Reflections from an Iroquois Woman during the Era of Colonization
I am the heartbeat of my people. As I sit along the shore of Lake Ontario, soaking in the warmth of the sun, feeling the breeze blow across my skin, and watching our children discover the abundance Mother Nature has gifted us; I reflect on the impact my spirit has on my clan and the generations to come. My voice is powerful, heard and supported. The opinions and wisdom I carry with me are valued within my community. My body is strong, respected and celebrated. I am a resilient Iroquois woman worthy of honor. This simple way of life and basic rights that are bestowed upon me by my people appear to be trivial to white women who have encroached on our territory. After observing these new immigrants, I have come to learn that characteristics often overlooked by European men were highly sought after by white female settlers who envy the power I possess within my culture: respect and a voice.
If only I could give them a glance of how precious my life is. I may start by sharing how our way of life is community focused. Our families live together in longhouses overseen by a clans elder women. Within our longhouses is all of our extended family. Much like our white counterparts, we are also the keepers of our homes but with stark differences. Men and women work together. Though our men are responsible for hunting and trapping of beaver, it is my duty to prepare the fur. We retain some for ourselves and negotiate the rest to European fur traders who become more aggressive and demanding with each rotation of the sun. We show our respect to our original life source, Mother Earth, whom we hold sacred the bounties she returns to us and only take what we are given. Within my village, I am an agriculturalist specializing in the farming of beans, squash and corn affectionately referred to as the Three Sisters.(1) Our crops sustain the nearly 30,000 people of our nation. Being so close to the harvest also provided us with the responsibility to provision our warriors during times of battle. In addition to farming, our days are filled with skillful purpose by weaving nets that were used to catch trout or crafting baskets to help carry our harvest. We worked hard but communally.
To the oppressed white women, if you haven’t already noticed, I want to share with you the significant ways in which my Iroquois nation further differs from your way of life. The foundations of our clans are built on the basis of a matrilocal and matrilineal society. We are in control of our own bodies. Our marriages are fluid and it is customary for men to leave their family to join their wives clan. Identity and rights to the use of land within each clan are passed down through the mother’s bloodline as opposed to the father’s. Be it society or human life, an Iroquois woman’s being is not ignored before, during, or after creation. Within my community I am reminded that my body is strong, respected and celebrated.
As I have referenced on more than one occasion, our nation gives praise and thanks to our divine Mother Earth. We are honored in a ceremony four times a year with the changing of the seasons.(1) Because of the understanding and respect that Iroquois women have to our creator, we too, are held in high regard by our people. Some of us serve as spiritual advisors and leaders where we interpret dreams and actively participate in rituals. The opinions and wisdom I carry with me are valued within my community.
Another unique aspect of the power Iroquois women hold is that even though our chiefs were always men, they could not be selected without the oversight of our clan mothers’ nomination. There are three qualifications that determine a nomination. The first is that men cannot have committed theft, they cannot have committed a murder, and lastly they cannot have sexually assaulted a woman.(1) We work with our men to ensure we maintain our sovereign nation. My voice is powerful, heard and supported.
Our men uplift and empower us and in return we do the same for them. There is mutual respect; a balance. It is my understanding that your people do not function this way. European men dominate over your families and women are reminded they are second to their husbands. Men who beat their women would not be tolerated in our society. Instead they would be publicly reprimanded. I wonder how much shame you must carry when raped by your own husband. To be forced into submission and not have any chance of inheritance or security should the marriage end. How does one live with the uncertainty that they may lose their child at any moment due to the laws written by men for the benefit of men? How can a society move beyond mere survival when they deem women with authority or prestige as witches? Do your people not see the pain they are causing?
Still it seems this lifestyle is attractive to some of my Iroquois sisters, who have chosen to live, work alongside, and have children with British, French and Dutch men. Knowing the value of the land which we inhabit, my Iroquois sisters have become prized assets as translators for the increasing European population. One cannot help but wonder if my fellow sisters are betraying our people. As the landscape changes, new self-serving wars are waged. This time the war involves my native brothers and sisters, Europeans and those from which they escaped. Are my Iroquois sister’s agents of change rather than protectors of culture?(2) Does their influence over whether or not to go to war bare the same weight in their new settlements? Do they realize the devastating losses we suffer from? What of our future generations? In the end, what kind of life are we leaving them? In an increasing climate of destruction, disease, and starvation, my responsibilities to maintain our community increase as our men’s absences are prolonged.
It is only a matter of time until we are weakened and succumb to a new federal power. A society that I did not envy nor had any desire to be a part of is now being forced upon me. Today I walk on the same path as the white women who once glorified our Iroquois female sovereignty. Though I maintain my domestic, now gender conforming roles, such as food preparation, childbearing and childrearing; I have also been tasked with the duty of spinning and weaving. With a heavy heart, I comply. I am not given any other choice. Meaningful purpose has been drained from mine and my people’s lives. As a result domestic violence has increased within our community with the introduction of alcohol. Native men have fallen victim to this powerful liquid potion and women are suffering at their hands.
I lost my land, my people, and my voice. I am diminished to nothing more than a soulless, human shell. As an Indian woman I was free. I owned my home, my person, the work of my own hands, and my children could never forget me. I was better as an Indian woman than under white law.(1) Would these new developing nations improve if indigenous practices were acknowledged and accepted instead of colonized and exploited? Deep inside I must remember I am still the heartbeat of my people. I am valuable. I am resilient. I will continue to weather this storm and persevere so that future generations may know who they are and where they came from.
References
1. Wagner, Sally Roesch. “IS EOUALITY INDIGENOUS?” On The Issues Magazine. On The Issues Magazine, 1996. https://www.ontheissuesmagazine.com/1996winter/winter1996_WAGNER.php.
2. Kidwell, Clara Sue. "Indian Women as Cultural Mediators." Ethnohistory 39, no. 2 (1992): 97-107. Accessed February 22, 2021. doi:10.2307/482389.
3. Historic and Current Haudenosaunee Territory. HonorTheTwoRow.org. Neighbors of the Onondaga Nation, 2013. http://honorthetworow.org/learn-more/haudenosaunee-territory/.
4. Ta'Kaiya Blaney Singing Womens Warrior Song May 5, 2019. YouTube. YouTube, 2019. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WeNJnItj5rs.
