I tried to get the Portland Press to print this article as an op-ed but they refused and made me cut a 730 word article down to 150 words. I did that because I wanted to get something in about Rachel before the primary next week. I decided to put the entire article on my facebook and ask you guys to share it on your facebook pages twitter and any other form of social media you can.The paper controls too much of our political process. Please circulate this! THANK YOU!!!!
Between 1998 and 2008, Loring served as Penobscot tribal representative to the Maine State Legislature. Maine is unique in having tribal representatives sit in its state legislature. Following this tradition, which dates back to the 1800s, Loring served several terms on behalf of the Penobscots. One of her major accomplishments was her writing and sponsorship of LD 291, “an Act to Require Teaching Maine Native American History and Culture in Maine’s Schools,” which passed as a law in 2001. She also created and supported the first "State of the Tribes Address" in 2002.
During her tenure, Loring kept a journal, which she later turned into a memoir, In the Shadow of the Eagle. The book provides great insight into the inner workings of the U.S. government on a state level, as well as the adversity Native Americans face in modern times. For instance, the first bill Loring worked on was called the “Offensive Names Bill.” This banned the use of the word "Squaw" in the titles of Maine locations and tourist spots. She also worked on a bill that proposed an extension on the time period in which the tribe could purchase land for the Calais Casino. More than one representative opposed this and any bill having to do with Native casinos, while at the same time supporting bills that would enable race tracks to receive verbal bets over the telephone.
Loring also used her position to fight environmental contamination from a local paper company. When she brought the issue to the table, the company responded with a bill to define and criminalize environmental terrorism. Loring responded by publishing an article suggesting that the bill's sponsors were the true "environmental terrorists."
As her final action in the state legislature, Loring brought forward the JOINT RESOLUTION IN SUPPORT OF THE UNITED NATIONS DECLARATION ON THE RIGHTS OF INDIGENOUS PEOPLES (H.P. 1681). This passed, without debate, in both the State House and Senate on April 15, 2008. Maine was only state in the country to pass such a resolution in favor of the UN Declaration of Indigenous Rights.
Although Loring had opposition during her time as Tribal representative, her influence within the house was recognized by everyone. One of her opponents, Representative Waterhouse, once proposed a bill to ban the use of minors in police sting operations, particularly those involving tobacco sales. Loring stood up in support of this bill, which passed with staggering numbers (about two thirds). Later, she received a note from Waterhouse himself, saying “Thanks Donna, you have a lot of sway around here.”
In 2009, Loring gave her personal and literary papers to the University of New England, which established a highly regarded lecture series in her name. Loring has continued to write and has produced the first Penobscot musical, The Glooskape Chronicles.
*This article began as a biographical entry for Wikipedia. We thank Donna Loring for her time and feedback on that article and this one.
Dolloff, Aimee. "‘The Eagle’ has landed; The Legislature’s tribal representative, Donna M. Loring, hopes her memoir provides a guide for those who follow in her footsteps". Bangor Daily News. Retrieved 18 April 2013.
Starbird, Glenn (1983). "A Brief History of Indian Legislative Representatives". Maine State Law and Legislative Reference Library. Retrieved 17 April 2013.
Penobscot Tribal Nation. "Donna Loring." Penobscot Culture. Penobscot Tribal Nation. Retrieved 4 April 2013.
Senier, Siobhan. "A Penobscot Musical in the Making". Indigenous New England Literature. Retrieved 5 April 2013.
]]>Masta’s Abenaki Legends, Grammar, and Place Names is not just a dictionary, but also a dissection of an immense collection of different Abenaki words, names, and tales. Titles and stories are broken down and explained for the reader. Their origins are traced, and their importance is sketched. In constructing and compiling these extensive explanations, Masta is actively revitalizing the Abenaki language and promoting decolonization through the continued practice of the dying language. Masta is also utilizing the Abenaki language so as to carry on the myths and cosmos of the native people.
Within the foreword written by A. Irving Hallowell, a professor of anthropology at the University of Pennsylvania, he explains, “While the phonetic symbols used (in this book) are not refined to the extent demanded in academic circles, a reasonable degree of systemization has been achieved” (Hallowell, 11). This excerpt is an attempt to warn the reader that the writer will be using traditional Abenaki spellings and letter combinations. Masta chose this method in an effort to encourage proper pronunciation, thus keeping all words and names as true to the language as possible. This, then, is a distinct effort from Masta towards decolonization; Masta has challenged the “academic circles,” and has successfully published a piece of oral history that remains true to the roots of the native peoples.
Furthermore, the foreword includes several examples of the “reasonable degree of systemization” used by Masta so as to teach the reader how to pronounce certain letter combinations unique to Abenaki. For example: “‘w’ preceding or following a consonant is equivalent to 'u' pronounced as 'oo' in English, "moon," the difference being that in Abenaki this sound is uttered with even a more marqed [sic] lip protrusion and weak breath” (Hallowell, 11). This is a vivid example of the author’s initial goal, which is to promote decolonization through language revival. In the aforementioned excerpt, the reader is instructed how to pronounce certain words through physical direction. This adds to revival efforts and challenges the norm of the more widely spoken languages.
In addition to traditional Abenaki words and grammar, Masta lists ecological titles and their origins. An example from “The Meaning of Indian Names of Rivers, Lakes Etc.” section of the dictionary follows:
NAHANT, Mass. This celebrated watering place is a part of the beautiful town of Lynn. It is a peninsula, jutting out about five miles into Massachusetts Bay and forms Lynn Bay on the south. Nahant means point. (Masta, 93)
Masta has taken his dictionary and threaded into it several legends of his people and stories of different battles amongst native tribes. For the first two parts of Abenaki Legends, the book reads much like a religious or historical text. In his work, “The Life and Traditions of the Red Man, Joseph Nicolar explains that, “Henry Lorne Masta, former Head Chief of the St. Francis Abenaki at Odanak, Quebec, included three separate stories of Abenaki-Iroquois entanglements in his Abenaki Legends, Grammar, and Place Names” (Nicolar, 85). In Anthropological Linguistics, an archive of languages from Indiana University’s Anthropology Department, Masta, along with Pierre Paul Osunkhirine and Chife Joseph Laurent, is described as, “A native author who produced translations, legends, and descriptions of language, in addition to religious materials for the use of both Catholics and Congregationalists” (Grant, 577). These accreditations affirm that Masta is both historically accurate in his retellings and respected in his religious inclusions. These additions are important because they further display Masta’s wide net of efforts to encourage an embrace of Abenaki culture.
One of the first of Masta’s legends that the reader encounters involves John Loden, an Abenaki, and his wife Mary Nigen, a Wawenock of Becancour, Quebec. In the legend, they are headed to Batiscan River near Rat River, Quebec, late one summer. Colin M. Coates, in his The Metamorphoses of Landscape and Community in Early Quebec, offers insight into the area’s past: “The origins of the word “Batiscan” are obscure, though it doubtless has an Amerindian derivation” (Coates, 14).In the introduction, Masta announces that the couple are from different tribes. Although they may have originated separately, they have come together as husband and wife. The writer also uses landscape to establish a geographical reference and a connection to the earth, strengthened by Coates’ research.
As John and Mary walk, they come across a cherry bush. While snacking, they encounter a big bull moose, which John shoots on the head with cherry stones. The moose leaves, uninjured but uninterested. As they continue, Mary explains to John that the moose was actually a sorcerer, “Remark what I say... Thou shalt see something more wonderful than this ere thou again comest to St-Francis River” (Masta, 44). Mary is warning John that he will see something spectacular before he returns to St-Francis River, foreshadowing the end of the story. After spending the winter “thereabouts” and “remained there until the latter part of the summer,” the duo begins the journey back the way they came. They eventually come to the cherry tree again, but it is different, elevated on a rock that is shaped like a “gourd.” When John climbs the rock and begins picking cherries, Mary soon hears him call for help. She runs up to his unconscious body and wakes him. “Just then the moose was walking away with the small elevation and the big cherry tree on his back and horns; at the same time John and Mary heard someone say: ‘Mary, Mary, John, Mary, Mary, John Loden, Mary Nigen” (Masta, 45). The story ends with Mary telling John that now he sees what a sorcerer can do. John responds, “It is so amazing that I can hardly believe it.”
There is literary intricacy involved in this story, which is meant to illustrate the interconnectivity between different peoples, as well as their connection with the earth. Through John and Mary’s travels and the landmarks mentioned, the story displays the relationship that humans share with earth and nature: people live in tandem with the earth, and it is where all life begins and ends. Descriptive language aids in the symbolism: the gourd is symbolic of the fruitfulness of nature and its ability to sustain life. The physical difference in the land, the “elevation,” symbolizes the malleability of nature and represents change as inevitable. The aggression of the moose is symbolic of the force of nature and its ability to fight back after being mistreated, so unstoppable and awesome that humans, like John, can hardly believe it. Through the combination of extensive language use (the story is presented in both Abenaki and in English), Masta promotes the use of native language, while at the same time passing on and revitalizing a legend of Abenaki culture and ideals of the native people even to non-speakers.
In conclusion, Henry Lorne Masta’s Abenaki Legends, Grammar, and Place Names serves not only as a dictionary of an imperiled language, but as a tool of revitalization of a culture, and decolonization through the expression of linguistic mechanics and the retelling of timeless legends. In The Oxford Handbook of Indigenous American Literature, author James Howard Cox credits Masta for revitalizing the Abenaki language:
Finally, a number of Native writers in the Northeast published or composed books, journals, and documents in their Indigenous languages, enabling, perhaps without knowing it, the revitalization movements of the late twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Odenak Abenaki writers, including Peter Paul Wzôkhilain, Joseph Laurent, and Henry Lorne Masta, published awikhiganak, Western Abenaki language books, designed for teaching their students English. These works are being used today by language teachers, creative writers, and community members on both sides of the border to continue an endangered language that has survived centuries of colonization (Cox 552).
With the inevitability of further decline among Abenaki speakers and therefore the language itself, it is authors and scholars like Henry Lorne Masta that can be credited with succeeding in resuscitating a struggling culture. In their determined and unwavering efforts, Masta and his peers have also inspired future generations to continue the work.
Brooks, Lisa Tanya. The Common Pot: The Recovery of Native Space in the Northeast. U of Minnesota Press, 2008.
Coates, Colin M. The Metamorphoses of Landscape and Community in Early Quebec. McGill-Queens Press, 2000.
Cox, James Howard, James H. Cox, and Daniel Heath Justice. The Oxford Handbook of Indigenous American Literature. Oxford University Press, 2014.
Grant, Anthony P. "Review of Western Abenaki Dictionary, Volume 1: Abenaki-English; Volume 2: English-Abenaki by Gordon M. Day." Anthropological Linguistics. 38.3 (1996): 576-8. JSTOR. Web. 14 August 2015.
Masta, Henry Lorne. Abenaki Indian Legends, Grammar and Place Names. La Voix des boisfrancs, 1932.
Nicolar, Joseph. The Life and Traditions of the Red Man: A Rediscovered Treasure of Native American Literature. Duke University Press, 2007.
]]>At first glance this basket might seem like a beautiful decoration or a cherished household item. While the basket is both of these things, there is a history and story behind it that is not immediately visible. Made by Abenaki Basketmaker, Liz Charlebois, out of sweet grass and ash splints, this basket represents generations of skilled Abenaki artisans that have perpetuated their culture through the traditional making of baskets (Charlebois). In fact, Abenaki women have been practicing the art of making baskets for hundreds of years (Calloway 37). Baskets became a necessary part of Abenaki culture because women had to travel long distances to pick and gather berries; baskets allowed the women to carry more supplies with less work. However, baskets became much more than carrying items, it became an important part of Abenaki economy and history (37). Although basket styles have changed throughout the years, their significance within Abenaki culture has not (Day).
Baskets are important to Abenaki culture not just because of their practicality and their value as an art form, but because of the stories that they hold (Charlebois). Whether these stories are of a personal nature or of a historical one, the basket serves as a record of friendship or of the past. While a basketmaker's materials of choice are ash splints, a storyteller's materials of choice are words that are woven together to form stories, histories, and records of relationships that exemplify their culture. In this way, storytellers and basketmakers are very similar. Along with being an accomplished basketmaker, Liz Charlebois is a storyteller that understands the connection between baskets, stories, and culture (Charlebois). One of the many stories that she tells emphasizes the relationship between the Abenaki, baskets, and nature:
In the old days life was very hard for the women within all of the villages. The women had to gather firewood, food, and medicinals with nothing but their hands and arms to carry with. They toiled long and hard and every working hour was devoted to these tasks. It took much effort and many trips from the village to the forest and back again before the women could rest for the night and they were always exhausted at the end of the day from all the toil and the repeated distances they had to travel with their goods. All the birds, beasts, trees, and all living things saw how hard the women worked. After a time on a very hot day a woman sat in the shade of an ash tree. The ash tree took pity and spoke to the woman, told her the certain way to make baskets and how to be grateful for this great gift to help the women with their work. The ash tree told the woman to always remember to be grateful for all that was given and taught her a song of thanks to sing. This woman taught the other women of the village how to make baskets to help carry their burdens and she taught them all how to sing the song of thanks. For many years afterwards the women were grateful and remembered the song to sing. The work became much easier and the women were happy for a time with their gift. Anyone could look out through the forest or the fields and they would see the women were happily gathering and singing as the baskets followed along behind carrying all of the women's burdens. After a time, the women began to take the great gift of the baskets for granted, they stopped singing the songs of thanks. The baskets began to think that their gift was no longer appreciated and they stopped following the women at their work. From that time until this time baskets have remained a true gift from the ash tree but no longer do they simply follow a woman at work but the women now carry the baskets, burden and all.
This story is a cautionary tale that underscores the importance of the appreciation of nature. The story attributes the first creation of a basket to the ash tree: an act that underscores the role of the ash tree in basketmaking (Charlebois). Without the ash tree, there are no baskets. The story encourages the Abenaki to be respectful to nature. Furthermore, it emphasizes the importance of sustainability within Abenaki culture. Nothing must be taken for granted. The Abenaki continue to keep sustainability an important part of their culture. In fact, as Joseph Bruchac explains, "it is important to remember the old stories when we consider the relationship today of Abenaki people to the land" (Bruchac 2). The land must be respected or there will be consequences. Even those who have not heard of this story understand that sustainability and basketmaking go hand in hand, whether by preserving ash trees or by using different materials all together.
In addition to the importance of sustainability, the story asserts that baskets have the power to archive a set of tenets for a culture. In other words, by looking at baskets we can understand a part of Abenaki culture. In many cultures, storytelling is used as a way of teaching children about nature, their heritage, and what has happened in their history. This is just as true in Abenaki culture.
This particular basket was made by Charlebois as a present for her brother. It expresses friendship and care. This simple act of giving a gift is one way to continue on the tradition of baskets. Charlebois also passes on the art of basketmaking to her daughter. Charlebois' daughter enjoys making bookmarks and baskets (Goff).
The story also makes a comment on the act of passing on stories and other traditions. For example, when the ash tree teaches the woman basketmaking, the tree also teachers her "a song of thanks" (Charlebois). The baskets only do the work for the women as long as they give thanks. However, as soon as they take the baskets for granted and forget to sing the song, they must once again carry their burden. By passing on cultural beliefs and other traditions, the Abenaki remember to always be thankful. The participation of the younger generation is imperative in preserving culture.
As Liz Charlebois explains, baskets are a prominent part of Abenaki history and contribute to culture by telling the story of that history (Goff). Stories can bring people closer together because it is a way of sharing feelings and stories of the past. Like stories, baskets also bring people of different backgrounds together through demonstrations, apprenticeships, and the stories that are attached to them.
Bruchac, Joseph. Rooted Like the Ash Trees: New England Indians and the Land. Ed. Richard G. Carlson. Naugatuck, Conn.: Eagle Wing, 1987. Print.
Calloway, Colin G., and Frank W. Porter. The Abenaki: Indians of North America. N.p.: Chelsea House, 1989. Print.
Charlebois, Liz. “Basket Making.” Message to Stephanie Gilkenson. 12 Apr. 2012. E-mail.
Day, Gordon M. In Search of New England’s Native Past: Selected Essays by Gordon M. Day. Univ of Massachusetts Pr, 1999. Print.
Goff, John. “Abenaki Basket-making.” http://www.wickedlocal.com/salem. Salem Gazette, n.d. Web. 19 Oct. 2012.
Ramsdell, Jared. Charlebois Baskets – 1. 2012. Photograph. Charlebois Baskets. Jared Ramsdell Photography. Jared Ramsdell, 2012. Web. 8 Oct. 2012.
Photo courtesy of Jared Ramsdell.
]]>The components of an Abenaki basket are not as simple as they appear to be. The amount of physical labor hiding behind even small baskets is immense, perhaps overwhelming for those not familiar with the process (Occaso). Among the multitude of patterns, shapes, and dyes, Brown Ash splints function as the backbone of many traditional Abenaki baskets (Bruchac). Because of the Ash tree’s vital role in the production of durable and beautiful baskets, the material must be treated as purely and sensibly as possible.
Few remaining individuals are able to complete the total basket making process, from Ash pounding to basket weaving. One of these individuals, Vermont resident Jesse Larocque, has illuminated the process of traditional native basketmaking, especially for those who lack a background in the material production ever-present behind the decorative result (Larocque, Interview). He has made the process of his work accessible and understandable, revealing the high degree of physical labor that Ash pounding entails. His subtle knowledge of the Brown Ash and its characteristics makes Jesse’s remarks on Ash pounding and splitting extremely important– both to the process of basket making, and for the preservation of traditional technique (Larocque, Interview). Through examining the Ash pounding process and what the tree produces, one can make sense of the various bare components that end up in a specific basket. To understand the Ash tree is to understand the backbone of each basket. And to understand Jesse’s work is to understand the Brown Ash.
The Brown Ash (or Black Ash) is extremely common and abundant throughout the Northeastern United States. Still, the species’ abundance does not ensure its preservation and protection. Keeping with perhaps the most sustainable practice possible, Jesse requests the harvest of individual trees from various landowners, as to maintain the original density of nearby forests (Larocque, Interview). These trees are most commonly found in swamps, though variations in water supply will produce slightly different internal characteristics, from hue to hardness (Larocque, Interview).
Once the tree is harvested, it must be cut into segments that ultimately determine the circumference of the basket (Larocque, Interview). During pounding, the log segment will start to delaminate and reveal stacked layers of wood. Jesse is able to select individual splints from specific layers of the Brown Ash as he hammers each growth ring (Larocque, Interview). The composition of each specific Ash tree is unique, and the subsequent result of pounding the tree yields splints with consistently different variations. These variations, in turn, dictate the strength, color, and final usage of specific splints. Jesse explained this sorting and matching in further detail during a recent interview:
Age of tree, thickness of growth rings, dry ground or wet ground. White or brown Ash. Sometimes you’ll get five different shades of brown from the tree depending on where it grew. You have to grade the tree by color profile. The tree has to be graded for thickness. Splints must be graded for a specialized piece of the basket. Plan ahead and don’t get excited.
After the splints are harvested and graded, the color and hardness of each splint will determine what sort of basket is created. Harder interior wood will make a more rugged basket (Larocque, Interview). Light and pliable outer wood will go on to form fancy, decorative components (Larocque, Interview). When, and only when this preparation has taken place can the basket be visualized and crafted.
Jesse is an extremely patient individual who is led by his work. He allows the basket making process to carry him in an organic and subjective manner from start to finish. His continuing skill outside of Ash pounding is especially evident in his pack basket. Because no two trees are ever alike, no two baskets are ever quite the same, and the pack basket is undoubtedly the clearest example of this dissimilarity. In fact, it is woven to fit the wearer: “I take the measurements for each person and build the basket around them” (Larocque, Interview). Each pack basket is roughly 20 inches tall and by no coincidence, one would find the same height upon measuring his or her own back. In this sense the product tells the story of the wearer and the craftsman. Furthermore, the pack basket is a reflection of Jesse’s skill for choosing appropriate material that will even outlive its ownership. These choices are evident in the pack’s construction: “The basket has a combination of continual weaves and regular stack weaves. The rim has a double lashing around the top. The entire basket uses thicker splints. It’s more durable that way” (Larocque, Interview). Because so many unpredictable factors enter Jesse’s approach, he must remain committed to his work, and prevent himself from doing more work than necessary. Even this excellent photograph does not offer a complete example of this basket’s true intricacy. When working with individually unique materials, frustration can easily arise out of the smallest problem.
To create such masterpieces like the pack basket, Jesse streamlines his splint collection through the use of simple tools that, in essence, reduce the probability of a bad outcome. In an exercise that places equal emphasis on process and product, care and simplification are two of the most important factors in baskets that are indeed “made by hand.” The result of this work-six full days to be exact-is a soundly woven pack that gently fits the slope of each wearer’s back with uncanny precision (Larocque). The tack-sharp accuracy and beauty of Jesse’s pack basket only hints at his tireless dedication to an increasingly esoteric craft.
In Jesse’s work and in Abenaki basketry, even the most decorated products are often grounded in practicality. That is, the function of each basket always tends to dictate its basic form. The stories and methods that reside in these products are a display of cultural ingenuity, emotion, and traditional sensibility. The function of these baskets, from an artifactual standpoint, is extremely rational and use-driven. This basket (though some would say it is too beautiful to use), would last countless years in the wilderness when treated properly. This same idea fits in all other cases: Berry baskets are, by nature of their shape, perfect for holding berries. An eel trap encroaches on a perfectly sized hole for just the desired catch.
Above all imaginable forms and uses, these baskets serve the amazingly larger purpose of explaining cultural subtleties: ideas and visions that simply can’t be communicated effectively through any other medium. They are physical illustrations of cultural traits that could not otherwise be explained. Therefore, each basket serves as a component of the Abenaki tradition and lifestyle. In continuing to pound ash and weave baskets, Jesse perpetuates his culture through a medium that transcends language boundaries. The basket can be held, examined, even sent to distant regions in hopes that others will understand its history. The basket is alive, and its life will inspire a sustainable cultural attitude, as long as we are willing to listen for its story.
Larocque, Jesse. “Abenaki Baskets by Jesse Larocque.” Abenakibaskets.com Black Ash Baskets, Hand Made by Abenaki Indian Jesse Larocque. N.p., n.d. Web. 15 Oct. 2012.
Larocque, Jesse. “Jesse Larocque: The Ash Pounding Process.” Telephone interview. 4 Oct. 2012.
“The NH-VT Abenaki Basketmakers Alliance.” Vermonters Concerned on Native American Affairs. N.p., 17 Jan. 2011. Web. 18 Oct. 2012.
Occaso, Carla. “Basket Maker Shares Traditional Native American Skills.” Vermonter.com. Vermonter.com, n.d. Web. 15 Oct. 2012.
Bruchac, Jesse Bowman., Joseph Alfred Elie. Joubert, and Jeanne A. Brink. L8dwaw8gan Wji Abaznodakaw8gan: The Language of Basket Making. Greenfield Center, NY: Bowman, 2010. Print.
The following videos are included as resources for those seeking additional illustration of the Ash pounding process. All videos courtesy of Jesse Larocque.
Video 1: Preparing a Black Ash log segment for pounding.
Video 2: Pounding the Ash tree segment and preparing raw splints.
Video 3: A close-up of splints delaminating as the Ash is pounded.
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