak Dun.
I visualize the stories my grandmother has told me of her young years hunting sheep on that mountain with her uncle. Usually they didn’t send young girls out with them, but she was an only child so she needed to learn to hunt to provide.
All in all, more and more, the importance I recognize to stand up for an ancestor who has long missed us”.
Mahsi cho Kadrienne for letting us share.
Remember to Keep Being You, and I LOVE YOU!!!
“You’re closer than you ever were! “
Being out on the land always brings stories out of me, and I’m so proud to know we’re helping share the next generations of storytellers and teachers.
Mussi, Haii Choo, thank you very much,
Bobbi Rose
P.S. Kadrienne doesn’t know it, but on the trip, She was my leader, and our medicine.
