First Voices - Ed Kabotie
Transcript
[Flute Music]
ALICIA: That was Ed Kabotie playing the flute here on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. My name is Alicia and I’m a ranger here at Grand Canyon National Park. In early September 2024, I had the opportunity to sit down with Ed and talk about his work as an artist, musician, and educator. We sat on a picnic table outside of the cabin where he stayed, surrounded by late-season wildflowers and towering ponderosa pines. In this episode, you'll hear some occasional noise from the wind. If you listen closely, you might also hear birds chirping and the sound of pinecones dropping from the ponderosas around us. Thanks for joining us today.
ALICIA: Really grateful that you came out to the park today, so thank you so much for being here.
ED: Yeah, absolutely. I'm so grateful. Yeah. Love this place. Super beautiful today. Love to hear the pinecones dropping all over the place.
ALICIA: Yeah. So, Ed you're a multifaceted creative, right, a multi-talented artist. You're a musician, an educator, and I know you have a family history in art, too. So can you tell us a little bit about your background as an artist and how it connects with your work today.
ED: Wow, that's a big question. When I, when I hear the reference to family, I think back to my grandfather, you know? So my great grandfather, Lolomayaoma was arrested in 1906 for refusing to send my grandfather to school. He was six years old at the time. This was a, you know, boarding school in Pennsylvania. So I mean, 1000 miles away, kill the Indian, save the man. Of course he resisted, you know, and he was put in prison for his resistance. My grandfather actually ran away from school till he was 15 and then he was sent to Santa Fe Indian School, which is the same boarding school I graduated from, as well. But Santa Fe Indian School has an interesting history of its own type of renegade resistance. You know, Dorothy Dunn-style studio art, well known in Indian art that comes later. My grandfather was there during the DeHuff administration and Principal, or Superintendent, rather, DeHuff was demoted from the Indian Service because he and his wife were encouraging, you know, the children in their culture rather than, you know, trying to extinguish it. My grandfather was singled out along with two other artists, Otis from Shongopovi and then Velino Shije from Zia Pueblo and those three as vocational training were actually given exposure to techniques in art, and so my grandfather began a journey there. He's kind of a world-renowned kind of guy. You know, he's known at the Grand Canyon for the Watchtower murals, which were done in 1932. That's not typically his style, you know, he went, he reverted to kind of an ancient style of art with the watchtower murals. His art journey is just incredible. He was a Guggenheim Fellow, and he also was instrumental in the development of the overlay techniques in Hopi. He spearheaded the development of the Guild, which trained silversmiths, 60s, 70s, 80s in Hopi. He was very involved with the establishment of the Hopi Cultural Center as well, so. He was a U.S. ambassador to India, you know, Goodwill Ambassador, Agricultural Summit. He was commissioned by Mrs. Roosevelt to do a piece of work when she visited him at the Peabody Museum at Harvard during one of their openings. It's a really remarkable journey that he had. I, I never knew him as an artist. I knew him as a hard-ass Hopi farmer, you know? But my father was, of course, very engaged in art, as well. And so I'm a third-generation artist. My father, I would say, is probably my biggest inspiration, kind of in an abstract way. I mean, I think my dad did not want to follow in his father's footsteps. I don't want to follow in my dad's footsteps. I think we all try to be very distinct in our journeys. But there's that process of osmosis that takes place when you're in an artist's home and you know the work is being done. You know, I can hear my dad's saw blade going, you know, as he would make jewelry, singing songs, listening to songs, humming kachina songs, you know, just as he would work. You know? So it was a it was a very, very special atmosphere and I think that nurtured me in my work. There's a number of things that brought me to the place. In my own personal expression, music and art have played a big part of my journey, and music tends to be my forte not necessarily by choice. I love, I love the serenity of creating visual art. There's something about it that I have to be in a good place to do it and it's something that I long for to be in places like this, honestly, this is this is where I generate artwork.
ALICIA: Yeah. I wanted to ask where you where you draw inspiration for your songwriting, which I guess is you said places like this. Where else do you do you draw inspiration for your your art and your music?
ED: I draw inspiration from indigenous history. I draw inspiration from my culture. I draw inspiration from a lot of the negative that I see around me in the history of my people, in our relationship with the United States government, you know both past and present. So I think sometimes people refer to me as an activist, which I, I tend to resist that concept because I feel like an activist is active, you know? I mean, my vibe is like, yo, we all just need to slow down. You know, we, we need to come to a place where we can be in spaces like this to listen to the rhythm of nature, how it connects with the rhythm of our spirit. And find a way to think consciously again. You know, if I feel like that's, the biggest problems that we have in this world are, they need a spiritual solution. And I hope that somehow through my art and music, I'm able to elevate my thinking and hopefully maybe other people's thinking at the same time about conscious thought regarding environmental social justice issues on the Colorado Plateau, Grand Canyon Region, and also in the world in general.
ALICIA: When you look back at your time that you've been creating music or creating art, do you think your, your style has changed? Maybe the content of your music or the style of your music, or?
ED: Absolutely. I mean, in regards to music I feel like my journey as a musician started in my home communities. I feel like everybody's a musician where I come from; from the time you're a child, you know, everybody's introduced to song, everybody's introduced to dance as a form of prayer, and as a form of interacting with the universe. And that also crosses over to visual art, as well. I was exposed to rock music via a Native American band called XIT, X-I-T, who was on Motown Records like between 1970 and 1972, and they put out a couple of amazing albums, one called Plight of the Redman, one called Silent Warrior, and they were very aggressive in their message. I, I mean think back what was happening in Native America in 1970, 1972 that's the takeover of Alcatraz, that's the takeover of Wounded Knee. That's the American Indian Movement, you know, taking over BIA offices in Washington, I mean, all of that was kind of expressed in the spirit of their music. When I got into boarding school, I you know, metal was kind of communicating to me and a lot of us because I think, as third generation boarding school students, we were all pretty pissed off, you know? And it made a lot of sense. When I, when I heard reggae, I recognized that reggae was like very angry music, you know? And I'm talking about Jamaican reggae, Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Bunny Wailer, you know, those old school guys. And their message was very aggressive as well, a cry for justice for 400 years of oppression. And sometimes when I would listen to the music of Bob Marley, it would just feel like he was singing about me, you know? I got homesick after living off the reservation some years down the road after high school. I was a drummer in music originally, that's kind of my passion, but I always kind of continued carrying a guitar. I left music just because it was difficult for me separate some of the dysfunctional things that follow rock'n'roll, you know? And I started a family very young, so, you know, I, I felt like it was wise for me to put away, you know, the drum kit. But of course, you know, it's you can't, you can't keep music out of your brain, you know, or out of your heart when it's there. And, you know, I'm always tapping on everything and, you know, fiddling with guitar. And out of homesickness, I began to sing more traditional style melodies in Hopi and Tewa and translate it into guitar. That's the way my original music started. You know, the original recordings of original music and it was very history-focused. I thought a lot about my kids. I thought a lot about youth growing up on the reservations. You know, I wanted them to hear their music. I wanted to them hear, for them to hear stories about their heroes, you know? And that's kind of the way it took off. I got arrested in Coconino County for marijuana possession. You know, at a at a time that that the state of Arizona was like, very aggressively against it, right? And so like, for less than a gram of marijuana. I was. I was charged with felony possession, felony paraphernalia, blah blah la la la. When I got arrested, you know, I, you know, I heard I've heard about my people talking about being careful about border towns all my life. I never had a problem personally until then. You know, and now I'm in jail, facing prison time, and I'm looking at everybody else who's in jail and we're looking like 80% Native American. And today in Flagstaff, and this is not my statistics, this is statistics coming from the Flagstaff Police Department, they consistently over the last decade every year annually arrest about 50% of their arrests are of Native American people. Native Americans make up 8% of the population of Flagstaff. You know, so something's haywire, right? And my music changed. You know, I adapted more of a reggae style and began to cry out against not only what I was experiencing, you know, on the opposite side of the law, but also the environmental issues. 45 billion gallons of water sucked up from underneath Hopi in the Kayenta mine, during the slurry operation of the Kayenta mine, where we were initially paid 3.3% for the market value of coal and $1.67 cents for every 326,000 gallons of water. A 300-year water supply just gone in 35 years, and so what we're left with today is arsenic-contaminated water systems in Hopi. You know, if you have running water in Hopi you can't drink what comes out of a faucet. And that's if you have running water. Sitting in the jail cell, you know, you kind of start recognizing disparity. Playing and living on the street, you kind of, you kind of look at the lifestyle of the people around you and compare it to, you know, what your experience is. And I wouldn't trade my life for anything. I wouldn't trade my upbringing or the place that I choose to live for anything. Right? But you recognize what's happening? You know, 500 to 1000 open pit uranium mines on Navajo Nation, leftover from the Cold War. We kicked out the Havasupai nation in 1918 from the Grand Canyon region so that we could establish the National Park. And now that we've stuck them into a side canyon and restricted them to that place, now we've built a uranium mine on top of the Muav Aquifer that gives and provides water for them, you know, and we're transporting this radioactive ore from the Grand Canyon through the already-impacted communities of Navajo Nation on up to yet another reservation, or the only operating uranium mill in the United States which neighbors the Ute Mountain Ute or the Ute Nation in Utah, you know so. It's crazy, you know, we hear about Flint, MI, why don't we hear about Hopi, you know? We heard we hear about, you know, the tragic uranium tragedies overseas or in New York, you know, but we don't hear, we don't hear about the largest spill, you know, uranium accident in North America, which is on Navajo Nation, you know? It's, this became the cry of my music and the band Tha’ Yoties was formed, you know, short for coyotes, because we're howling for the people and lands of the Colorado Plateau.
ALICIA: What do you want to convey? How do you decide what messages you want to share through your music?
ED: I mean, that's not a decision I make, you know? I mean, I feel like, I feel like my business plan is often feeling the current of the river or feeling the movement of the wind, so to speak metaphorically, you know, I mean it's, it's like where and how the great Spirit is leading, you know? And yeah, I mean we are currently doing what we can to bring awareness to the situation of the Havasupai, we've been working on that pretty heavily this year. Rumble on the Mountain is an annual show that we do in Flagstaff, which is about, you know, a 4 to 6 hour show where we bring in Native speakers to talk about our issues, you know, not to have somebody else tell our stories, which is kind of typical. But you know, now we're going to tell you our stories our way, right? And we bring in traditional dance groups, traditional musicians, scholars, activists, contemporary bands, and we, through edutainment, a phrase I stole from Walt Disney, part education and part entertainment, right, we try to convey a message to the community. And to, again, howl for the people and lands of the Colorado Plateau. We were invited by the Supai down to the village earlier this year, where we performed for the community, which was a real blessing to us. We shared a song there called "War”, and it's a song that was composed a few years ago about the Supai, because to me they're this tiny little tribe, but they've been teaching all of the rest of us in Northern Arizona how to fight. And they've been very strategic and shrewd. I mean, so much so that now we have the President of the United States last year coming out to designate the Baaj Nwaavjo I’tah Kukveni, Greater Grand Canyon Monument, you know, I mean, that's, that's an amazing thing and last year as well in the fall, we took a delegation of Hopi and Supai out to Washington, DC, where we did some lobbying out there. But we performed the show at the Smithsonian, Native voices of the Grand Canyon again, in an effort to raise awareness of what's taking place. We did a big show in Tuba City this year that we called uprising that was on Pueblo Revolt Day, the 344th anniversary of the Pueblo Revolt in Tuba City, again that's right along the haul route. And so that's kind of our focus. The song “War” is meant to recognize that we're still in a war, you know? I mean, it hasn't stopped for us in Northern Arizona. You know, we, national spotlight was given to the disparity that we live in compared to the communities around us during the pandemic, you know? We had a lot of national focus talking about how far people needed to drive to get simple medical attention or to get adequate nourishment AKA a grocery store or a hospital, you know? And to me, we have those moments of awakening in this country. You know, we had the civil rights movement, you know. But we tend to lapse again and can kind of forget about those things. I feel like the murder of George Floyd kind of shook the country up, the pandemic kind of shook the country up, where again we said, “aha,” you know, and somehow connected with our national conscience. But it's also so easy for us to forget. And we don't want people to forget. So this song says “Havasupai Nation leading in the fight. Conscious hearts and minds unite, Havasuw `Baaja, your story we heed. Beware of corporate corruption and greed. It's a warning. It's a distant early warning because we're in a global crisis. We're living heartless, mindless. Mankind’s left up to his selfish devices. It's a war.” And it's not a war against institutions. I mean, I guess in a way it is because it's, it's a war against philosophies, isms and schisms. Again, the pandemic I feel like introduced us to the term systemic racism, which is what we've been talking about for years, but never really had a term that the country could sink its teeth into. You know, I feel I feel like now we do. And honestly, I personally feel like Grand Canyon National Park with the millions of visitors that come to the park every year, this is where people need to hear about it, you know? This is where it's all happening. At the same time, it's where things tend to be out of sight, out of mind for us.
ALICIA: When people come to the Grand Canyon, what do you want them to come away with? You know, you talk about this being the spot for them to be getting that information. So is there something that you hope that people leave the Grand Canyon with when they when they come to visit?
ED: Absolutely. I, I do feel like the Grand Canyon is a place where people come and their hearts are impacted, you know, I mean it's, it’s, yeah there's the National Lampoon's Vacation, where you come and you just kind of glance at it and blaze off. You know what I mean? I suppose that happens. But I also feel like, you know, people are deeply impacted, you know, when they take the time to appreciate. I think the park and the Harvey Company, before, you know, I feel like have been very selective in the stories that they tell about Native America, you know? And I feel like it's, there's been an atmosphere in the park since the pandemic, you know, that Native voices need to come to the forefront. I'm in full support of that, you know, and what I would hope that when visitors come that they would see us flesh and blood. That they would be educated about the Kayenta Mine, that they would be educated about the most endangered river in North America, the Colorado River, the water situation in Hopi, the water situation in Supai, the water situation in Navajo, you know? Get an understanding of what's taking place here because, I mean, the preservation of resources in the Grand Canyon is more than the natural resources that are here. It's more than the water, it's more than the animals, it's more than the wildlife. It's also the people. And somehow we've communicated everything else, but we haven't talked about the people, you know? Right now here at Grand Canyon National Park, Desert View is being designated as a as a cultural spot. And I'm like, yo, just don't make that a reservation. You know what I mean? Like, I mean, let that become the heartbeat, then let it permeate throughout the park, throughout the park system, throughout, throughout the National Park system, right? Metaphorically, Desert View has the watchtower, right? And what is the purpose of a watchtower? You know, I mean it's it's to create a beacon, you know, a guiding point, for us, an overlook. And to me that's, that's what the potential is, you know, for the voices, the native voices of the Grand Canyon. If we could utilize the platform here, to share our burdens with the world, I think, you know, that would be tremendous. I mean that's, that's the big step in change is just communication of stories.
ALICIA: Mm-hmm. Yeah.
ED: Through podcasts in this day and age.
ALICIA: Through podcasts, yeah! You talked about your work being really, I mean, just so deeply connected to like the landscape here and the people in Northern Arizona. And can you tell me a little bit about your connection to the land, or to the land in the Grand Canyon, you know, how you feel when you're here?
ED: Yeah, that's a really great question, as well. Difficult to answer in a way. In a Judeo-Christian paradigm, human life begins at the Garden of Eden, somewhere in Mesopotamia. In the scientific version of how the human race begins, you know, currently it sounds like it's Africa. That's where those perspectives lead us, right? But in a Hopi perspective, human life begins at the Grand Canyon. You know, this is the emergence place, this is the womb of Mother Earth. This is, this is the place that the human race begins and spreads out into the Earth. That paradigm comes from a very close, intimate relationship with the Grand Canyon to Hopi people. We refer to the Grand Canyon as Öngtupqa, which means “salt canyon”. Often hear the term paatuwaqatsi, “water is life”, and, you know, we relate to that term. In an ancient society you need to recognize also: salt is life. You know, salt is vital: to our health, as a trade commodity, you know? And there's two pristine sources of salt in the Pueblo area southwest and that’s one is Zuni Salt Lake and the other is the Grand Canyon. So the Grand Canyon becomes a very important place in intertribal relationship. And it also becomes much more than that. A place of beginnings, and also a place where the soul returns to make its journey home. So the Grand Canyon is not really looked upon as a recreational place in our culture. You know, it's looked upon as a place of very high sacred significance, but attached to that is a very strong element of fear, as well. You know, the, the spirits that occupy the Canyon, that live in the Canyon, they're important and significant in the way we interact. And how we show our respects to the great spirit is probably more expressed in our relationship to the Canyon than many other elements, you know in, in our perspective. Yeah, hard to explain, hard to explain, but I'm taking a stab. When I come to the Grand Canyon personally, this is the way I feel. You know, it's, it's a place of wonder. It's a place of fear. It's a place of reverence. You know, when I visit the Canyon, you know, first thing I want to do is speak to the river, speak to the Canyon, let everything know I'm here and that I'm coming with the good heart, you know, and of course, that does involve, you know, some introspection here. So I feel like this place rejuvenates me, though, for those reasons.
ALICIA: Thank you for, for sharing. I know you, you have done a lot of songwriting, and I know you've performed solo quite a bit and also with your band, Tha ‘Yoties, which you, you talked about. I'm curious if you have a favorite piece that you perform either solo or with Tha ‘Yoties.
ED: Yeah, I, you know, sometimes people would come up to buy a CD and they're like, so which one do you recommend? I'm like, yo, they're all my kids. So, you know, I don't choose one above another. And I feel it feel kind of, I feel that way. I mean, every every song is written with purpose and with feeling. And you know it, it may be appropriate for one stage of thought and not another. But I guess if I would have to like, pick out something, It's funny, but you know the the “Don’t Worry, [Be] Hopi” interpretation, which is, which is an interpretation of “Don't Worry, Be Happy”, right? I mean, Bobby McFerrin came out with that song back in 1988 and it was like instantly there was a T-shirt in Hopi at Tsakurshovi, the trading post, that said, “Don't Worry, Be Hopi", you know? And we've carried that motto, you know. It's actually a very Hopi concept. “Don't worry, be Hopi.” Hopi, my father used to say, is a compound word, hòtü, which is an arrow representing masculinity and piihu, which is a woman's breast representing femininity. And you bring those two together, you have the yin-yang, that's what it means to be Hopi. To be interconnected, to be in balance, you know? To recognize the wisdom of the feminine, to recognize the wisdom of the masculine, to live in harmony horizontally, you know, with your fellow man, with creation. And to live in harmony vertically, you know, with the history of our past in the underworlds and and above, as well, and with the great spirit, you know. So that's really what it means to be Hopi. So to say “don't worry, be Hopi”, I mean, that makes a whole lot of sense, right? I was just, I was just meditating on the song “Don't Worry, Be Hopi” and I'm like, “You know, we've had the T-shirt for a few decades now. We should probably just have a revised version of the song.” So I put together the song “Don't Worry, be Hopi”, which starts up pretty whimsical, you know. “Here's a little song you know, I changed the words to give it a cultural flow. Don't worry, be Hopi. At the beginning of time, we came into this land to leave our strife behind. Follow Maasaw’s plan. Don't worry, be Hopi.” Now that's a very deep saying right there, a deep expression to people who are Hopi. Because that's saying we're in a covenant relationship with the great spirit and, you know, we'll recognize that. The second verse says “The Castellum come in 1539”, Castellum referring to the Castilian culture of early Spain. They came in 1539. We're first contact people here. You know, the first European settlements in the United States were Florida 1565, Saint Augustine and San Gabriel, New Mexico. Those two are both 15thcentury European settlement, as opposed to Jamestown and Plymouth, you know which are 1600s, 17th century, right. But, so, the next verse introduces that history. “The Castellum they come in 1539. They tried to change our ways, but we were doing fine. We said don't worry, we'll just be Hopi.” 1680, the Pueblo Revolt, 100 years before the American Revolution, in 1680, we kicked the Catholicos out. And “Awatovi sorrow”, which is referring to the destruction of the village in Hopi of Awatovi, which was a converted village which was obliterated. And it, it's not a proud moment, you know, for us it's a sorrowful moment. But it did end significant European contact with us for the next 200 years. “1680 we kicked the Catholicos out and Awatovi sorrow proved, there was no doubt. Don't worry, be Hopi.” Finally, the last verse brings everything full circle and it says, you know. “Still today we have our trouble. The United States, they try to bust our bubble. They say, don't worry, you know, be Hopi. Peabody Coal has been full of lies. They say they don't know why our springs run dry. They say just stay in your corner of Northern Arizona and just be Hopi. You know, there's so there's the, there's the Snowbowl. There's the Grand Canyon mine. The desecration of our sites and shrines. And still they keep telling us: hey, don't worry, just be Hopi. There's so many things in this world we see, and so we cry out [Hopi], which in Hopi means “have mercy upon us”. [Hopi], which means we've all become so out of balance. We've all become so unHopi. Don't worry, be Hopi. And then the song just ends with don't worry about a thing. Bob Marley's words, because every little thing is gonna be alright and I feel like that's also true. Yeah I mean, if our focus and the trouble is on the eternal things: the rising and setting of the sun, the movement of the of the stars, the movement and cycles of the moon, the cycles of the rain. If our focus is on those things, you know, we we stay harmonious, you know? I think we need to stay alert to everything that's going crazy around us, but you know, it's very important that we stay centered and visit the Grand Canyon.
ALICIA: So if people are looking to, like if listeners are looking, to hear that song or hear more of your music or learn about, you know, projects you have going on, where should they go to get more information about you or from you?
ED: Yeah. So I operate with flip phone technology half the time and the other half you know, if I have Wi-Fi, then I can get on Facebook page or Instagram page and that's “Ed Kabotie” Facebook and Instagram. And there's also “Tha ‘Yoties”, Instagram and Facebook. We don't know how to spell, so Tha ‘Yoties page is like T-H-A, Tha ‘Yoties Y-O-T-I-E-S. But - Tha ‘Yoties, short for coyotes. My YouTube channel actually carries a lot of cool content, I feel like, you know?
ALICIA: I agree. Yeah.
ED: Long, longer presentations, you know, visuals about performances, videos, what have you. So yeah, I kind of would push people towards that. One of these days I'll try to get a web page going. Then also there is some music on Spotify from Tha ‘Yoties in particular. Yeah, we'll get some Ed Kabotie on there eventually and get some new ‘Yoties recordings on there, as well.
ALICIA: Awesome, yeah, that's great, yeah. Thank you for that, that resource. That’s great. I really appreciate you sitting down and taking the time.
ED: Heck yeah.
ALICIA: Amazing to - to get to talk to you and hear you speak. And is there anything that we didn't touch on that you would like people to who are listening to to know about you or your work or?
ED: When I give talks at the Grand Canyon, I just remind people that in Hopi culture, people are watching the cycles of the sun, are watching the cycles of the moon, and are routinely expressing prayers for the world, expressing prayers for the Grand Canyon, expressing prayers for the harmony of all life. When people come to the Grand Canyon, I hope that maybe they'll catch something from that. And that when they go home, that they'll also do the same. We're sending prayers from our home to them. And I would just ask them: do the same for us, you know? Acknowledging, you know, things that have happened in our history and things that are taking place now, you know. We're always seeking lomakatsi the good life, you know, seeking that balance. And we hope that everybody else is too.
ALICIA: Thank you so much to Ed for coming out and speaking with us. We gratefully acknowledge the Native people on whose ancestral homelands we gather, as well as the diverse and vibrant Native communities who make their homes here today.
[Flute Music]
Ed Kabotie is an artist, musician, and educator from the Hopi village of Shungopavi and the Tewa village of Santa Clara. Join us on this episode of Behind the Scenery and hear Ed discuss his work, his connection to the Grand Canyon, and the messaging in his music. You can find his work on YouTube, Instagram, and Facebook.