Happy Native American Heritage Month! And My Favorite Internet Video of the Year Is…! by Cliff Taylor
I sat on our couch and watched the 14 second video on Instagram over and over again -it made me feel something that kept almost bringing tears to my eyes -if the armor I’d donned my whole life hadn’t been so present I surely would’ve cried.
The video has three parts. First, there’s a hoop dancer in full regalia dancing and spinning around on an empty nighttime sidewalk, flapping his hoop-bedecked arms like a bird at the end; above his performance are the words Natives Embracing & Practicing Our Culture In 2020. Next, the same young man who was hoop dancing is seen as an ancestor looking on from the spirit-realm, his hair down, a blanket over his shoulders, a beaded medallion hanging from his neck, shaking his head and saying, “Wow,” in awe of that hoop dancer performing so beautifully in the monumentally different world of today; above him are the words Our Ancestors Watching Proudly Because Much Was Taken Away. Lastly, this young man-as-ancestor gives the hoop dancer applause, saying, “Well done! Well done!”, and clapping, conveying how joyously pleased he is with his dedicated descendant who is carrying on the culture.
The video is one of many by James Jones, aka notoriouscree on Instagram. It’s by far my favorite video of the year that I’ve encountered on the Internet (though I do love doggface208’s Fleetwood Mac skateboarding video too). It has a power that’s touched me unlike any of the other videos that’re constantly jumping out of my phone or laptop screen; the power of a great movie moment that cracks me open and allows me to feel my own spirit, the bundle of feelings that drives my life, that’s kept me dreaming and writing and making art for over 30 years now. I sent it to a brother of mine who I’ve known for 20 years, who’s career in obscurity mirrors mine, a long-suffering, deep soul, and he texted me back, “Yes. I need to see this every day. I need to see this every day.”
I watched it in my car before work, the week of the election electrifying all that’s beautiful about this country and all that’s horrifying. I watched it in the break room with my masked and gloved grocery store coworkers buzzing around me, getting more caffeine, taking a break from the customers and all of their oversharing. I watched it with my girlfriend beside me, feeling that Ponca kid who lived a spiritual life none of his non-Native Nebraskan peers around him understood, looking out through my 39 year old eyes. How many people out there understand the sheer amount of mental/emotional/physical/spiritual/social/cultural work any given Native does just to remain themselves in a way that feels good and right? The sacrifice, the endurance, the wound-carrying, the not looking away. “Wow. Well done! Well done!”
I first Sundanced at age 22 and really began learning about my ancestors there. They were as present as our Sundance Chief, Joe Badmoccasin, who sometimes wore a cowboy hat, as our leader, Ike Denny, who danced as perfectly and mesmerizing as that heartbreaking Native-done Oscar-caliber computer animated Sundance leader spirit that is just probably still a couple years down the road; the ancestors were as present as that tree in the middle we all danced around; they were as present as my uncle Dennis who invited me and danced beside me. This recovered knowledge of our ancestors’ presence in our lives was an utterly profound addition to my existence and worldview; essential; shifting everything onto the vector of true healing.
I sent the video to my Lakota brother who is doing a tremendous amount of bad-ass Lakota language revitalization work, who’s laughed and rapped and collaborated with me through all manner of things, and he said, “It’s fuckin cool.” That’s him for you: understated and spot on, haha. He’s told me of seeing the ancestors of the kids in his language classes coming into his classroom to learn, help, heal, encourage, and just be a part of the miracle of their descendants learning and speaking the Lakota language after everything that’s happened. Our ancestors are so real. Not a single one of us is walking alone. There really is someone cheering you on right now, proudly nodding their head, and saying, “Wow. Well done! Well done!”
The ancestors don’t lose their humanity when they become a part of those ones who continue to look after the tribe on the Other Side, rather, they become resplendent with a fully realized kind of humanity, incredibly deep, incredibly understanding, incredibly loving, incredibly caring, incredibly connected to the Creator when it comes to the things they do now. That’s part of why I love the video so much: the humanness of that ancestor’s awe at his descendant’s dance, and how that expresses all of the warm humanness with which they are still regarding us and watching over us and influencing our lives from their dimension. It really is like that. We got loved ones, regal and funny, wrinkled and full of memories, witnessing us do things they never could have imagined that’re parts of the overarching tribal life they are collectively guiding and dreaming into being. On a certain level, we all know this. I think I also love this video for how perfectly it expresses this, lets its Native viewer FEEL this truth that in their guts and bones they truly already know.
There were many years where I felt kind of friendless, at least like I didn’t have any of those core kindred-spirit friends around who were always saving my life, and it was during those years that I felt my ancestors caring for me, keeping me upright, strengthening me, dancing beside me. When no one else was there to see the things I was going through in the name of helping my people and staying on the Red Road, the ancestors were there, tangible, unafraid to cry with me, experiencing all my human feelings with me, rooting me on just like the young man-ancestor with his long hair down in the video. I watched this video over and over and I remembered how my experiences of my ancestors kept me going, kept me moving forward, heartened me when no one else was around and made me feel okay. It was healing to see this experience made into such a beautiful video, to see that it was out there for millions to watch and learn from and remember with. “Wow. Well done! Well done!”
I watched the video one more time and felt all those things that I couldn’t exactly put words to, felt something tender welling up inside, the living room empty but not, something speaking through the young man to me, to all of us. I put my phone down and looked outside, imagined what the world would look like if it had been wholly guided by the ancestors’ hands and not Capitalism, trauma, or Empire. I imagined and liked what I saw. And then I grabbed my keys and went to work.
Happy Native American Heritage Month, everyone!
Thank you James Jones, @notoriouscree, for your video, creativity, and dancing.
“Wow. Well done! Well done!”
By Cliff Taylor
Cliff Taylor is a writer, a poet, a speaker, and an enrolled member of the Ponca Tribe of Nebraska. He has written a non-fiction book about the little people and recently completed a memoir, Special Dogs, about coming-of-age in Nebraska. Contact Cliff @ tayloc00@hotmail.com