Witnessing Native Sovereignty in Action
Last night, my wife Jolene and I found ourselves at the Maritime Museum in Astoria, drawn there by the launch of Voices of the River Volume 4, a literary journal celebrating the writings and artwork of Native creators from Northwest Tribes. I had learned about the event from our local librarian in Cathlamet, who knew of my work with Indigenous communities, but I arrived with little understanding of how or where local tribes gather. The anticipation was mixed with humility, knowing I was stepping into a space that was not my own.
Shortly after entering, the sound of drumming and singing enveloped us. Having been away from Alaska for six months, I felt a deep longing for these rhythms, the way the drum’s resonance moves through your body, connecting you to something larger than yourself. It was a powerful reminder of what I’d been missing, a reconnection not just to music, but to a sense of belonging and cultural continuity.
The heart of the evening unfolded during a panel discussion with Native writers and artists. Here, I witnessed Native sovereignty in action, exercised, respected, and embraced. The panelists spoke with clear ownership of their stories, histories, and creative work. One writer, Sage Hatch, shared his nonfiction piece, “Imagining a Curriculum of Survivance.” He began by naming the reality that classrooms have often marginalized Indigenous students, perpetuating myths of American exceptionalism and a simplified national identity. Yet, he emphasized, Indigenous communities still see education as a vital tool for building their futures, reclaiming space and voice within systems that have historically excluded them.
The event itself was a testament to this resilience. The room was filled with Native Ph.D. holders, historians, and tribal advocates, individuals working tirelessly for resources and the recognition of their communities’ sovereignty. Their presence challenged any lingering stereotypes about Indigenous capacity for academic and professional achievement, offering living proof of excellence and advocacy.
During the Q&A, a local geologist asked about the land stories he’d heard, stories that were shaping his own understanding of the region. Rachel Cushman of the Chinook Nation, who facilitated the panel, responded with gratitude and gravity. She explained that these stories are sacred, many forming the core of creation narratives that must be protected. Too often, such stories have been stolen, distorted, or retold inaccurately by non-Native voices. I cannot fully capture the strength of her response, but witnessing her commitment to reclaiming and safeguarding her people’s stories was deeply moving. The responsibility she carried was palpable, a reminder of the ongoing work required to protect Indigenous knowledge from appropriation.
As the panel concluded, an event coordinator who had worked with this group for a decade shared a crucial detail: every aspect of the publication, from writing to peer review, was Indigenous-led. This was not mere inclusion; it was a living example of Indigenous intellectual sovereignty, where Native voices directed the process at every stage.
Attending this event left me both grateful and reflective. As a non-Native working in Native communities, often in positions of authority, I am reminded that my most important role is to build capacity among Native students and leaders. These communities do not need outsiders to lead them; they need space for their own leadership, input, and decision-making. My work must focus on recognizing Indigenous capability and facilitating their transition to full self-determination. True allyship means knowing when to step forward in support and, more importantly, when to step back in respect.
When Indigenous communities are given the space to lead, their excellence and sovereignty shine. Our responsibility, as non-Native allies, is to ensure that space continues to grow, honoring the wisdom, resilience, and leadership that have always been present, and learning, always, from those who have been here since time immemorial.
