Yellow Woman and a Beauty of Spirit

“In those days, everyone watched out for everyone else’s children, especially the little ones.”

Silko stresses the importance of community within the Pueblo culture. There is a sense of communal responsibility in the development of children, a serious and deep-seated belief that it does in fact take a village to raise a child. This idea of community further exemplifies the Pueblo belief in the necessity of interconnectivity in order to survive. However, this quotation also demonstrates that this is perhaps no longer the case via the prepositional phrase at the beginning of the sentence: “In those days.” 

“I have always felt safer alone in the hills than I feel when I am around people. Humans are the most dangerous of all animals, that’s what my mother said […]I still trust the land—the rocks, the shrubs, the cactus, the rattlesnakes, and the mountain lions—far more than I trust human beings. I never feel lonely when I walk alone in the hills: I am surrounded with living beings, with these sandstone ridges and lava rock hills full of life.”

Unlike humans, who are dangerous, Silko deeply trusts the land and the living beings within it. Although humans are a part of this environment, Silko conceptualizes humanity as somehow separate from the landscape, or at the very least less trustworthy than the landscape. This is interesting, because it would appear to be in direct conflict with the narrator’s previous assertions of the homogeneity of the environment, animals, and human beings. However, perhaps this quotation does not conflict with the interconnectivity, but rather expands upon human’s positionality in relation to the landscape and living and nonliving environments. By Silko’s own assertions, humanity seems by nature to be conflicted, as negative emotions such as loneliness pervade human existence. It is only through disassociation with other people and the subsequent re-association with nature that Silko finds peace, suggesting, counterintuitively enough, that one must be alone—that is, not around other humans—in order to not be lonely. Therefore, it would seem like the nature of humanity is to be lonely—possibly the source of humanity’s inner conflict—and only through connection with nature can human beings combat this. 

“I heard the old folks cry as they talked about the land and how it had been taken from them. To them the land was as dear as a child, and as I listened, I felt the loss and the anger too, as if it had happened only yesterday.”

Silko explains the connection her people, especially the old-time folks, have with the land. They construct its theft as the kidnapping of a child, cementing the personification of place. The pain resultant from this loss transcends Anglo constructs of time as the loss of land is still happening; the child is still, and perpetually, being kidnapped.

The Pueblo people do not suffer from the loss of land as though it were property, but rather must wake up and face every day as though a loved one was being held hostage by the American government. Similarly, the pain and trauma as a result of the loss of land transcends and reverberates throughout generations, as each person within the community suffers as a result of this injustice. The narrator uses this episode to explain why she went to seek justice through law school, although she ultimately realized that the Anglo method of seeking justice will be not be effective.

“The remains of things—animals and plants, the clay and stones—were treated with respect, because for the ancient people all these things had spirit and being […] At a later time they may again become what they once were: dust. A rock shares this fate with us and with animals and plants as well […]Perhaps this is how all beings share in the spirit of the Creator. We do not know.” 

Due to the interconnectivity of all things, everything should be respected. Even the dust should be regarded as sacred because eventually everything returns to it. There is a divinity in this equality of decomposition, a divinity which comes from a place of not knowing. In Pueblo religion, it would seem, as much emphasis is placed on uncertainty as it is in the knowledge which comes from the stories. In this way, all things are equal in the eye of the Creator, as they do not understand her; however, they know enough to respect her work. 

“Represented only in its intrinsic form, the squash flower is released from limited meaning or restricted identity. Even in the most sophisticated abstract form, a squash flower or a cloud or a lightning bolt became intricately connected with a complex system of relationships that the ancient Pueblo people maintained with each other and with the populous natural world they lived in.” 

Silko presents the idea that even the seemingly simplest forms can be complex, as it is the context behind the form itself which informs the viewer’s knowledge of the form. Although the squash flower may seem artistically simple, its depiction is rife with levels of symbolism which could not have been achieved in a more realistic drawing. As such, its complexity lies in its simplicity, instead of the other way around. The narrator uses squash flower to demonstrate the Pueblo’s belief in the complex systems of identity which contextualize their environments.

“Such greed, even on the part of only one being, had the effect of threatening the survival of all life on earth.” 

This quotation is the end of the story of the Gambler, who seized all the rain clouds for his personal gain, causing massive drought. This quotation brings a morality to the stories, as it suggests that greed and selfishness are a direct opponent to survival. However, this is not the only moral within the story; the narrative also stresses the interconnectivity of all things, as one action can have a ripple effect across all life on earth. This story is used as context for the Anglo kidnapping of Native American land, signaling that this act of white greed led to widespread human suffering. 

“The ancient Pueblo vision of the world was inclusive. The impulse was to leave nothing out. Pueblo oral tradition necessarily embraced all levels of human experience. Otherwise, the collective knowledge and beliefs comprising Pueblo culture would have been incomplete.” 

The inclusivity inherent within Pueblo culture leads to a knowledge that is both collective and collected: it is everyone’s knowledge, as everyone is able to listen to the oral stories, but it is also knowledge that is garnered from every person. In this way, the nature of knowledge becomes egalitarian, as no knowledge is given preference; rather, all is combined in order to complete Pueblo knowledge. This sharply contrasts with the Anglo view of knowledge, which stratifies knowledge through various mechanisms. In Anglo knowledge, there is a hierarchy, in which absolute truth is at the very top. In this way, the difference between the Anglo and the Pueblo view of knowledge mimics the difference between Anglo and Pueblo society.

“Survival in any landscape comes down to making the best use of all available resources. On that particular September afternoon, the raiders made better use of the Swahee terrain than my poor ancestors did. Thus, the high, dark mesa and the story of the two lost Laguna herders became inextricably linked. The memory of them and their story resides in part with the high, dark mesa. For as long as the mesa stands, people within the family and clan will be reminded of the story of that afternoon long ago. Thus, the continuity and accuracy of the oral narratives are reinforced by the landscape—and the Pueblo interpretation of that landscape is maintained.” 

Silko stresses the maintenance of the Pueblo interpretation of the landscape that reinforces oral narratives. The stories are, therefore, inextricable from the landscape itself. The landscape shapes the stories; instead of the story linking the herders to the landscape, the link between the herders and the landscape is presupposed. The land contains their memory, which the story merely brings to light. This not only personifies the landscape, it also renders the herders as part of the land itself. In this way, this explanation mimics the events, in which the herders became a part of the landscape, after their deaths, by turning to dust. 

“Pueblo expression resembles something like a spider’s web—with many little threads radiating from the center, crisscrossing one another. As with the web, the structure emerges as it is made, and you must simply listen and trust, as the Pueblo people do, that meaning will be made.”

With the inclusivity in knowledge being preferred over factual accuracies, there is a trust necessary on the part of the listener that the intended meaning will become clear. As a result, the nature of Pueblo stories is different from classical Anglo stories, as the former may be less linear. In this way, the structure of Pueblo narratives mimics the Pueblo’s concept of time as something that is not linear. 

“Aunt Susie wasn’t talking about death the way most of us do. She was talking about ‘going over’ as a journey, a journey that perhaps we can only begin to understand through an appreciation for the boundless capacity of language that, through storytelling, brings us together, despite great distances between cultures, despite great distances in time.” 

For the Pueblo community, it would seem that death exists as an extension of life’s journey. Aunt Susie indicates that storytelling has a kind of divine power for interconnectivity, that it can connect people who lived in different lifetimes or different places. In this way, storytelling becomes a mechanism not just for knowledge of how other people lived but also by which one can link together diverse peoples. Given the importance the Pueblo community places upon interconnectivity, this implies that storytelling is a crucial aspect of the Pueblo culture.

“One day, when I was in the first grade, we all crowded around the smiling white tourists, who peered at our faces. We all wanted to be in the picture because afterward the tourists sometimes gave us each a penny. Just as we were all posed and ready to have our picture taken, the tourist man looked at me. ‘Not you,’ he said and motioned for me to step away from my classmates. I was so embarrassed that I wanted to disappear. My classmates were puzzled by the tourists’ behavior, but I knew the tourists didn’t want me in their snapshot because I looked different, because I was part white.”

This story is repeated in other essays, implying that it is a crucial part of the Silko’s conception of her self-identity. Through this story, the reader is able to witness white tourists disrupting the Pueblo community, which is directly at odds with Pueblo ideals of harmony and interconnectivity. Similarly, the white tourist’s actions are problematic because in two words, the tourist is able to both exoticize Native Americans and monetize race. By giving the children in the pictures money in order to be photographed as Other, the white tourist situates race within a capitalist system. Similarly, he also then monetizes identity; if identities can be purchased, it is fairly easy to understand how they can be arranged according to a hierarchy: one person’s identity—like that of a ‘pure-blooded’ Native American—is worth more than someone else’s mixed-race origins.

“In the view of old-time people, we are all sisters and brothers because the Mother Creator made all of us—all colors and all sizes […] clanspeople of all the living beings around us.”

Silko demonstrates the ideal of interconnectivity that perpetuates in old-time beliefs. She stresses the idea not of the scientific similarity between humans, but of the actual kinship of all humanity. Humans are not merely members of the same species; rather, they are a family, brothers and sisters created by the Mother. In this view, race—i.e., color—becomes no more notable than how tall an individual is. It is just another descriptor. Silko implies then that within the old-time beliefs, there is no racism, that racism is a white construct that has infiltrated the Pueblo community.

“Identity was acknowledged to be always in a flux; in the old stories, one minute Spider Woman is a little spider under a yucca plant, and the next instant she is a sprightly grandmother walking down the road.”

Because the Pueblo understanding of time is different from the Anglo construct thereof, the Pueblo’s conception of identity is also much more malleable than its Anglo counterpart. The Pueblo believed in the dynamic nature of identity and the fluidity of Pueblo identity allowed for greater space for Pueblo people to act and be themselves. Similarly, the Pueblo concept of identity, as in this anecdote of Spider Woman, actually allows the individual to change not only in age but in physical essence as well. In this way, the Pueblo do not seem to place much importance on appearance. In fact, it seems that appearance does not factor into identity at all. Rather, it seems that the essence of a person, which is informed by their actions, takes precedence in constructing their identity. In this way, identity is reflective upon what a person is doing, and therefore always changes.

“Since the children belonged to the mother and her clan, and the women owned and bequeathed the houses and the farmland, the exact determination of paternity wasn’t critical.”

In contrast to the patriarchies of Anglo society, the Pueblo community has a much more matriarchal construction. Although not completely a matriarchy, as there are males in positions of authority, the women do control the houses and the farmland so as to be able to provide for their children. Similarly, the children belong to the mothers, and paternal lineage is not as important as maternal lineage. This prevents the social stigma associated with children born out of wedlock—as is the case in Anglo patriarchies—as there is not issue of where the child belongs. Similarly, if paternal lineage is not an issue, marriage is also much freer, as is sexuality. Without concern for who will provide for the child, the parents are free to be more sexually open and fluid.

“This, perhaps, has always been the greatest outrage: that for American Indians, the worst violations came not at the hands of private individuals acting out racist perversions, but from the federal government itself […] The American public has difficulty believing such injustice continues to be inflicted upon Indian people because Americans assume that the sympathy or tolerance they feel toward Indians is somehow felt or transferred to the government policy that deals with Indians. This is not the case.” 

Silko presents the systemic nature of colonization; that is, that the racism that results from colonization comes at a governmental level. Although white Americans may be sympathetic to Native Americans, injustice has been woven into the fabric of America at an institutional level. In fact, the very government—this very nation—was founded and continues to exist based upon atrocities, lies, and betrayal perpetuated by the US government. In this way, individual sympathies towards Native Americans matter little, as Native Americans face daily injustice in the policies of the US government. 

“‘On the day the pilgrims washed up on the East Coast shore, the tribal people of this continent had 1,905,000,000 acres of land. By 1871 the Indian had 140 million acres left. And today we have 92 million acres, 40 million of which are in Alaska. That’s about 5 percent of what we started with, and most of this land is what the white people didn’t want.’” 

Here, Auntie Kie explains the significance of Anglo-American colonialism. She uses specific numbers and statistics in order to demonstrate the sheer loss of land. While many Anglos sympathize with the Native Americans for their loss of land, they do not truly understand the staggering numbers associated with this loss. By using concrete numbers, Auntie Kie does not allow the land to be abstracted; rather, it becomes specific acres that have been stolen. Auntie Kie concludes with the assertion that almost half of the land the Native Americans do have is also land that the settlers did not want, adding a final barb of injustice. In this way, it becomes impossible for Anglo-Americans living on stolen land not to feel responsible for, or at the very least complicit in, this theft.

“‘The federal money which used to come to the Indian communities may have been labeled ‘assistance.’ But for the Native American people, that federal money wasn’t ‘welfare’ or ‘aid.’ It was money owed to the Indian people for over two hundred years. Another four years of Reagan will only get the United States farther behind in its payments on the Big Debt owed for all the land wrongfully taken and the damages resulting to Native Americans.’” 

Auntie Kie’s words demonstrate the importance of context and perspective when understanding so-called historical truths. Although the US government depicted the money given to the Native American peoples as aid, the Native Americans viewed it as a kind of late payment for the theft of their land. As such, when Reagan cut welfare funding, Native Americans saw this government policy as defaulting on payment. Within this context, it becomes clear that the American government owes Native Americans more than it owes any country. With this perspective and context, Anglo-Americans can then understand that eventually, the Native Americans will foreclose on the American government. The importance placed upon perspective and context here is similar to that of the old-time stories, suggesting that this, too, will be incorporated into Pueblo storytelling and communal knowledge. 

“I understood then that this is what it means to be a people and to be a Yaqui village and not just another Tucson neighborhood. To be a people, to be part of a village, is the dimension of human identity that anthropology understands least, because this sense of home, of the people one comes from, is an intangible quality, not easily understood by American-born Europeans. The Yaquis may have had to leave behind their Sonoran mountain strongholds, but they did not leave behind their consciousness of their identity as Yaquis, as a people, as a community. This is where their power as a culture lies: with this shared consciousness of being part of a living community that continues on and on, beyond the death of one or even of many, that continues on the riverbanks of the Santa Cruz after the mountains have been left behind.” 

Here, Silko uses repetition in order to illustrate her point emphasizing the continuing Yaqui community identity. This identity, which Silko suggests comes from a concrete notion of homeland, is something that Anglo-Americans do not have, as they are not tied to the land of their ancestors in the same way, if at all. Rather, Anglos have tried to appropriate the land of other people’s ancestors; without ties to the land, they cannot have a concrete sense of community identity. This demonstrates the importance that the Pueblo people place upon the land, as it is integral in shaping their communal identity. Even the syntax used here to describe the Yaqui community identity can be seen as resembling the land itself: the repetition of words resembles rolling hills, commas can be seen as cliffs or arroyos, long uninterrupted phrases can be seen as plateaus or vast grasslands. In this way, the very language which Silko uses embodies the landscape itself. As identity shapes language, it would therefore only make sense that the landscape—which shapes identity—similarly shapes language. 

“The US Congress was not satisfied with the traditional forms of decision making in Indian communities and moved to interfere with Indian tribal governments in 1941 for the convenience of mining and timber interests eager to exploit Indian land. Up until that time, traditional community leaders had opposed such insults to the land and had been successful in stopping the mining and timber companies.”

Even when talking about the formalities of the US government, Silko continues to personify the land, saying that it can be insulted. She is very specific in her diction, maintaining that the land cannot be destroyed but rather can only be insulted. The land will continue long after the insults of the American government; there is a kind of divinity in its timelessness. However, Silko contrasts the divinity of land with the small-mindedness of the American government, which circumvented traditional tribal decision-making processes in order to pursue short-term capitalist gains. Indeed, by making these tribal councils and filling them with toadies, the American government institutionalizes its racist view of Native American communities by ascribing a paternalism to their policies. However, the Native Americans are aware that this alteration only serves to benefit US government interests, which are and always have been aligned with money.

“Once a year, the US celebrated Thanksgiving and traces the day back to the year the starving pilgrims were fed by the Indians, who no doubt realized that hungry pilgrims, like all hungry human beings, might be dangerous. It isn’t great spirituality or generosity but simple human intelligence that says that when some are well fed and some are hungry, the hungry people must be fed; otherwise there can be no peace or security for those with the food.” 

The simplicity of the sentences themselves—in the brevity of the phrases and the uncomplicated nature of the words themselves, which are repeated often—belies the simplicity of the reasoning: both are so straightforward, that even a child could understand. However, the simplicity of this reasoning—what Silko refers to as simple human intelligence—is astounding, particularly because it is so lacking in Anglo civilizations.

“For the generation of my great-grandmother and earlier generations, anyone who had not been born in the community was a stranger, regardless of skin color. Strangers were not judged by their appearances—which could deceive—but by their behavior. The old-time people took their time to become acquainted with a person before they made a judgement. The old-time people were very secure in themselves and their identity; and thus, they were able to appreciate differences and to even marvel at personal idiosyncrasies so long as no one and nothing was being harmed.”

The sense of communal identity allows for much more freedom for individual expressions of identity, which is seen as much more dynamic than communal identity. As such, it is not appearance that is considered important, but rather behavior. This focus on behavior reflects a central tenet of Pueblo culture: the belief in the interconnectivity of all things. Because the Pueblo believe that cooperation and harmony is necessary to survive, they only judge people negatively when their actions harm the community.

“The great human migration within the Americas cannot be stopped; human beings are natural forces of the earth, just as rivers and winds are natural forces.” 

Just as the government cannot control nature, it is also unable to control the migration of human beings, as human beings are natural forces. This lends a kind of divinity to human beings, as they become unconstrained by laws and borders. Indeed, these things are human constructs. As such, it would seem that Silko holds no fidelity to these things; indeed, it does not even seem that the Pueblo have such things as laws but rather only concern themselves with that which is necessary to maintain harmony within the community. Siko finds the regulation of bodies—specifically in regard to halting migration—to be ridiculous and ultimately futile. 

“‘The people are hungry. The people are cold. The rich have stolen the land. The rich have stolen freedom. The people demand justice. Otherwise, Revolution.’”

Silko writes this quotation across the mural of the giant snake that she paints on the side of her apartment building. Although this quotation is in English, the original text is in Spanish. She repeats this quotation in various essays,thereby employing the idea of repetition common in Pueblo storytelling. In this way, the quotation becomes like a chant, a refrain sung by the people to warn the rich of their impending doom.