Just outside of the San Gabriel Mission
on October 27th, 2015 over thirty inter tribal Native
American Indians gathered in solidarity and prayer of “The Walk for
the Ancestors 2015,” a seven hundred mile pilgrimage to each of the
twenty one California Missions to honor the indigenous ancestors who
suffered and died in the mission system. I myself was included in
that evening, which by the way I must point out that I am not Native
American although I have always had a strong connection in defending
the rights of America's first people since I was sixteen years old
writing letters to Senator McGovern during the FBI standoff at
Wounded Knee in the early 1970's.
So it was no surprise to me when I
too showed up on the grass lawn just adjacent to the San Gabriel
Mission. The first encounter I had was an Indian who welcomed me and
warmly and hospitably took my hand and guided me as we were all told
to stand in a huge circle. There was a burning of sage and then then
a tobacco blessing prior to a woman who would speak to everyone
present turning herself around periodically as she spoke to each
person aligned within the circle.
Her name is Caroline Holland she is
walking for her ancestors along with her twenty one year old son.
Together they have walked over six hundred miles to different
Missions with even more walking a head of them. Every Mission had
given Caroline a distinct story to tell. As I stood there I listened
intently to this petite Indian woman speak of the mass graves that
were at the Missions, none of them with a name marker of anyone
buried there. A jar filled with bones of deceased American Indians
sat on the counter at one Mission with a label on it that read,
“Please do not collect any bones.” apparently there were too many
to count and they were scattered all around the grounds.
After hearing Caroline speak, each
person that stood within the circle was asked to introduce themselves
and speak a little about what “Walking for the Ancestors, meant to
them” Once again I was taken back and at times I was having
difficulty in composing myself without having a tearful emotional
response.
A man spoke of his great
grandmother who attended one of the Mission schools and told stories
about how the white children sat in the front of the class in seats
while the Mexican children sat in the back of the class and the
Indian children were made to sit on the floor. His great grandmother
it seems was approached by a Mission priest in an attempted rape that
frightened her so much she never returned, but those that were caught
after attempting to run away were tied to a tree and wrapped in
animal skin until they suffocated as an example to the others of what
would happen to them if they too attempted to escape. Each person had
a story to tell and it was heartbreaking.
And they wept, every person that
spoke within the circle broke down and wept. They hugged one another
with support and I knew as I stood there that I was compelled to
write it all down, for this is not only our California history but
also our present day reality.
Not only did Jesus speak of the
love due to our neighbor but he also said, “Beware of wolves in
sheep's' clothing.” Then too is there common sense and human
decency that transcends the duality in religion into what is
downright imperative, and that being that our first American's be
treated with the same respect and honor that they gave to our
ancestors who were allowed to partake in pure drinking waters and
healthy food. There is much repair needed right here, right now.
California Healing, author, Patricia Huff copyright 2015.