Post by blackcrowheart on Mar 26, 2007 20:28:16 GMT -5
'Where are your women?' Look around
By MARK TRAHANT <mailto:marktrahant@seattlepi.com>
P-I EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR
seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/299514_trahant14.html?source=rss
<http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/299514_trahant14.html?source=rss>
We had a first in Washington last week, the swearing in of one new state
senator, Claudia Kauffman from Kent. She's the first Native American
woman to be elected to that body.
The "why" of that being a first is part of our evolution; we the people
are learning to be more human.
Wilma Mankiller, the first elected female chief of Oklahoma's Cherokee
Tribe, once said in a speech at Emory University that when the United
States first sent its treaty negotiation team to the Cherokees, one of
the initial questions was: "Where are your women?" Cherokee women often
accompanied their leaders at important ceremonies and negotiations --
and it was inconceivable that the representatives from the federal
government would come alone. How can you negotiate anything with only
half your people or half a way of thinking?
"Where are your women?" is a question that this nation is slowly
answering with a "here." It's a question that shrinks in relevance every
time a first disappears: speaker of the U.S. House, check. Vice
president, president, inevitable.
"Where are your women?" sounds like a trick question in Washington
state. Where? Everywhere. The list grows: governor, both U.S. senators,
U.S. House, state Senate majority leader and dozens of political
offices. And yet there are still firsts in our continuing evolution.
In Olympia last week, there was a ceremonial reception for Kauffman, who
is a member of the Nez Perce Tribe, and other Native Americans elected
to the Legislature. That wonderful event included two powerful symbols
that demonstrate how far we've come and why this one-less first still
matters.
One symbol was hearing from an equal number of male and female
"witnesses." One of those speakers was Carla Gonzalez. She is Kauffman's
sister and a former member of the Nez Perce Tribal Council of Idaho.
Gonzalez said the first woman was elected to that tribal body in 1957.
Today, that tribe is led by Rebecca Miles, who passed another first,
winning election as chairwoman of the Nez Perce Tribal Executive
Committee.
Another symbol was placing traditional woven blankets on the floor of
Evergreen State College's Longhouse for Kauffman and her colleagues to
stand, a platform representing all those who had come before.
The story that could be told through those threads is rich and
compelling, ranging from the violent conquest of the West to the state's
more recent fish wars.
Indeed, in many ways, it's hard to imagine this first occurring in
Washington state because it was not that long ago that this state was
widely known as "the Mississippi of Indian Country," the frontline in
the war over salmon, tribal sovereignty and culture.
But Washington found balance -- and today there is a partnership between
tribes and the state's government that works together on issues ranging
from salmon recovery to the health of Puget Sound.
But that's why the power of those stories -- the ones symbolized through
those blankets -- is so significant because it was native women who were
deeply involved in those issues, leaders such as Lucy Covington, Janet
McCloud and Ramona Bennett. And the sustained work of Seattle's American
Indian Women's Service League was one of the first post-World War II
groups to redefine and empower a native community in an urban area. The
league's work made Seattle "home" for thousands and thousands of people
who moved to the city from reservations.
To me, this is why this first matters. In our quest to be more human it
is we -- especially we men -- who need a world in balance. We need
governments that represent all citizens and all of our ways of thinking.
We need a world where it's inconceivable that someone would ever need to
ask, "Where are your women?"
"Where are your women?" Mankiller raised again in her speech at Emory.
"We must continue to ask the question until the answer is 'Wherever they
want to be.' "
Or, perhaps, wherever we need them to be.
By MARK TRAHANT <mailto:marktrahant@seattlepi.com>
P-I EDITORIAL PAGE EDITOR
seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/299514_trahant14.html?source=rss
<http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/299514_trahant14.html?source=rss>
We had a first in Washington last week, the swearing in of one new state
senator, Claudia Kauffman from Kent. She's the first Native American
woman to be elected to that body.
The "why" of that being a first is part of our evolution; we the people
are learning to be more human.
Wilma Mankiller, the first elected female chief of Oklahoma's Cherokee
Tribe, once said in a speech at Emory University that when the United
States first sent its treaty negotiation team to the Cherokees, one of
the initial questions was: "Where are your women?" Cherokee women often
accompanied their leaders at important ceremonies and negotiations --
and it was inconceivable that the representatives from the federal
government would come alone. How can you negotiate anything with only
half your people or half a way of thinking?
"Where are your women?" is a question that this nation is slowly
answering with a "here." It's a question that shrinks in relevance every
time a first disappears: speaker of the U.S. House, check. Vice
president, president, inevitable.
"Where are your women?" sounds like a trick question in Washington
state. Where? Everywhere. The list grows: governor, both U.S. senators,
U.S. House, state Senate majority leader and dozens of political
offices. And yet there are still firsts in our continuing evolution.
In Olympia last week, there was a ceremonial reception for Kauffman, who
is a member of the Nez Perce Tribe, and other Native Americans elected
to the Legislature. That wonderful event included two powerful symbols
that demonstrate how far we've come and why this one-less first still
matters.
One symbol was hearing from an equal number of male and female
"witnesses." One of those speakers was Carla Gonzalez. She is Kauffman's
sister and a former member of the Nez Perce Tribal Council of Idaho.
Gonzalez said the first woman was elected to that tribal body in 1957.
Today, that tribe is led by Rebecca Miles, who passed another first,
winning election as chairwoman of the Nez Perce Tribal Executive
Committee.
Another symbol was placing traditional woven blankets on the floor of
Evergreen State College's Longhouse for Kauffman and her colleagues to
stand, a platform representing all those who had come before.
The story that could be told through those threads is rich and
compelling, ranging from the violent conquest of the West to the state's
more recent fish wars.
Indeed, in many ways, it's hard to imagine this first occurring in
Washington state because it was not that long ago that this state was
widely known as "the Mississippi of Indian Country," the frontline in
the war over salmon, tribal sovereignty and culture.
But Washington found balance -- and today there is a partnership between
tribes and the state's government that works together on issues ranging
from salmon recovery to the health of Puget Sound.
But that's why the power of those stories -- the ones symbolized through
those blankets -- is so significant because it was native women who were
deeply involved in those issues, leaders such as Lucy Covington, Janet
McCloud and Ramona Bennett. And the sustained work of Seattle's American
Indian Women's Service League was one of the first post-World War II
groups to redefine and empower a native community in an urban area. The
league's work made Seattle "home" for thousands and thousands of people
who moved to the city from reservations.
To me, this is why this first matters. In our quest to be more human it
is we -- especially we men -- who need a world in balance. We need
governments that represent all citizens and all of our ways of thinking.
We need a world where it's inconceivable that someone would ever need to
ask, "Where are your women?"
"Where are your women?" Mankiller raised again in her speech at Emory.
"We must continue to ask the question until the answer is 'Wherever they
want to be.' "
Or, perhaps, wherever we need them to be.