Transmotion Vol 1, No 1 (2015)
Senier, Siobhan, ed. Dawnland Voices: An Anthology of Indigenous
Writing from New England. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2014.
716pp.
http://www.nebraskapress.unl.edu/product/Dawnland-Voices,675948.aspx
In what is surely among the most self-consciously edited
anthologies ever published, Siobhan Senier enlists the help of eleven
Indigenous community members—from ten tribal nations—to generate a
snapshot of "Native people's continuous presence" in northeastern North
America. The result of this editorial collaboration is more than just an
exciting new collection of Indigenous voices—though it is certainly that.
This is a volume that grapples earnestly and productively with prevalent notions
of what literary anthologies—and their editors—are capable of.
As a non-Native scholar of Indigenous literatures, Senier's
editorial self-consciousness is both refreshing and, one could easily argue, vital
to her task. In fact, the scholarly values outlined in her introduction—the
enthusiastic spirit of collaboration, the relative lack of academic ego, the
unconditional willingness to learn, and the steadfast commitment to a model of
editorial control that listens more that it speaks—reflect precisely what
has made Senier such a trusted and respected figure in northeastern Native studies
today. It would be misguided, she compellingly argues here, for a non-Native
editor to act as an intellectual invader of Indigenous cultural territory—to
perpetuate an academic doctrine of discovery in which Indigenous writers, however
well known among Native peoples or within tribal communities, are supposedly "found"
by outside scholars and then counted for "credit" within Western institutional
value structures. From Senier's perspective, this conventional model of
editorial practice would threaten to sever Native writers from their distinct community
contexts, disrupting and distracting from the important ways in which "tribal
literature connects people to homeland, kin, and neighbors, to tribal language,
histories, and traditions." Instead of acting as a compiler seeking to capture
and contain her subject, then, Senier acts as a conduit—or as a
facilitator alongside whom eleven impassioned community editors speak and
exhibit the works of their nations on their own terms.
These community editors provide brief but dynamic
introductions before each of the volume's ten sections, which Senier organizes first
by tribal nation and then from north to south. Jaime Battiste invokes the late
Rita Joe in his introduction, appropriately stressing the importance that
Mi'kmaq peoples actively "create writing, instead of just being written about."
Juana Perley reflects on the frustrations that Maliseet peoples on both sides
of what is now the Canada/U.S. border have faced when dealing with powerful settler
governments who are simultaneously meddlesome and unresponsive. And after describing
the natural beauty and power of traditional Passamaquoddy territory, Donald
Soctomah pays homage to an equally mighty people who "bravely have been battling
against assimilation into the European civilization" for centuries—a
nation in which youth leaders of late have been working hard to revive the old
ways. Carol Dana describes a thriving Penobscot literary tradition that "has
been passed down to us by our elders mostly, but also in written records"—through
stories, petroglyphs, etchings, birch bark maps, rock markings, and mnemonic
devices. And Lisa Brooks eloquently explains how Kwinitekw, or the Connecticut
River, functions as the "central character" throughout the selected Abenaki
writings, connecting "the people and places of the Abenaki 'home country'"
across time and distance.
Next, Cheryl Watching Crow Stedtler describes and justifies
her "addiction" to Nipmuc country, inviting the readers of these selections to
"journey with us and walk our path." Joan Tavares Avant (Granny Squannit)
introduces writings by the Mashpee Wampanoag and the Wampanoag of Gay Head,
providing brief histories for each tribe before emphasizing the crucial role
that writing can play in communicating the oft-neglected perspectives of tribal
peoples. Introducing the Narragansett writings, Dawn Dove urges readers to
"hear the historical grief in our voice"—and she speaks powerfully of the
challenges her people have always faced when attempting to communicate with
Euroamerican populations who would rather believe their own lies than listen. Stephanie
M. Fielding introduces writings connected by "a love for Mohegan" and "a
compassionate eye for the land and its inhabitants." And finally, Trudie Lamb
Richmond and Ruth Garby Torres introduce key writings from the three major
families of the Schaghticoke tribe—Harris, Cogswell, and Kilson.
Each of the ten sections ends with a list of recommendations
for further reading, and while the selections that are presented here span
centuries—from shortly after the arrival of Europeans in the northeast to
the present day—each chapter inevitably contains "large historical gaps"
that Senier hopes readers will take as invitations to dig deeper. She also
notes that a number of northeastern nations are absent from the volume
entirely. Hopefully, these invitations will lead readers to the anthology's
sister website, Writing of Indigenous New
England (indigenousnewengland.com), an initiative that grew out of the
editors' understandably difficult decisions about what to include in the pages
of Dawnland Voices and what to set
aside. This exciting ongoing process of what Senier calls "web-based
anthologizing" involves many of the same editors mentioned above, along with
other northeastern Native writers, historians, and community members, who
together are working to upload, annotate, and share cultural materials for
public view.
This online initiative represents what is perhaps the most
revolutionary aspect of Senier's approach as editor, and in her introduction,
she urges her "colleagues at other universities" to likewise "partner with
tribal historians, authors, museums, and other entities to produce new
knowledge about regional indigenous literary traditions." She asks the readers
of Dawnland Voices to imagine the
volume as a hub, out from which come multiple "spokes"—the collaborative
bibliography at the end of each chapter, the online exhibit space, and the
associative activity taking place on various social networking sites. Again,
Senier reminds us that this is not a book that tries to contain its topic; rather,
it makes connections outwards into the universe. It speaks to its readers, and
it invites those readers to speak back—to engage, to invest, to fill in
the silences, to actively contribute.
It is curious that Senier uses the term "New England" in her
title to refer to the northeast in its entirety—an area that includes
territory that has never been part of what is usually referred to as New
England. As an inhabitant of what is now known as Atlantic Canada, I would be
interested to hear Senier's explanation for this usage. In the end, this is a very
minor criticism. Dawnland Voices is
the product the many years Senier has spent working tirelessly to build
partnerships between Native communities and the classroom, and the significance
of her efforts in this regard is reflected by the beauty of her achievement.
Whether she would accept such "credit" for this volume is immaterial: we will give
it to her anyway.