The intriguing nature about truths is their tendency to resurface. 

Frida Kahlo once said something about sorrow, which could also be applied to truth.

“I tried to drown my sorrows, but they learned how to swim.” 

Truths also tend to learn how to swim.

Swimming truths came to light for me while reading a story about memory jugs, from a freedom colony in Bastrop county, documented in the Austin American Statesman on June 15, 2023. Freedom colonies were communities founded by freed men and women who fled their enslavements after the Civil War to set up productive places where they could live out their days with their families, outside of the grasp of those who had sought to oppress them in the past. 

A Forgotten Legacy

This AAS story introduced us to the decedent’s loving tradition of creating and handing down these memory jugs. Originating from Africa, memory jugs were vessels decorated with photos, shells or jewels, with the intention of honoring deceased loved ones. From Africa, to Bastrop, through centuries of tribulation, memory jugs remain a vital part of these communities’ heritage and traditions. 

There were dozens of these Freedom Colonies within a 100 mile radius of where I sit today, in Austin, TX. Yet, until recently, I was unaware of them until their stories emerged back to the forefront not that long ago. 

Unearthing the Past

In a similar fashion, I am becoming more aware of indigenous issues in our community. For instance, once lost memories are revealing themselves in the form of long forgotten graves all over Texas, from the dunes of Corpus Christi, to the suburbs of Austin (Austin Aptazi Pil'). 

Even the iconic Alamo site bears witness to the resting places for indigenous inhabitants who once lived there, yet their presence remains unacknowledged, and their remains without repatriation or reverence. 

There is a palpable absence of respect for these sacred sites, coupled with an alarming lack of invitation to our current friends and neighbors who are the direct descendants of the very people interred at these locations. Sadly, some of our leaders seem determined to keep these lives and cultures concealed.

While my ancestry does not trace back to any indigenous heritage, I am invested in the story unfolding here. As a modern citizen, I sense that certain intrinsic values which may have faded over time are now poised for rediscovery. Additionally, I feel a sense of responsibility to help reconcile some of the actions of my own faith community which ran many of the Indian Schools across North America; institutions that participated in the forced separation of Native American children from their families and culture. This story of the Indian Boarding Schools is now swimming back up to the surface of our community collective consciousness (see recent PBS report). 

Nurturing Authentic Histories and Cultural Wisdom

But it's not just about reconciling the past. Practices such as the passing on of memory jugs can imbed our past into our future. Ancient paleolithic cave drawings, such as the White Shaman, adorning the banks of the Devils River in southwest Texas, resonate with a wisdom and insight which I may not comprehend, yet recognize as vital. These insights are not only essential to know more about where we have been, but also to help guide us all to where we are going.

The stories of the dead, the forgotten, of those cultures and communities on whose soil we now stand, should not be reimagined, repackaged, and presented as an authentic experience without the leadership of the Native and Indigenous Community. Only if they are at the helm of these discussions may we delve more deeply into the true histories of our communities, as opposed to the mythical narratives that are presented expeditiously. As other histories emerge, like truths swimming back to the surface, we can more fully observe the artifacts of our shared cultural identity.

The story of the memory jugs, the veneration of indigenous people’s sacred burial sites and, yes, even the acknowledgement of the tragedies of the Indian Boarding Schools, speak not only to the human desire to forge connections with our “past” as a sweeping cultural concept, but also to infuse it with humanity.

These rekindled memories illuminate the fact that these ancestors were living, breathing individuals, just like us. It's as if they extend a hopeful hand, with the belief that some day, there will be someone, perhaps one of us, to reach back, bridging the temporal gap to clasp their hand in kinship.

We have the ability and indeed, the collective obligation, to restore authentic histories and cultural wisdoms which have been submerged for generations. It turns out, truths really are good swimmers. Let’s embrace that. 

Celebrating Unity

November is Indigenous People’s Month. On Saturday, November 18th, the annual Austin Pow Wow is held, when many different Native American communities come together to celebrate the largest one-day powwow in the United States, held at the Travis County Expo Center. Chief Joseph, of the Nez Perce tribe, was known for his greeting at such events, saying: 

“We may be from different tribes, but we all live under one sky.”  

Indigenous Peoples month is a good time to reflect on the significant contributions of Indigenous Peoples in our community and to deepen our relationships with each other as we to come together to celebrate that we are all here, together, in this place and time, under this one sky.

I am grateful for the insights and collaboration of fellow Austinite, Skye Howell,  a member of the Potawatomi/Ottawa Tribe.