Apache Native American Tribute to the Planet
By Cyanna Mitchell
I remember watching my great- grandmother carefully skin a rabbit, her fingers were delicate and her eyes keen. She placed each bone to the side, lining them up as she went. She explained “if it must be killed, we must use every part, to thank the animal for its sacrifice.”
My family maintains that there is no such thing as ownership, we only borrow, so our energy must be returned one day.
They said our ancestors made up the stars, the tree’s, and the very land we stood on. Her ashes were given to the mountains over Yellowstone National Park, and I could almost feel her sigh of relief that she was returned to the Earth. When my grandfather spoke at her ceremony, he reminded us all that she would now adopt the speed of a wolf, the strength of a bear and the vision of an eagle.
In this context, my grandfather was not speaking literally. Instead, he was speaking of its higher purpose, which makes the language itself one of the most unique of its kind.
Everything has its own special message, and we must incorporate that message when referring to it, to honor it.
For example, the same anatomical term may have distinctly different referents. Thus, applied to humans, the term bikee denotes “foot” applied to horse’s “hoof” to bears “paw” (Basso, 1992). Therefore, instead of applying labels, the focus becomes its higher purpose.
My name is Cyanna, pronounced sigh-anna. When my mother was pregnant with me, she wanted to name me River. But, in a dream, she was told that my name would be Cyanna. Upon further investigation, she discovered that Cyanna is Apache for “blue sky”. When I think of my name in the context of my purpose, I am intrigued to see how I will use my natural born curiosity to solve ecosystem challenges to fulfill my purpose of a “blue sky”.
Since I was born I have interacted with what Hollywood calls “ghosts” or “the dead” but there has always been a yearning in my heart to talk about how inaccurate Hollywood’s depiction was. Maybe, it was simply the fact that my family didn’t want me to discuss their inaccuracy, that drove me to want to do it. Maybe it was the fact that I wanted affirmations for the things that I was experiencing. Looking back to my childhood, I’m not sure what I was looking for. But, as an adult, I know that I want to discuss the teachings of the Apache Native American tribe — including the taboos — because their philosophies are grounded in love and gratitude.
Native American’s have been misrepresented, isolated and killed throughout history. As Europeans settled across the United States, they demanded land, treasure, and religion. Most Natives were forced to change their religious beliefs — subjected to brutal torture by the European settlers. In an environment of “confinement, regimentation, a strange diet, sickness, and death — the ancestors’ religion had not been compromised; they maintained the relationship through time from the past to present without any loss of cultural identity” (Vecsey, 2005). It brings me pride to know that the Apache’s stood strong in their beliefs in the face of hatred. Several of the European Jesuits even converted to the Native American way of life. However, it brings me pain to know that many tribes who resentfully abided, were still brutalized, removed from their home land, and executed. Their teachings were not only ripped from the book, but re-written inaccurately, as the ultimate disrespect of a culture.
I am compelled to share my personal stories from my Apache family to provide insight for others that may benefit from their philosophies. I cannot speak for all Apache’s, just as a German cannot speak for all Germans. However, I will do my best to provide culturally accurate information, given the limited resources I have on them outside of my family (i.e.: a limited supply of culturally accurate history books).
We are living in a time where the Native American way of life may save us from the ultimate destruction of our planet. Mother earth is suffering. The rivers flow through her capillaries’ like sepsis, transferring the infection to the furthest crevasses of its bounds. Animals gather to the lakes for nourishment and find the remnants of its’ wrath, as toxic fish line the shores. The land is shaven, swollen raw and bare, pleading for water to stop the inflammatory pain of the lost. The arctic responds, tearing itself apart to end her agony, but floods her remaining supply of fresh water, further proliferating the pathogenic reaction.
We the people produce the infection. We manufacture it, spread it, and even encourage it. Mother earth will continue to exhaust her vital resources to protect us, but when her resources run dry, we will be the last remaining to carry the infection of demise. It is up to the people to change the trajectory of the planet and rewrite our defined meaning of life as we know it, so we may give back what we have taken by emulating the philosophies of the Native Americans.
References
Basso, Keith. (1992) Western Apache Language and Culture: Essays in Linguistic Anthropology. University of Arizona.
Vecsey, C. (2005). On the Bloody Road to Jesus: Christianity and the Chiricahua Apaches. Church History, 74(1), 184+. Retrieved from http://go.galegroup.com/ps/i.do?p=AONE&sw=w&u=tamp73569&v=2.1&it=r&id=GALE%7CA130970856&sid=googleScholar&asid=ee3dbab0024a5bfc6e60decb4fab3e3d
