365betÌåÓýÔÚÏßÊÀ½ç±­

PHOENIX � The consequences of American colonialism still reverberate throughout urban Indigenous communities. From the dissolution of languages inherent to Native American cultures in the Southwest to the forced abandonment of Native traditions and practices, urban Indigenous communities are still making concerted efforts to reclaim their cultures and heritage.

Elicia Goodsoldier stood in front of a group of nearly 50 Indigenous people on a Saturday in June to initiate the Phoenix Indian Center’s first “Wiping of Tears� ceremony. It is a community grieving ceremony, originating from the Lakota Nation, and traditionally known as Istamniya Wicakicipakinta Pi.

“So many people from our language and culture programming really carry a lot of grief,� Goodsoldier said. “And that heaviness, that trauma that they’re carrying, that almost prevents them from being able to take in the language, to take in the teachings.�

Whether it is due to community violence, the sober living home scandal or the missing and murdered Indigenous relatives, such as the tragic story of Emily Pike, the Indigenous community in the Valley has suffered tremendously in recent years.

Getting back to their roots

Rather than continue suffering individually throughout these losses, Goodsoldier and the Phoenix Indian Center saw an opportunity to not only pull the community together but also to reinforce the need for traditional practices and customs.

“Being here in the Valley, I’ve watched relatives who were suffering from the sober living home scandals, where 2,000 relatives either died in the sober living homes or are currently missing,� said Goodsoldier, who serves as the Language and Culture Program Coordinator for the Phoenix Indian Center.

These losses have been a continued hindrance to participation in cultural programming, Goodsoldier said.

Goodsoldier is a member of the Navajo Nation, and she also belongs to the Spirit Lake Dakota Sioux Tribe. Having roots in North and South Dakota, she was aware of ceremonies like the Wiping of Tears, and she knew they would be essential in helping the community recover.

And the Phoenix Indian Center leadership agreed.

Goodsoldier offered an apology to her elders for speaking before them in a public setting, yet nobody in the audience intervened or criticized her. It seemed as if, in the solemn moment, everybody knew what she was saying was more than necessary.

After a brief introduction, the group worked its way outside, and the ceremony began. The smoke from burning sage was brought around to each person in the group circle.

Chokecherry tea and Wasna -- a combination of dried buffalo meat, chokecherries and tallow or fat -- were offered to the group.

Delaney Apple (Oglala Lakota) and her family led the ceremony.

“We are all related,� Apple said.

The ceremony was meant to provide a safe space for all who gathered that day.

“To cry is a way that we heal ourselves,� Apple said. “And to pray means to send a cheerful appeal to the creator.�

Everyone in attendance gathered in a large circle, and a microphone was passed around to each person who felt a passion to share the experiences and situations that had brought them to the ceremony.

Varied experiences, similar sufferings

Parents spoke about the agony of losing their children, and children spoke about the suffering that comes with losing their parents.

One young woman from the Southern Ute Indian Tribe in Southwest Colorado shared how she had lost her older brother to a drug overdose when he was 25. Now, at the same age that he was when he died, she said she has lost over 10 relatives to suicide as well.

Another participant, Hector Ortiz, who is from the Oglala Lakota Tribe and is half first-generation Mexican American, used the moment to speak on the significance of ceremonies such as these to Indigenous people.

“Grieving and trauma don’t just stop here. � I wish this were a weekly thing where we could all get together and heal,� Ortiz said.

Relatives from a diversity of tribal backgrounds were in attendance. Some came from places as far as the Rosebud Service Unit in South Dakota, others from Native lands much closer, such as Window Rock, Arizona, or Gallup, New Mexico.

Kimberly Johnson, originally from Durango, Colorado, spoke to the group about trauma that they had been carrying for over 20 years. The toll has had immeasurable effects on their life.

“It feels like your soul is bleeding,� Johnson said. “It was really hard because it was someone that I respected, looked up to, cared for and loved that put me in the situation.�

Johnson said that the grief they felt was due to the loss of innocence and the loss of somebody they cared about.

Since the late 1970s and following the pan-Indian activism of that period there has been an erasure of individual Native cultures, but it also highlighted the interconnectedness between members of different tribes, and that they hope that it “affords space for healing where healing has been denied for a long time,� Johnson said.

Laurita Anderson, who came from Fort Defiance, Arizona, told the group that she had lost two siblings and her husband in just the past eight months.

“I’m so grateful we can still come together as a community, even if it is within this concrete jungle,� Anderson said.

Fixing what’s been broken

Urban Indigenous communities throughout the Valley are working to find a balance between contemporary modern society and Native traditional ways of life; between who they are spiritually and where they are physically.

Goodsoldier said this is not uncommon, as federal Indian policy has systemically eradicated everything from Native languages to traditional grieving practices.

“We were removed from our traditional homelands,� Goodsoldier said. “When the removal from our traditional homelands happened, that disconnection happened, and the way we handled that trauma and grief no longer existed for us.�

It is no coincidence that the ceremony took place a short walk away from the original site of the Phoenix Indian School, where assimilation to Euro-American culture was forced upon countless numbers of Indigenous youth for nearly 100 years.

There are still no official records detailing just how many Indigenous children were forced to attend the Phoenix Indian School, but sources state that hundreds of students attended each year from 1891 until its closure in 1990.

“When it comes to the many relatives that live here in the Valley and urban areas, many of them have been here for generations simply because of the Indian relocation era that started in the late 1950s,� Goodsoldier said.

Without access to their homelands, their parents or grandparents, Goodsoldier said these teachings have been broken, and they’ve been broken for hundreds of years.

Of the 574 federally recognized tribes across the United States, the Indian Center serves over 90 of those tribes, according to Goodsoldier.

While identifying the proper grief resolution for each of those tribes may be a daunting task, Goodsoldier said that it’s imperative for the community to start somewhere.

“We’re trying to reclaim those teachings and bring them back to our relatives,� Goodsoldier said. “We have to rekindle that fire that’s within us, and we do that by doing this.�