Kerry Hawk Lessard: Urban Indians come together in Baltimore

For weeks now, I have been struggling to come to terms with what happened in Baltimore since the murder of Freddie Gray and how to write about it in a way that shows humility, respect, empathy, and a feeling of relationship. I struggled with this not because I do not have strong opinions and not because I lack words, but because these are the values taught to me by my family.

The fact of the matter is that Native people living in Baltimore—at least those with whom I am in community—do not identify as black and do not identify as white; we identify as Native. Most of us are multiracial and we know this, but the foundations of who we are rest in our identity as tribal citizens and all that this means.

Monday, May 4, was a tense and anxious time for my community. As we watched anger and upheaval unfold on our television screens and in our own neighborhoods, people were fearful of what would happen to our downtown Indian Center. Just the week before, our children planted seeds as part of our ongoing food sovereignty initiative and they were worried that their seeds - plants we’ve taught them to think of as relatives - would be untended or worse yet, destroyed. Community members reached out on Facebook, fearful that any of us might have been hurt. Some even asked us to identify our property as Indian-owned so that it might be spared from looting or vandalism. Families that drive from as far away as Central Virginia and Delaware for Indian Health Service dental care found their services interrupted. And as days wore on, an unintended disconnect between communities arose.

Conversations around state violence, race, and intersectional solidarity have long been difficult. Native people in my community found themselves in the middle of a narrative imposed upon them but one that did not feel entirely true. Laterally oppressive and polarizing discourse suggested that as people of color, we could hold only one of two views and that where you stood placed you on either the right or wrong side of social justice. One view embraced the expression of justifiable anger and frustration through riots and protest. On the other hand, failure to wholeheartedly support what was reframed as the “Baltimore Rebellion” rendered one a weak, anti-black apologist guilty of the worst sort of respectability politics. But the truth is that real life is messier than this, and it was for this reason that we decided to hold a talking circle so that our people could process how they felt openly and without fear of judgement.