 and I have the honor of indigenous playwrights, theater makers, and storytellers. I have the Okikaya Cultural Center curated by one of its directors, Ronda Anderson, and partnership with Okikaya. The Okikaya Cultural Center is founded as an anonymous indigenous space and is the first of its constant colonization in Western and Central Mass. It is a much-needed, multi-cultural and multi-tribal space for traditional life in the environment and on the traditional land that can get lost in other tribal nations, living or from the environment. The Okikaya Space was donated by Appalachian recognition of its historical and present-day denial of native sovereignty on the land and the present need to redress this erasure. As Okikaya, which means the plant to grow in the Netzla language, fulfilled the truth of its needs and grew beyond all expectations, Appalach also entered into the land-share agreement of our 100 acres in our rural town and traditional practice as a return for the land after over 500 years. I say all this to share that action is possible, repeated more than once. This joy of remade creation and cultural life and presence is palpable and brings meaning to the land, the people of double-edged and the communities. However, at the same time, we live in a fragile and violent world and joy cannot exist in a vacuum. The millennia-old story of the Native people and their continued presence must be shared in order to name truth and commitment to decolonization. Therefore, Okikaya's founders and directors Ron Anderson and Larry Spuddish-Proven have generously agreed to share beyond their own people this educational series so that our communities can learn about this long, unacknowledged history. This series is a place where the voices of Okikaya and Native people are determinant and have the final word on their own identity. The Living Presence Series 1-6 has covered a wide range of topics, including Native presence today and that relationship to their millennia-old history. Logos, mascots, imagery, and cultural appropriation. Land-bag movements and land-justice have been discussed alongside the complexities and effects on genocide, resettlement, and the imprint of continued racist stereotyping on today's lives. Living Presence has addressed the importance of Indigenous People's Day to those whose lives we continue to benefit from rather than a framing of those responsible for violence and colonialization. Indigenous art and social change included artists from this region and around the continent who presented their work and discussed and shared how they used their art for justice and course. One panelist loves this revolution of the heart. The Living Presence Series is a call for truth. It's a call for action, to look history in the face and see how we can heal the bleeding wounds, to ask for a commitment not only to listen and understand the story of these many peoples, but also to share responsibility for that story to live fully in the present and to make sure that erasure and disappearance would sway to reparation, equalization of our minds and our actions, sharing land, cultural space, and most of all, justice. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Alraum for broadcasting the Mass Cultural Council and local cultural councils, and particularly the sponsors of the Living Presence Series, Jacob Spillow, and the Mass Foundation for the Humanities Expanding Stories program. The Okeetano team includes the rights from Bearheart Games, Tracy Love-loving Medicine Eyes, Ramos, Manta Sylvester, Nazario's tall hair, Red Deer Garate, a youth president, and one of the founding groups, Jasmine Rochelle Goodsby. And now to introduce the co-founders and directors of Okeetano. Rhonda Anderson is a new P.A. at a basket from Tuscobar. Her life work is most importantly as a mother, a classically trained herbalist, silversmith, and activist. And she curated a bio-vibrant, visible indigenous identity through portraiture. She works perfectly as an educator activist on the removal of mascots, water protectors, indigenous identity, and protecting her traditional homelands in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge from extracted industry. And that light is also the curator of the Living Present series. Rhonda tirelessly works on representation from the statehouse to local schools and businesses. She is on the advisory board of the New England Foundation for the Arts. She was an advisor on decolonization on the past council for the arts. And most recently on philanthropy mass 52nd meeting, which is a lot of Rhonda's work right now is working with philanthropy to change their minds and hearts, as well as many, many panels. She is commissioner of Indian Affairs and Western Mass and chairman of Massachusetts. Eric Spotted from it is a citizen of the Nipma nation. He is a nationally acclaimed award-winning writer, poet, cultural educator, traditional storyteller, tribal drummer, dancer and motivational speaker, including youth sobriety, cultural and environmental awareness. Larry shares music, history, and culture to Nipma people as well as national and international ambassadors on Native American sovereignty and identity regionally and internationally. Larry's books include Morning Road to Thanksgiving, Drumming and Dreaming, and the Whisper Ambassador. Larry premiered his play, Freedom and Season, in the spring of this year and is currently making a film, a noki journey beyond the picture. Larry was the first Native to have shared a traditional Nipmaksong and land acknowledgement at the opening of the Boston Marathon and recently received the first Indigenous People's Award presented by the NAACP. Before we go into the next slide, I would like to share with you the first Native to have shared a traditional Nipmaksong and land acknowledgement in the spring of this year. Before we go on, I would like to say what a pleasure it is and hopefully it's not too much our fault at Double Edge that we're doing a play rights and theater living presence today. Thank you for doing that. Larry will now welcome you to the living presence of our history. Thank you. Welcome you all to Nipmaksong and welcome you all to the series. It's an honor to be here and open up with a traditional Nipmaksong song. I want to ask our other relatives here to help me welcome you on to our traditional homelands. Thank you for coming out today. I really appreciate that. Thank you for tuning in. Welcome and good afternoon. My name is Ronda Anderson. I am from Alaska and I just greeted you traditionally in my Nupia language. I want to take a moment again to recognize this land and I would like to thank you for being here today. Gratitude and acknowledgment that our collective mother provides everything that we need to survive. Tribes historically local to this area would be Sikoki Abinaki, Nipmaksong, Norwatic and Mohican tribes. War, genocide, dispossession and colonization of the Nipmaksong region. We have a reservation today in Stockbridge, Monsey West and the late 1700s through 1800s to Wisconsin where they have a reservation today in Manamini territory. Today the Abinaki are a state recognized tribe and Nipmaksong is a Massachusetts state acknowledged tribe. Please get to know the indigenous people of the Nipmaksong region. First recognize and make changes to the dominant narrative that glorifies colonization and genocide of indigenous peoples of this area. Please be mindful of the problematic terms like Pioneer Valley. They are a reminder of the legacy of dispossession, removal and subsequent erasure. We will look for the forthcoming resources list after this event to inspire you to learn ways to support, lift and center indigenous voices, narratives and public art. And lastly of course there are five bills that six tribes of Massachusetts support. Please visit maindigenousagenda.org to learn more information and learn more ways that you can support. Thank you for listening. Thank you for being here today. And welcome to the seventh installment. Oh my goodness, has it been seven? Seventh installment of living presence of our history. This is a conversation with indigenous playwrights, theater makers and storytellers. I am so honored to be here with you today. And thank you so much for being here today. We have such an incredible panel today. Especially during this time of year, when indigenous people are sought after to educate others about our many cultures. We are roughly 2% of the population in the United States and 0.6% in Massachusetts. So very few of us feel comfortable speaking in public. Particularly when we are siloed into these few short weeks every year, that's when we become visible. And please, you know, I feel like for me this has been a little bit challenging. I want to be upfront like theater is not my wheelhouse. But representation is. So in fact, like the few experiences that I've had with theater was really growing up. And that came with those horrible elementary school, high school plays and pageants that are always done this time of year. Plays that are extremely racist, full of stereotypes and cultural appropriation. Right. So for example, both my elementary school and high school did the play Peter Pan. You know, in the song, they sang that song, what makes the red man red? Annie, get your gun is another high school play. That was very popular. And with the song, I'm an Indian too. Yeah. I'm an Indian too. Those two plays have long histories of theater, green lighting, red face, and red light. And they are indoctrinated to children at an early age in public schools. Since I was a child, there has been an increased awareness of cultural sensitivities, racial inequities and the need for more accurate representation. So many schools, thankfully are now omitting these problematic scenes and songs. In the past 20 years, there's been a steadily growing, growing number of schools that have been affected by the pandemic and a starting agency over identity and representation. Indigenous theater has come a long way since the act as theatrical storytelling and playwright Raleigh Lynn Riggs. And we still have a long way to go. I plan to cover some of the panelists, personal evolution into Indigenous theater and the need for more accurate representation of how Indigenous theater can bring. And how finally to support the ongoing efforts as allies, accomplices and co-conspirators. So if anybody has seen the living presence, I'd like to do a quick round of questions with my introductions. I'll make the introductions much briefer than usual. So you may get to know our panelists, live experiences and something maybe perhaps beyond their biography. So let's start with Larissa, who is coming to us through Zoom from Big Bear, California. Right. Larissa Fasthorse is from Sishonglu Lakota Oyote Nation and is an award-winning writer and the 2025 MacArthur Fellow. Mm-hmm. Yeah, that's a. Her satirical comedy, The Thanksgiving Play, was one of America's top 10 most produced plays. She is the first Native American playwright in the history of American theater on that list. In spring 2023, The Thanksgiving Play will make its debut on Broadway. She is the first female Native American playwright ever produced on Broadway. In 2019, Larissa re-entered film and television by co-creating a series at Freeform and since then she has set up projects with Disney Channel, NBC and DreamWorks and is writing a series for Apple Plus as well as adapting three beloved Broadway musicals. So Larissa, welcome. Hi. How does it feel to be the first, oh, wait, we got it. Okay. How does it feel to be the first female Native American playwright to be produced on Broadway and the first Native American to be on the top 10 list? Who, and maybe, maybe you could touch on who came before you. Are you like breaking that glass ceiling for others to follow? So this, I'm sorry, this is a quick question. Okay. Thank you for that. That's a very generous introduction. Thank you. Yeah, you know, I always say, first off, I'm so glad you mentioned Lynn Riggs because Lynn Riggs is the first known Native, you know, I'd always say no, no Native American playwright was produced on Broadway and he's produced a lot. He had a lot of plays on Broadway. Unfortunately, the last one was in the late 1930s, although he wrote the play that Oklahoma, the book of Oklahoma was based on. He was not credited, unfortunately, as a writer, even though they took the same character names and many of the lines directly from his play. So I just always want to say that right away. Also, I always say I'm the first known Native American female playwright. I guarantee you we've had previous Native American playwrights on Broadway, but for various reasons that we all know, for safety, for, you know, simulation policies, et cetera, they perhaps have not identified themselves that I'm the first one that we know of. So it's a huge honor. And yeah, it's weird, it's wild. I'll say it's hard. It's hard being the only one. It's a very different world. And when I'm there, there's, there aren't other people to talk to about it. There's no one I can go to ever to say, you know, hey, how'd you deal with this? What did you do? How did you, you know, get through this? It's a very different world, the Broadway world. And there's a lot of pressure and a lot of things that happen that, honestly, it's hard. And having you on my play all over the country, I'm dealing with a lot of different folks all over the country. Now things have been placed in probably 15 places right now as we speak and maybe more. And it's hard when there's nobody else, when you're the only one, there's tons of Native theater artists. There just aren't any others like in the commercial world. So I'm hoping soon that will not be the case that I won't be the only one. And I'm excited because there's so many incredibly talented Native theater artists all over this continent. And I really am excited for how many more they're going to be by the time my play opens in Broadway. Actually I have a second play I'm working on for Broadway. So by the time that one opens, I expect I won't be the only one anymore. And I'm really excited for that. Oh, so excellent. Thank you for your work. Now I'd like to welcome Dr. Carolyn Dunn. Dr. Carolyn Dunn is an indigenous artist of Cherokee, Muskegee Creek and Seminole descent on her father's side and his French, Canadian, African, Tanaka, Choctaw, Biloxi, Ishaq on her mother's side. Her life as a storyteller encompasses both poetry and play writing and works about, and with works about family, grief, resilience and the landscape and all the genres and in between. Carolyn has published five books of poetry and two books on her plays forthcoming. Her plays, The Fry Bread Queen, Ghost Dance and Soul Dad, have been developed and staged at the Native Voices at Yachtry. Dr. Dunn lives part-time in LA and part-time in Oklahoma with your family. Dr. Dunn, I would love to start with your poetry, like books. Like I'm a book nerd, if anybody, like I ran out and I'm like, I'm buying books. It's a problem. I have a problem. I have read your book of poetry, Echolocation and Coyote Speaks, that you co-wrote with Ari Burke, which is just full of your beautiful poetry. Thank you. You write with such fluidity and ease. When did you start writing poetry? Oh my gosh, that, like Larissa said, you know, that is a very generous and loving introduction. So we're on the thank you for that. It's okay for that. Halito Chimichagma, Caroline Dunn, so Chaffayette, and I am Caroline Dunn. I bring you greetings in the Choctaw language. I, when did I start writing? Oh my gosh, I can remember going and being in there. And I tell this story a lot in third grade, going to the paper cupboard and cutting paper cupboard in half. I mean, cutting the page, not the cupboard, but cutting the paper in half and then just writing stories for my friends. And so it's always, I don't remember the first poem, but I know it was a long time ago. I know it was at least an elementary school, which was a long time ago. And so, but I come from a family, yes, honey. It was a long time ago. She's agreeing with me, the Liana. So coming from a family of storytellers and artists, it was, it just happened. It just came to me and I just started doing it. It was normal. Beautiful is what it is. Thank you. Thank you, Larry. Well, you need no introduction. He's been introduced already beautifully by Stacy. He's an actor. However, some people might not know that you've done acting a few times in television and movies. You had an active role in PBS's Native American mini series. We shall remain. And the first Patriots, as well as being seen in the X-Men, the new mutants that was released just a couple of years ago. We are not creatures. We are not mutants. However, most recently, you were also an actor in your own primarily solo performance theater piece, Freedom and Season. Did you find acting in these distinct genres to be very different? And if so, like, were there challenges? Thank you. Once again, thank you all for being here. Thank you. I think the Freedom and Season piece was like a whole different feeling, emotion, sensation in terms of like, and I'll get into more of that later, in terms of like talking about my ancestors through the Civil War and where their land was being taken, their children being taken. So it was really like a possession of playing that piece. And, you know, I had some fun in the X-Men with Adam Beach. And, you know, as an aside, you know, when I ran into the camera and smashed that $2,000 camera in my face, which is a really, you know, outtakes, maybe some of the other being bloopers, but those instances of being in film, you know, it was a lot of fun. And as you mentioned, the PBS We Shall Remain was a very powerful piece that we got to work on, open that up, working with Chris Ear and many others developing that. And again, doing the We Shall Remain, we got to just be who we are. And so we were kind of guiding that process. And, you know, so I think when Indigenous folks are allowed to guide the process and be interactive and engaging in the things that they're creating, it really gets, we get so much better results and who and what we want to share. So thank you. Beautiful. Well said. Thank you. Rebecca. Welcome. Rebecca Podleski is an Anishinaabekwe, an Ojibwe woman, and a member of Zibaasing. Zibaasing. Zibaasing. She is the first nation on Manitoulin Island, Ontario. She is a mother, a wife, a teacher, an actress and a playwright. Rebecca is the chair of the Sugar Island Powwow Committee and been a member for 17 years. And works for the Sault Ste. Marie tribe of Chippewa Indians, early Head Start program. Rebecca has been with Anishinaabe Theater Exchange since the beginning and is a playwright for the play 50 years ago. She is a playwright, a play about native fishing rights and reflections, which is a play about murdered and missing indigenous women and the underground sex trade. Rebecca believes being able to tell stories of her people, the ancestors, the struggles and the trauma speaks to the perseverance as a people and as a culture. Rebecca, who are your mentors in this work? What inspires you to write plays? That's a tough question. Me, which? Being with my A.T.E. aunties, the auntie squad, Colleen Madison and Tamantha Sylvester, Caroline Dunn, and Gaila Ayansel. We've all had traumas in our life, whether it be a trauma that you have personally experienced or a blood memory trauma. Having those chances to write those plays allows me to heal from everything that I've been through personally and I feel that it's something that gives our people the chance to have that voice being heard because we've been silenced for so long that we now have that opportunity and bringing, using theater to bring real world issues to the stage so that we can speak and we will be silenced no more. Thank you, powerful. Jasmine, Michelle, good speed. I'm so happy you're here. Thank you for coming. Jasmine is a member of the Knitmuck Nation and is a Massachusetts-based actor, singer-songwriter, playwright, and director. Prior to the pandemic, she produced free Shakespeare plays in the Look Park, which is a local park, for five years under the name and I love this, Billy Shakespeare Shakespeare. Jasmine has written, produced, and acted in a musical about her tribe titled 1675 and told the story of King Philip's War and the Tragedy of Deer Island, which is the story of King Philip's War and the Tragedy of Deer Island, which was performed at UMass Amherst to full houses each night in 2018. Yeah, Jasmine, you were recently invited to the First Nations Native Performing Arts convening in Portland, Oregon. That must have been amazing. Can you speak a little bit about how you may have felt perhaps inspired to be at that convening? Could you talk about an introduction? Yeah, it was just amazing being around so many other Native people and Native artists and hearing their experience with their art. There were a lot of sound artists there, which I thought was really, really interesting and got to just go to the performances. A lot of them sound-based and one that stuck out to me deeply was one where we were walking through this space and just experiencing these sounds, these speakers all around us. They were just like, just, and it was very different than, you know, your traditional walk, like being in a theater space, like people were standing at first and then they were like, just walk through. And it just changed the whole thing. I think that, to me, it's a lot of what Native theater is. It's not quite what you expect when you walk into a theater room. You're thinking, okay, all right, we've got to act a certain way. No, actually, this is more about living. This is more about sharing. This isn't about, like, what you're trying to, like, I don't know. There's something more to it that's deeper and that's connected to everyone. And you're just instantly welcomed. And I think that's something that I'm learning every day. But as I grow, just the welcoming part, being welcome in spaces and welcoming other people into spaces and just always feeling like we are all connected. That must have felt so empowering just to feel that connection and to feel seen and feel heard and be heard and hear. That must have been really powerful. So thank you for sharing that. What an amazing person. Oh my goodness, we are honored to have you. So Tamantha is a multidisciplinary storyteller, actor, musician, songwriter, playwright and beater. Who now resides here on Okateo double edge grounds. She believes that storytelling is a practical foundation for healing, joy and knowledge. She draws together traditional Ojibwe knowledge systems, along with scientific and philosophical inquiry into her work on art and survival fellow through Betty's daughter's arts collaborative and double edge theater. Her works Now You See Me and Something Else has had readings through the Anasha Nabe Theater Exchange and the Eugene O'Neill Theater Center. Her solo piece Something Else. Anybody see that this weekend? Yeah, lots of hands up for water. Something Else has been performed at the Art of Acting Studio in California, Theater in Massachusetts and Georgetown University in D.C. Tamantha. As a part of Anasha Nabe Theater Exchange, you were hosting an incredible eight part series titled Wellness Through an Anasha Nabe Lens. That series introduced the audience to key elements of Anasha Nabe Lifeways and broke down how these gifts and responsibilities have the power to enrich our cultures, our personal journeys and even global society. How does traditional Ojibwe knowledge systems work to inform your playwriting? First, I want to say that I co-hosted this workshop series with Colleen Medicine. So that work was, you know, 50-50. It was very powerful, very good. That was a journey. And the thing that I've learned with art specifically is that there's actually, I've learned that there's no word for art in our language. And I was taught that that's because everything is art. Everything is beautiful and everything is interconnected in that way. And so when we started this workshop series, we were like, yeah, this is all, this makes sense. This is wellness. This is health. This is going to help us, not only us, but hopefully other people on our journeys through life. You know, I think Colleen said, or somebody said, we're just walking each other home. And so art, I believe, is a way to do that. And using the seven grandfather systems, which is, or the system is, which is like bravery, humility, respect, using those concepts to share what stories want to be told. And that's really, it's a driving force, I should say, these teachings, the seven grandfather teachings, the, that's because like, who gets to tell the story? Who's telling the stories now? Who has permission to tell the stories? We need to tell our stories too. So that's all these things come together and everything's interconnected in that way. Thank you. Process, process is very important. Rebecca, while we're still thinking about a national, a national theater exchange, how did ATE form? And I don't know, what was your first play? Okay. So coming from a long line of storytellers, I usually tend to take the scenic route, but I'm going to try and shorten it. So Anishinaabe theater exchange started with a collaboration between the University of Michigan and the East New St. Mary tribe of Ojibwe Indians, or Chippewa Indians. And they had been, you have them had been brought up to, you know, do some performances at LSSU. And we, we all individually were, were reached out to by Anita Gonzalez to, to play a role in this, in this part here. Mary Catherine Nagle's sliver of a full moon. That was our very first performance. And it was a full reading. At that time I was a six months pregnant with my daughter. So I was like, but it was very powerful. It was very powerful for all of us. Some of us, myself, Colleen medicine. We do not have formal acting training background. But through that play, we were able to find that connection and find that healing. And that's what for myself personally really set me on this road of playwriting, because I want to be able to, you know, to share our stories and to be heard, because we've been silent so much. So after that, Colleen medicine, Samantha Sylvester and myself, along with Anita Gonzalez, we kind of collaborated for about a year, toying with the idea of creating ATE. It was about a year and a half later, I was asked if I could write a play about the, the something that is close to the tribes that I live near. And where I live, it's the fishing rights. It's the fishing rights, how the struggle of those fishing rights. So I wrote that growing up in that, in that time. I had a lot of that knowledge from what our fishermen went through. I also conducted interviews with some of our local fishermen, who had experienced that. And everybody in my area knows about big A blah blah. He is the one that purposely allowed himself to get arrested to start that snowballing of that, that lead location of the fishing. But prior to that, our men that would go out and fish just to feed their families would get shot, would get, would get murdered, would get, they would drown. They would drown just trying to feed their families. So that was very, very close to my heart. So I wrote that play in addition to doing a partial play of Carolyn Dunn's The Fry Bread Queen. So we did these together. And after that, we got together again. And said, yeah, let's, let's do ATE. Let's do this, you know, this is, this is important to us. This is something that we need. This is something that our people need. So yeah. So the three of us, Samantha, Colleen and myself, we have all been involved with ATE since the very beginning. And here we are. Thank you for sharing that important story. I think it's really important to hear. There's very definitely this connection that is made with indigenous cultures of storytelling and that shift into play writing. And with indigenous playwrights, I have noticed, you know, somewhat of our cultural protocols, our ways of being our indigenous ways of seeing the world. Are being written into scripts. And I saw that this weekend with the reading of how we go missing. Obviously a native play, but it contains certain aspects that are weaving stories, poetry, protocol, and even ceremony. So Carolyn, you, the storyteller poet playwright. How did this transition happen for you? How did you become a blended storyteller? Playwrights. Directors. Dramaturg, all of those, all of those wonderful titles. I, you know, it, like I said, it just was a natural progression. I feel like me being a storyteller and a performer to and a writer from very early on, to be able to tell stories in that way. I think I became a poet because a little bit lazy, you know, so in the, which is not to say that poets are lazy. I didn't mean that at all. I just meant that I don't, you know, I like to write preform. I don't want to have to worry about my grammar because I am an English professor in addition to being a theater professor. So I'm like, grammar, grammar, grammar, content, content, form, form, and all that Western stuff. And so I think being a poet, I was able to, I feel like get to the story faster, but I talked too much. So then I thought, well, maybe, you know, I used to write these huge long epic poems and I said, well, maybe I should, I should, I, you know, go back to playwriting because I had been, been doing playwriting, but in middle school and high school and college, you know, I sort of became known more as a, as a poet and then I went back to playwriting not until, I don't think professionally until the early 2000s. So, so it was a very easy transition from, you know, from going and I'm, and I'm not, and I wasn't at the time nor have I ever been like a classically trained poet or a classically trained fiction writer, you know, or a classically trained storyteller, whatever that means. If it was, if that meant hanging out with my uncles and my aunts and my grandparents and listening to those stories, then yes, I am traditionally and classically trained in that way. So, so in terms of, you know, all of the things that we have to teach, story structure, you know, we have to talk about Western ways of storytelling. And, and I don't really do that. Even as a teacher of creative writing, you know, I say you have to start with the characters. You have to start with who are they? What is their experience of the world? What is their experience to one another? And the story will come out of, out of that. So, as a, like I said, as a, a poet playwright, that's really what I concentrate on the most. And the, the more that you know the characters, the, the easier the writing of the story will be because it will just come to you. And that's how, you know, we, when we were developing how we go missing, we, you know, when that came out of a commission from the center and center for performance and politics at Georgetown out of this, out of the gathering to write a play about missing and murdered Indigenous women from the perspective of missing and murdered Indigenous women. And so that's how, that's how we were able to, Samantha and I had a writing and being working weekend that really turned into a one act play at a, at a certain point. And so, and, but again, with an eye to Indigenous storytelling technique that the story is shared by the community. And so the fact that that, you know, again, right now it's a one act. We are going to develop it into a full length play. And, you know, we feel that this, this story is very important. It's been a little bit of a struggle to tell it at certain points, you know, given, given the pandemic and given what's going on in the world. But, you know, again, a wonderful opportunity to share that work, which is very much rooted in a community based practice of theater pedagogy. She said, putting her academic hat on. You know, that, that really the work that we do is very much centered in communities and community based. And the stories that we tell are very much centered in that community practice. So let me get this straight. You wrote how we go missing, which was based about a beating circle while you were beating. Yes. So it was like our imitating life. Yes. Very much so. And we decided in that moment, it's just a beating circle. And then for, for the men, it's going to be a drum circle. Oh, that's beautiful. Yeah. Continue to be continued then. To be continued. Larissa. Hi. You went from ballerina to choreographer to film writer to play right. What took you on the journey from film to plays? And how has agency over stories been important to you? Yeah. First off, don't let Carolyn Dunn fool you. She's one of the least lazy people I know. When you said that, I was like, that was not true. Yeah. Anyway. Stories. For another time. Yeah. So my transition. You know, I was, I actually like Carolyn too. I'm not formally trained in writing at all. I became a writer. On my own through kind of an immersion base. I guess I did a lot of jobs as an intern in Hollywood. I live in Los Angeles or near Los Angeles. Where my husband's from. And I did a lot of jobs to kind of learn the business of writing and then learn how to write from different mentors and such. And kind of created my own education. And then I was really fortunate to sell a couple of pieces. Really early. I sold two TV shows quickly. To team Nick and to Fox. And I found out pretty quickly. Then six months of developing both those shows. And that was when I was a brand new writer. I had no agent. I didn't have anybody. I didn't have a team. As they say. By the time those shows. Both didn't make it on the air. I was relieved. Because at that time. You know, that was about 14 years ago now. The indigenous representation of people in Hollywood was terrible. And the watering down of my indigenous characters. Was maddening. And it was constant. And I just didn't have the power of the people to fight it enough. And I felt like that's all I did. I just fought constantly. And I wasn't enjoying myself at all. I was really hating actually. I had these incredible opportunities. And I was hating them because all I was doing was fighting every single day. And losing more battles. And I was winning. When you write and film and television. They own the work. I don't own it. I'm just a writer for hire. Even when I create it. They can go off and write it with someone else. I didn't put another writer on it at any time. So I could be fired at any time. And they can take my ideas and develop them with someone else. So you have to constantly be compromising. And I just wasn't willing to spend the rest of my career doing that. Unfortunately, right around that time, I was commissioned to write my first play at the children's theater company in Minneapolis. And that's where. When I went in, I said, look, you know, things have to be different. I just, I can't work like this. And I just, you know, when I went in, I said, look, you know, things have to be different. I just, I can't work like this. And it was when I discovered that theater at that time was willing and eager to try to change and to do things differently and to do things better and to represent indigenous people in the right way. So I really just saw that that was a place where. I could not just create work, but I could change the field. I'd already had a very selfish career as a ballet dancer, like the most selfish career. It's just all about you and staring at yourself. And I really wanted my next career to be something that was for the people in some way and that was creating change for others. And so I saw in theater a way that I could really create change in a whole field, as opposed to just making work for myself. So that's what I've done. You know, I really devoted myself to that in every single from my very first play and all the work I do, I do a lot of service work, a lot of work on reservations and such and all of that is because, you know, theater is natural. It's what we do. It's what we've been doing for since the beginning of time. It's just, I can take some skills I have from the Western theater world and just sort of translate between our traditional ways of storytelling into the Western presentations of storytelling. And then I also create work that's in between the two. And so I've been really fortunate that theater has embraced me in that and has really, you know, been good to me as you heard in my bio. It's been really good to me and I'm so grateful for that. And now I'm back in film and TV again, because now everything's different. I have agency, I have a team. I can insist that things are done right. And I can insist that I only do stories in certain ways and with certain people and that the right consultants are hired from every tribe and that everybody's paid and all those things that they weren't willing to do 14 years ago in film and TV, they're willing to do now, which is really exciting. So I'm doing a little bit of film and TV, but next year I have five plays. I don't have a lot of time for film and TV. I've got five new shows next year. So I'm mostly focusing on theater right now because that's my true love, but film and TV certainly has a bigger reach. So I'm excited to be able to work there as well. Oh, that's amazing. I'm really, I'm excited to hear that you're going back into film and TV like film and TV is sort of exploding right now with Indigenous representation. You know, for the first time ever, I have choices on my streaming device, which Indigenous program do I want to see tonight? Which, so I'll be really excited to hear about your upcoming projects and add to my choices of being mirrored in society. So thank you. And this, this agency over identity, it really has been a long, a long struggle for Indigenous peoples on Turtle Island. Native playwrights have not had visibility in this genre in a relevant way until the last few decades, last 20 years. And commonly, you know, plays really leaned heavily on stereotypes and caricatures when Native people were introduced or included. And it told a vastly different story than an accurate history or accuracy with contemporary issues. I'm going to quote the words in your online bio and comment that because I feel like it's a really, it's a summation of where I want to go next and the summation of my thoughts here. Quote, language and stories play a significant role in our world and have the power to shift and change our realities. We are constantly surrounded by images and language. The type of language we're using, the stories we are being told by are critical when shaping a world of truth and connection. Beautiful. That power of language and stories are critical when thinking about how the lens is being applied. In recent efforts to decolonize spaces by acknowledging the harmful settler colonial impacts and in turn, also having that agency over identity and language and histories, there are some powerful Indigenous plays that are using storytelling methods, essentially, to educate. Larry, you are a professional storyteller of how many years, 30 years? Yes. I know. Quite a while. And you turned playwright to tell one of these powerful historical stories with your play freedom and season. How do you see using theater as an educational role and why was that important to you? How did you get there? Yes, thank you. I'm a writer with encouragement from Stacey Klein. I jumped into the play writing. As a writer, I began the process as a writer and developing the play. Before I knew it, I had about 500 pages. I began thinking about storytelling. As a writer, they tell you you're showing not telling, but as a play, you're using your body, your voice, your physicality, your emotions, and much like in storytelling. So, yeah, freedom and season, it was a very even now sitting here thinking about it. It was such a moving experience to dive into not only the research to further look into what had occurred here, but to then actually relive the life of my great-great-grandfather. So, the play centers around my great-great-grandfather from the Civil War soldier. He died there in the field. While he was there, I died because Native Americans, they were not citizens at the time. So, he was actually a ward of the state. And so, his land was confiscated. And, of course, his wife was also a nitmunk. She, a woman, could not own land. So, they confiscate the land and they take the children. And this went on and on and on for my family. There were three generations of children taken from our family. And in fact, my grandfather's oldest brother, which is her great-grandfather, was the last one taken. He was born in 1897. My grandfather was born in 1906. Just missed that. And as you mentioned, Rhonda, I work with the Bunker Hill Community College on developing curriculum. That's been a lifelong passion of mine, as well as the work we did with the Massachusetts Department of Public Health creating curriculum for indigenous youth to help prevent substance misuse and deal with bullying and using our traditional approaches to kind of deal with that. Because we know Euro-centric approach is not yielded good results. And so, I'm excited about the work we're doing creating this indigenous curriculum across all disciplines. And so, freedom and season, it was, in some sense, it could be considered a daunting task because I know there's a lot of Civil War nerds out there, right? People who know all the ins and outs, but we know very little about the black and brown troops. And so, just diving into that history and then walking back in the shoes of my great-grandfather and thinking about, there were over 60 Nipmuc men there fighting at the same time. So, and this was happening over and over again to my relatives. And you think about during that time, there were probably about 2,000 to 3,000 Nipmucs in total from a number that was probably over a million at time of contact. So, this was a devastating impact on the community in terms of usurping land and children. So, this was going on and on. And so, you know, and thinking about the conditions there, anybody knows anything about it. The conditions were already horrendous for a Civil War soldier, but now when you're taking the black and brown troops, it like triples, right? And so, when I started developing the play, I wanted to really think about all that and think about, and as Carolyn mentioned, the place, right, and time. And so, this was a man who never gone to school. He was a farmer. He lived all his life using his hands, I mean. And you think about some of the things that were going on during his life because people will ask, well, why did the natives even join? You know, this was when the Trail of Tears had just opened up. Boarding school systems were in full swing. Oregon Trail, the California Gold Rush, Congress passes the Indian Appropriations Act, which is essentially saying Native Americans are confined to a reservation, you know, like we're some kind of zoo animals. We couldn't leave without a pass. And here in Massachusetts in 1869, the Infranchisement Act was passed, which was the detribalization of our people. This was another way to sanction land theft. And also, you know, during that time, Lincoln creates this myth of Thanksgiving. You know, this is where it really comes into fold where, you know, we have this idea of pilgrims and Indians coming together in this, you know, lofty dinner and all that. And so, I'm looking at all these different situations that are happening. And, you know, and when I put that piece together, so, and the story takes place while he's in the field, he's at White Hall in different locations in the field. And he's kind of reminiscing not only on ceremony and home, but also on his life and finding that humor. You know, you've seen the play, you know, that there's these very funny parts in it. And it kind of emphasizes that native humor, that spirit of buffering that pain through laughter and trying to, you know, kind of mask that pain, because, you know, that's all we were really doing is masking it, you know, and that generational trauma which had carried on. So, I use this opportunity in that short piece to hit home in the same way I use my writing is to use it as an educational opportunity to tell a story about what's going on in his life, you know, and he'll mention parts where he doesn't have the right to sing and, you know, and reminding the audience that have come into his world, you know, we can't really tell anybody that I'm speaking my language because, you know, I can be, you know, put in jail or worse. And then, you know, we've recovered some of the original letters that we had from that, which is really powerful when I shared part of that in the play. And the humor of my ancestors, you know, our relatives where he talks about sleeping in the tents and the bed bugs and termites were so large that they would use bow and arrow practice and one would drag them out of the bed at night if he missed them. You know, these humorous letters and it's just really powerful and how they would share that. And so I wanted to bring folks into that world and really dive deeper into understanding what happened to our people and why things are the way they are today. And I think having that agency and having that ability and, you know, being in spaces like this to get that opportunity. And I think about where would we be without being able to share these stories, you know, and this is, and as Larissa mentioned, we're just at the beginning, we're just at the tip of this. It's like really exciting to watch this developing girls. So it was really exciting for me to do that. Thank you. Yeah, thank you. And I appreciated how when you were telling the story of, you know, the correct history and something that not very many people knew about, you were also telling stories of the seasons. Yes. So you were doing like a twofold storytelling. Like that was just, that was beautiful. And Jasmine, when I met you, Oh my goodness. So it was 2016. You're a UMass student. And we were headed off to the ceremony of the dear island paddle. And you were working on making your musical 1675. Can you talk a little bit about what drew you to tell that piece, that educational piece, and what it is that you wanted to accomplish. I love history. And I love engaging with the stories with, with stories of people. And I always have. And I have a tendency to talk to the people around me as if they know things that I know. And then learn, oh, I have to see if they know that first. And then in that realizing that no one knew anything about the island or King Phillips war. And that I talked to at all. I was like, whoa, why don't, why don't people know this? Why don't, why is this not just common knowledge? This is one of the most important pieces of history on this land. Like, especially concerning the evolution of the Americas, right? Like it's, it's a turning point. And the story of the island itself is just so extremely tragic. I mean, talking about the boarding schools talking about taking children away. It begins much, much, much earlier. Right. It begins with these. There were praying towns that were established by Reverend John Elliott. He came about 19, like the 19, or 1630s. And he was Christianizing native people in Massachusetts. And a lot of these people, Nipmuc people. And around the time the King's War happened, the general court of Massachusetts said, okay, we're gonna use that. We're gonna keep them in that spot. And there was essentially a lockdown placed on that. And then from that lockdown, there were in the middle of the night, in October 1675, they showed up with chains and carts and they took people away. There were about six carts for 200 people who lived in the town and they just showed up at midnight and they said, all right, pack your stuff, you're leaving. And people begged them to tell them where they were going. They never did not until they were already going down the river to this barren island where they were not allowed to do anything to preserve themselves. And they were left there for nine months with nothing really. There were some provisions that were brought mostly though people came and paraded heads around and tried to get them to, sorry, content warning. No, not sorry. Know your history. But they tried to get them to be spies for them and tried to, you know, there's, and there were not all Nipmuc people, there were a lot of Nipmuc people. Our ancestors, definitely the people who are here today are people who survived that. That, yeah. And so I thought, well, I'm gonna tell this story. And I thought the best way to tell it without having it be three plays was to put it into music because I think that music speaks volumes where words cannot. And I decided to write a musical in about a year and put up a brand new show in about two months. No, no, no. And it happened and I'm looking forward to the process of doing it again, but with more time and giving it the great services, yeah. Beautiful, thank you for sharing that. And speaking of rolling heads and parading heads around, Larissa's like, oh, that's me. Larissa, I have watched and I have read the Thanksgiving play and I have read what would crazy horse do. You know, both have, and also going back to what Larry was saying, humor, both have this educational side that is painful and yet deeply satirical that humor. But in different ways, in the Thanksgiving play, the humor takes the edge off of some of the serious jabs that you're throwing at these performative white wokeness like folks and the dark humor in what would crazy horse do is almost coded for indigenous people our ability to laugh at painful topics. Is there a story behind the humor and Thanksgiving play and did you use humor perhaps maybe as the salve for ripping off their proverbial woke band-aid? Wow, for some proverbial woke band-aid. I like it, that'll be my next play. Yeah, you know, I always say to people, native people like on this continent and I'm sure on many others, but I'm only speaking for us, are living like the longest, darkest, blackest comedy, you know, there is, and we're still living it. We're living this black, black comedy every day, just the ridiculousness of our continued existence on this occupied land where we're still being erased. We have to laugh or cry. So, you know, it's just natural to use humor as Larry was saying, you know, in everything we do. I think, you know, for me though, also as a theater goer, I just, I love really, you know, difficult plays, but I don't like being like beaten over the head with things. And so for me, I enjoy, you know, getting to enjoy myself when I go to theater, I liked it, you know, whether that's enjoying the darkness or the music or the heaviness or, you know, the drama or the comedy. And I just happened to be a pretty good comedy writer. So my plays, I call them comedies, satirical comedies. And so there's certainly a dark satire. What would a crazy horse do, especially? It's a very, very dark satire. But it's interesting how many people, you know, endlessly, endlessly, endlessly still today after, you know, I'm writing all these comedic plays. I'm writing a full-out satirical farce for the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles next summer. But even then still people are like, ooh, I laughed, is that okay? Because they feel like, I don't know, native things can't be funny, which is just insane to any native people. That's all we do is laugh and we're together. So, you know, I'm always fighting with that, with, you know, wanting to create these spaces that are joyful and are fun. And kind of, I would say it's a reward by audience. Like you got off the couch, you came to theater and spent a lot of money. Thank you. Have some fun, enjoy, you know, having fun together. I'm laughter actually, like they have like the science of how much time, like you get back in your life from laughter, it's really fantastic. And so the more you laugh together, especially with other people, you actually add minutes to your life. And I was like, how cool is that? Like theaters are just lifesaving in like, you know, so many amazing ways, but it's also lifesaving that you're getting more time through laughter. And so that's something I love doing. I love getting in a room with laughing with people. And I love people that are non-native audiences, which, you know, to be honest, where I work is 90% of my audiences are not native. And so letting them see that we laugh, that we are, yes, it's okay that you laughed. And yes, we're funny. And that we deal with, you know, incredibly dark topics through laughter. As you referenced, there was one very, very dark scene in the Thanksgiving play that like Jasmine, I don't apologize for, it's true, it happened. It's reality. And it's funny because people get so free, non-native people get so freaked out. They're so worried about the scene and about staging it, whatever. And I say, just wait, wait until the natives come. And they're also laughing harder than anybody at like the most gruesome scene because we know it. We know this history and it's like, sorry, but y'all are gonna have to face it too. And, you know, you don't have to laugh at it. That's great. If you weren't aware of how gruesome, incredibly gruesome the history was around Thanksgiving and around, you know, the people that live in that area in that period and all of us, but this is specifically about them, then, you know what, you need to listen. And, you know, the native people get to laugh about it because we've been through it sadly and we're still going through it. And my hope is, you know, others can enjoy themselves, but also can learn some things and start learning more. That's always my goal with my plays is that you go home with more questions than answered than you had even before you went in and that you have to then start looking up the answers. And that's your job after my play. Beautiful. And I really appreciate, you know, I don't know how many of you have seen the Thanksgiving play, but there was one scene where they're putting together a play for school children and one of the possible scenarios is kicking around the heads of native people because that's what happened. It sounds awful, but it was actually, I die, I split a gut laughing. I was like, oh my gosh, for real? Like that was hilarious. One of the, right? One of the darkest things that you could possibly imagine was pulled off in such a way. I don't know, like I said. But what I think too, is that what she's also saying is that in Los Angeles, 90% or Tavongna, I should say, 90% of the audience isn't going to be Indian, but there's those 10 Indians in the audience that are just cracking up. Does that tell you? Yes. I mean, and the idea that we've been laughing at our own tragic comedy, for the last 500 years. So, of course it's funny. Absolutely. And Tamatha, you have written quite a bit of humor into your play, something else, right? And some of that, even the title is tongue in cheek, something else, because that's what, was it CBS? No, CNN, CNN called us something else during the last election cycle. So, yeah. Well, now we're creatures. Now we're creatures. Yeah. But you also educate in a pretty serious tone. And I messaged you the other day because when I rewatched your play, you had a quote. And finally, how the education system, the economic system, the justice system and any other system you can think of has failed each and every citizen in this country when it comes to inclusion and respect for the bodies beneath our feet and our descendants and their descendants, unquote, right? That was just really powerful, but you also have this way of being light and having fun, game show hosts, you know? So, what is your, you know, how do you use that humor to diffuse the audience that you're basically, you're educating them with seriousness? Do you use that humor as a connecting point or a diffusing point? All of the above, I would say. To echo everybody, humor is medicine, basically. And, you know, if anybody knows my family, you'll know that we just, we go nuts. That's my mother sitting over there. Yeah. Yes. But I also think of humor as a way to open up the heart space, specifically. And that's what I think, Isaac Murdoch talks about this a lot of revolution of the heart. And I think that's really a key component to where we're at as a society in this moment in time. We have to open our hearts to listen to each other and to actually move us forward together. You know, it's not just one group or the other. We have to move forward together at this point. And so humor has been you know, it can show you the middle ground type of thing and it can help us reach those moments of understanding of respect for one another, which I think we've also lost. I mean, where's the respect for each other? And this humor, it's also, it's not to negate the negative things that are happening. It's to make it more bearable and to just soften the edge a little bit, but yeah, that's, is that answer the question? Absolutely answer the question. No, you mentioned a little bit softening the edge and healing, humor, laughter is healing, right? So I kind of want to explore a little bit about how this work can be a form of healing. Carolyn, your plays such as how we go missing, Fry Bread Queen and Soledad are about deeply interconnected individuals that talk about intergenerational traumas, relationships, lateral violence, and ultimately healing. Do you consider this work to be healing with humor, healing with traditional protocols, healing through education? Is this a catharsis? Ooh, talk about an Aristotelian term. A catharsis. And I think it's very much related to what we've all been talking about, about not being afraid to showcase the humor and not being afraid to really go there. And I think in, like the scene in the Fry Bread Cream where Jesse puts the gun in the freezer, I mean, that's unexpected and then come to find out later what the gun was used for and those moments. And it's just sort of like Indians in unexpected places, trauma in unexpected places because that's where we find it. We find our trauma in unexpected places. And I'm very deliberate in my work about when you look at a scene or you look at how a play or how a story is crafted and I tell my students this, you look at how it's crafted, there's two people and they each have a secret from each other and they are not gonna give that secret up, so they'll change the subject when we start getting too close. And so I talk about in terms of scene structure, that's how you structure a scene and where are the turns? Let's locate where the turns are in each scene. And I am not afraid to push the envelope, especially with how we go missing in it can be very, those folks that saw it last night quite on Friday night, it can get pretty graphic in which the women are detailing sexual assault, Mikaela's character, for example. She really details her own sexual assault and because people need to know that this actually happens. It's fictionalized in that moment, but there have been other plays where I dress missing and murdered indigenous women and folks say, oh, you're talking about the such and such case that happened in Arcada, in Northern California, I said, no. I said, I didn't base that on anything because I know that this happens and it's a common story. So I am not afraid to really push people in emotional ways because this is the truth and the truth, again, in unexpected places, but also there's something in me that also that, I don't know whatever that little trickster comes out and says, okay, we got to put something funny in here to kind of lighten the tension a little bit. And that's for the audience as well as the actors because the actors have to go there. And in storytelling, you as the storyteller, you as the actor in the particular role that you're playing, you have to go there too. And so always putting in that little bit of humor to kind of give everybody a break and then come back in and say, okay, but we still have to talk about this. We still have to have this conversation and the fact that Larissa's talking about, all right, well, so are we gonna kick the heads of the Indians around? I mean, and that's, it's so horrible, but it's like, yeah, but it happened. And I'm not afraid to tell the story of this happening and we can't spare people's feelings anymore. I feel like when it comes to issues that are so prevalent in Indian country that really aren't anywhere else. And so we have to be able to continue to tell that truth in that way. Thank you for that. That brings up another question that I just, how do you take care of the actors? When they're taking, you know, three out of four native women suffer from either domestic violence or sexual assault. That's almost all of us. And these topics are really heavy. How do you take care of the actors that are doing this piece? Is there like a moment where there's a recognizing and releasing of this trauma? Yeah, we do, you know, in the work with ATE and Oklahoma indigenous and even, you know, to at some points, you know, with the Autry at Native Voices and we've incorporated this in, you know, at the university I teach at that we do smudge, you know, we do bring people in to smudge. We have, you know, we had a trauma consultant that we, you know, that I worked with before. I think how we deal with it as Anishinaabe Theatre Company is just to really tease each other, you know, and which is also a very, you know, when you're with family, you all know when you're with family, you know, oh, just the barbs just keep coming, just keeps coming. But it's all, you know, in a very loving and good nature way to keep us humble. You know, and I think that that's, you know, in production incorporate a lot of self healing, incorporate checking in with each other, you know, incorporate that in, incorporate that time for people to take their time that they need to come and honor that. You know, and I think and especially for those that are directors also that are, you know, are in this group to work with a director that has an understanding and a connection to the material and a connection to the actors to understand the work that the actors have to do in this particular situation is to give the care and the time that's needed for self-care especially. And to create that safe space in rehearsal. Oh, that's so important. You know, yeah, taking that breath, taking that moment and really processing. So now we've heard today how there's this natural connection between storytelling and traditional ways of transmitting knowledge through playwriting and how education and humor are really important companions. Finally, I wanna hear about how Indigenous theater has been supporting and lifting Indigenous communities in some pretty important ways. Larissa, I am going back to your conversation about how, you know, you have certain requirements and when you're doing a piece, I also remember you telling me how you were integrating a local Indigenous tribe to be a part of a performance by having an artisan market with local native arts and having conversations with theater staff regarding Indigenous protocols. And you've also said before that you have two requirements for doing a play. Can you talk about these requirements and teaching these protocols and inclusion and why this is so important? Yeah, thank you. Yeah, it was kind of just inherent in the kind of work I was trying to do from the beginning. When I'm creating a new play with a theater company, the two, I call them challenges I present to them, are one that I can't be the only native art in the season and I can't be the only native person paid when my play is going up in the season. So, and then I work with the theaters to figure out how to fulfill those challenges. One of the things I do is I have my theaters take what I time, I guess, training with me. I call it Indian 101. Really it's just a basic cultural competency, learning how to welcome native people into theater, the theaters I'm working in are primarily Western theaters. So that means they are white culture and they are very specifically Western white culture and it's fascinating how many theaters have no idea that they are a Western white culture and the completely foreign culture to many, many people, not just native people, but many people that live in the United States and they don't realize that it's not just why can't they learn the rules, but that it's a completely different culture you're asking us to step into. That we may not want to, to be perfectly honest and that we have to suppress so much of our own culture just to enter a theater space. And so I really try to help them understand that and see where they can start making changes and make the theater spaces that I work in primarily more welcoming to indigenous peoples. And specifically, they're local indigenous people. So that's one of the first things we start with is whose land are you on? What has your relationship been? If it hasn't been good or you don't have one, why, how do we start, et cetera? And that, you know, working with me and my play is a great place to start that relationship and hope it grows. So we do that, but yeah, then the amazing things have come out of it. Some of my plays have had, I've done three plays now with Cornerstone Theater Company and those plays are specifically in and with community. And so those end up being gigantic community affairs sometimes the one we did in Arizona had over 400 native artists working on it. It's incredible. We presented their work in the marketplace and performances before, during and after the theatrical part, you know, all through the show. It was really incredible. And we just give you space for native people to do whatever they wanna do for the local native people. I also though, in my plays really make sure that I was like I said before, hire a local consultants, cultural consultants, make sure that theater is paying if they wanna, you know, do a landing acknowledgement which many of them have never done still then I make sure they're paying local native people to help them with that work because that cultural work has been won through blood. And so I make sure that the least they can do is, you know, pay them some money so that doesn't cost them anything in material ways to do that work. I also try to make sure that when they're fulfilling these different ways of paying back, you know and then including a local community that, you know, whenever possible that it does include money, you know? They're profiting off of us, right? Everybody in this country is profiting off of blood money. So the least they can do is start some reparations by paying that money back to native people and putting it in our hands. So often that's turned into markets. A lot of my plays have native art markets in the lobbies and so it's great. And I said Kansas City Rep, the first weekend these ladies sold out all of their earrings. They're really upset because they're like, we just sold out all of our earrings in one weekend and, you know, powwow season is starting and we're in trouble. So, you know, we gotta get feeding really fast. But, you know, it's great. So, you know, we have people, we have white people with money who are potentially coming to my play because they have some interest in native American ideas and concepts and culture. And so I can use my theater spaces as a way to bring those folks together and let the white folks spend their money on native art. And to be honest, you know, it's been really successful. Every time we've done that, it's been really lovely and successful. There's been lots of other ways. We've had, you know, native caters now become like the official caters of different theater companies. We've commissioned native artists to do things in the lobbies. You know, there's so many different things have come out of just giving these challenges to these theaters and they've really stepped up to it in beautiful ways, commissions. Maddie Sayed is touring a show called Where We Belong and that actually was first presented through one of these partnerships I had at Playwrights Horizons where we, every Monday, we presented, during my play, we presented other native theater readings in the spaces, on the stage. And hers was one of them that we got up and it was its very, very first reading and now she's touring the country with it. It's at the Public Theater in New York. It's become such a popular piece. So I'm really proud of those things that have those first connections with theaters and native audiences that, you know, I'm able to help facilitate through my work and that's really why I do it, right? Is just to be able to, I would say for me, theater is kind of a money laundering scheme. I mean, it's a bad one because we don't get paid a lot but it's a money laundering scheme for me. It's a way to get, you know, grants and things and then pass it through to community and support community and other artists to continue to make their work. That's beautiful. Beautiful. There was a couple of things that you spoke about was two challenges. Why do you call them challenges? You know what? I don't like to demand because then it gets everybody scared. But if I challenge them, then they feel like they have to rise to the challenge. You know, I think, you know, demands frighten people and in general, to be honest, I mean, you know, theaters are always nervous when they bring me in. They know I'm gonna be clear. They know I'm gonna be honest. They know that I'm gonna work in a particular way that challenges them and stretches them beyond what they're comfortable with. So I try to like make the language something that they can rise to as opposed to, you know, a demand is something that you're budding against. The challenge is something that you can win and then they can do well. And I can say, whoa, good job, you won. You beat that challenge and yay, who doesn't wanna win? So that's why I use that wording. Yeah, that's perfect. That's really beautiful. I like, you know, what I thought about was like mission impossible at first, you know, your mission, should you choose to accept it? And then it blows up. But no, I like the idea of challenges because they really, truly are challenges when we're not seen in mainstream society. You know, how do people make a scene? And Larissa, I saw on your Facebook post recently about how you were when to go get tickets at the box office and what is the name under? Fast horse. Oh, and it went through this big long ordeal and you've also spoken about how you will train, you know, a front of house. If there's an elder, they get a seat. Sometimes there are names like fast horse. Can you talk a little bit about that kind of education as well? Yeah, it's, yeah, it's endless. I almost, I mean, still now, you know, I've kind of been in theater a while now and almost every time I go to pick up tickets. And in fact, once at a theater company that I was working in, my play was in the season. Behind me on a big screen, a TV screen from the box office was my head, you know, as it is right now. In fact, very similar to what you're seeing was my big head on a screen and my play going by because it's coming up next in the season and I went up to opening night and I asked the woman, I said, I'm picking up tickets for fast horse. And she said, well, first she said, I need your last name. I said, it's fast horse. She looked at me and she went, I need your actual last name. Here we go again. It's like, my last name is fast horse, F-A-S-T-H-O-R-S-E. And she's like, really? And I was like, yeah, you know, we went back and forth. Like it took a while and you know, the little box of tickets is sitting in front of her and my face is literally right behind me with my name on the screen. And I'm like, okay, you know, we'll just go through this again. And so I go through the whole thing until she finally literally like sighed. And this is a woman in her twenties. This is not like some old woman that we're always like making fun of or something. This is a young woman and it's a UCLA student, actually a theater student. And she rolled her eyes and said, fine. And like looked and saw that my name was there under fast horse. But this is constant. And of course then, so I go through this. I go through this whole song and dance. And then as soon as I'm done, I'm immediately because I have that agency and I have that privilege. I mean, immediately on the phone with the artistic director of that theater company, I say, hey, here's what happened. You need to fix this now. If you say you want to invite Indigenous people in and yet you make us fight for our name. And fast horse is in English. I mean, it's not even in Lakota. It's like, it's two really easy English words. But you know, I have to fight every time. And that's just part of, you know, people try to blow it off like it's, oh, well, you know, whatever. They're just not used to it. I'm like, no, that's the continued erasure of us as humans. That's the continued erasure of us as Indigenous people. The fact that they, you know, my name's already been shortened tremendously just to fit into English. And so, you know, what little bit of my name I have left I'm not gonna give up just before you, you know white people's comfort. So, you know, it's something that I am constantly educating folks on. I work with, you know, immediately I'm on the phone with artistic director and saying, okay, here's what happened. You know, you got to fix this now. And they have all found different ways to, you know remedy that whenever it happens, but unfortunately it continues to happen again and again. And it's exhausting. And it's wild too. Cause I'm like, how many people are like trying to scam their way into theater tickets using the name fast horse? I mean, is that a thing? People sneaking around, trying to scam opening night theater tickets all the time using weird names. Like you Smith, you know, Johnson, like that would get you in probably. I don't know. So anyway, it's constant, but it is part of our erasure. It's serious. So again, I'm laughing about it, but it's part of our erasure. It's actually, you know, getting rid of me as a human taking away my ancestors or trying to take my ancestors from me who carried that name through blood and death to give it to me who survived all those things, those hundreds of years of fighting and death to give me that name. And I'm not going to let them take it. And it's serious. And it's very upsetting every time it happens. So I keep fighting, but hopefully I won't have to fight too much longer. Oh, that's beautiful. And thank you for sharing that. And as well, making sure that there's proper remuneration for your staff and for everyone else who's working with the production. I think that's also very important. I know that here with double edge theater and with the performances in freedom of season, living presence, something else, National Bay Theater Exchange, that Stacey has been very clear that we have tickets for indigenous folks to come. We send personal invitations to elders and our indigenous community to be here and participate. We don't want to have a paywall. We want to have inclusion. And as well, Larry, after seeing freedom in season, we noticed that there was this need to have more education on the topic of your play. So that the audience would have a better understanding of what they just witnessed. And Stacey really heard our ask. And the following year, you set up a panel talk with scholars and tribal citizens after the performance. Can you talk about that importance of having a performance and a platform for the panel? Yes. Yeah, thank you. And thank you for all that, Louisa, because I just want to quickly mention too, growing up in the 80s as an artist, I've been doing this all my adult life. And as you mentioned about paying artists and many times folks would just to get their name out or their work scene, they were doing it for free because nobody would pay them or it was considered a niche genre. And so I'm just really... I'm so moved just sitting here and being in this place now of the access and an opportunity, even though it's still, we still have a very long way to go. And that's why I just wanted to hit on for a moment in terms of black and brown theater, whereas, you know, as Larissa mentioned, part of the main reason is funding, right? And so we know that white arts organizations generally get about 70 to 75% of their funding from everyday people, whether it's a dollar or a million dollars. And black and brown are getting about 6%. And for indigenous is probably even lower because we're not even quantifiable because we 2%, okay, thank you. And so if we're relying on grants and funding from the government, which are, you know, they're like jaundice most of the time. And so we have to shut down and we can't pay our people. So it's like go create your art or go to your job. And, you know, if you don't go to your job, your lights are gonna get turned off or you're not gonna get it. So these are the juxtapositions that we're put in to create. And I mean, this is like just, it's really mind blowing in terms of like the plays, the artistic development, all the different things that we've never seen yet have yet to be created. And I think Isaac Murdock mentioned that about when somebody asked him, what was the best play you ever saw? It probably hasn't been created yet. And like you mentioned, Rhonda, growing up the Peter Pan and the Thanksgiving and all these crazy things we're kind of inculcated into watching. And so there remains a tremendous amount of talent and creativity yet to be explored. And the way that's gonna happen is that we, as everyday citizens, and this is like my big plea to where I advocate quite a bit now is for folks, everyday folks have all walked over to invest in indigenous arts, whether it's a dollar or using your leverage to get access to help us be seen and help us not get stopped at the box office and create these microaggressions that continue to happen and kind of respect our agency. So going back to Rhonda's question and after I did freedom in season, as I said, it was a very moving, it was essentially like a possession, right? And even myself, after it was over, I think there was a primarily white audience and it was really, they were so jarred by what they just witnessed. They didn't know, they were kind of like avoiding me. They were like, are you even afraid to talk to me? Or, and then I was in an awkward position because I felt like I wanted some comfort after what I just shared. We talked about, you know, child's being taken away and you saw this man cry and fall to the ground as his children, as he's out there fighting for a country that still doesn't love him. And he gets this letter from home where his children have just been taken away because they're savages. And now he's like, what am I doing here? Like, and, you know, and so again, I think the audience was not emotionally prepared for it. And so I think a lot of the audience, again, it was primarily white. They just wanted to get the hell out of there or they were really trying to come to terms with a lot of the history that is still we have to deal with. And so we developed these panels to kind of address that. And Rhonda did an opening to kind of prepare folks. And then one of my elders, Cheryl Watching Crow, she came in the following year as we did the play and also brought in my other cousins to make it a more developed piece to be in the play itself. But after the play itself, we had a dialogue where she went through point by point on a PowerPoint and just laid out the history very plainly about here's the records, here's where the children were taken, here's where the land was taken and show the systematic erasure, the systematic abuse of children. And so that folks actually have something to dig further into and investigate and kind of really like reflect on and to see where they can lean into this, lean into their own understanding of what's taken place here. And so I was really pleased with the way that came out. I think that was really beautiful. And I think that it furthered these relationships as Larissa and you have both saying that we need to have relationships and have these relationships being built on reciprocity, trust, understanding, listening and learning. And so I have these hopes, I have these hopes that we're gonna continue to build relationships on laughter, on deep listening and have that growth happen even if it is painful to listen because growth is not easy. And I just wanna add to, as you just mentioned too, when you were talking about how do we take care of ourselves? And again, so that was the first time, that was like, I think one of the first opening nights of that play when I did it the first time. And so I wasn't prepared emotionally. And so, and I was reflecting that back to the audience that, cause I was like, wow, it wasn't this place, right? You know, and so, and as they weren't, and so we really had to, as you said, take care of ourselves, take care of the audience to help bring that context to them, like this is what's happening. So yes. Well, that was very important. And I did see that. I actually didn't know what freedom in season was about. I asked Larry and he's like, you know, it's about my, yeah, it's like, you know, you didn't wanna let in on it, you know. So when I actually saw it, I was like, I don't know. Shell shocked. I was kind of like walking away from this like, what did I just see? Does anybody else know what I just saw? Do they understand the history of what I just saw? Like there needs to be a further conversation. And then talking with Larry afterwards, you were like, nobody wants to talk to me. I'm like, the pariah here. You know, but that was that added to the trauma of doing an already traumatic piece of not being seen, not being heard. And how do you counter that? You counter that with additional learning and educational piece where there are other people in your community that come in and support you. So I did what I could. I opened up the evening with a little bit of a warning about what we were seeing. And we had other amazing acts with your first freedom in season. And so I was able to tie everything in together and prepare people that this is, you know, your entering ceremony is essentially what I said. You're entering into other people's traumas. So let's be respectful of that. And how can we support each individual artist as they're going through this? Because that's a lot to have to go through and relive night after night and not get any support afterwards, right? So these conversations are very important and our racial and social justice conversations, they are uncomfortable, but these are our truths. These are our stories. These are our collective paths that we need to come together in unity and in understanding in order to heal. We have to join together. You know, just being here and actively listening, right? That's a starting point. And I hope that you have found some inspiration through our panelists and playwrights throughout the weekend. If I hope that most of you folks have seen something else and how we go missing. And I'm sure some of you have seen Freedom and Season. But this is the important part, is deeply listening. I kind of want to open it up. We do have a couple of minutes of time, a little less than 10 minutes maybe. If anybody else on the panel has anything that they would like to add to the conversation. If we have any questions from our audience. Because I'm shocked, you know, I was like, I have to moderate a panel with playwrights. How am I gonna do this? Is that Janice? Janice. I'd love to hear what you guys think about one of my favorite films, which I always feel nudged up against. What do you think about Little Big Man? Oh, wow. I used to actually teach a film class, like images of Indians in film. And that was one of the films that I taught in that class. And, you know, I think each generation seems like it has its like, break through kind of native story. And, you know, and how I teach that film class is that I historicize for students what was going on at the world in the world. So Little Big Man, although it, you know, it had the story of a particular battle and there were native folks, native actors, on that particular set. It really wasn't about native people. It was about the Vietnam War. And it was an allegory for the war that an allegory for US imperialism. So to talk about it from in that sense, you know, that I think the next generational film would be dances with wolves. And, you know, even though that, you know, and historicize that film for its time when it came out, there weren't a lot of, you know, native folks getting work, you know, in terms of, you know, in terms of film work. And so, you know, and to actually have the language, to have the Lakota language there and to have Doris charging up teaching the language and teaching the other actors who were not Lakota, how to speak the language. I mean, I think, you know, again, to historicize it and say this was an amazing, you know, an amazing kind of watershed moment for native actors at its time, but then there was nothing for a long time. And I'm encouraged now with, you know, in Canada there's always, you know, there was funding for films about native folks. There's, you see a lot more native themed stories coming out of Canada because of the public broadcasting system in Canada because there is a little bit more visibility of indigenous people in Canada here, not so much. So it's really encouraging to be in this moment in time where, you know, that Larissa's talking about projects that she's working on. The TV series that Princess Lukash Johnson spearheaded that showed the PBS. Molly of Denali. Yes, Molly of Denali, sorry. I'm like, okay, somebody help me out and whisper it in my ear. Because I was having a senior moment. You know, that show, of course, Reservation Dogs Rather for Falls, you know, all of the shows all of our friends are getting, you know, and I, you know, because Larissa's right there in front of me in a screen that our friends are getting, you know, work on, which is really exciting dark winds, you know, that you actually have indigenous people that are serving as executive producers and show runners. That's exciting. And for, you know, the world to take notice that there is, you know, because in that world, it is about, you know, we were just talking about this with Mika this morning about this, you know, the sort of capitalist industry and, you know, and yeah, there is a lot of native people out there who have never really seen themselves on television until now, you know, so it's like, yes, there is a market even though we've been saying it, right? We've been saying it for how long, you know, suddenly now other folks are starting to notice. So, you know, green lighting, other indigenous, you know, film projects and series projects. So I feel like we're in an exciting moment now where suddenly other people who are in those positions of power are taking notice of the work that indigenous people are doing and the stories that we're telling, it is exciting, but we have to keep it up and we have to keep, you know, moving in that way. So I think, you know, a great question, you know, for that period of time, but the fact is that, you know, then how many years were there between so little big men and then dances with wolves, and then how many years between dances with wolves and reservation dogs, you know, I mean, there's, you know, a lot more years in between those two that there were little big men and, you know, but again, the focus of those stories was from a non-native perspective, you know, the narrators, the people we're supposed to root for were non-native and the native characters were supporting characters and how nice it is to see, you know, something, a TV series that's filmed in the Creek Nation in Oklahoma that, you know, you recognize all of the people, first of all, because all of the extras are people from that community. So you recognize all the, but then you recognize those cultural touch points and because you have two indigenous show runners running that, or EPs that run that show, we don't have to be explained to what this all means. You know, if you wanna know more about, you know, they don't specifically say that, you know, they're Muskogee kids, but, you know, one of the show runners is Muskogee and, you know, and that's all, like I said, it's all filmed in the Creek Nation. So, you know, but how nice it is to just sort of be dropped into that community and just kind of expect to know everything about that community is, and even if you're not from there. Thank you for that, and I really appreciate pointing out that sometimes indigenous stories get siloed into historical context and pointing that out and the contemporariness of the shows today as contemporary living people today and how we're represented in Reservation Dogs and Dark Winds and Rutherford Falls, which I adored Rutherford Falls. That was so much fun. Apparently they were working on trying to get it picked up by another platform, so we'll see what happens. Alaska Daily is another one that I'm getting into right now that's native written, it takes place in Alaska and it centers on murdered and missing indigenous women in Alaska, which has the highest rate of murdered and missing indigenous women and is mostly due to the extractive industry. And the least amount of protections under Obama. Exactly, and Wind River is another movie that was fairly recent, although it has a white protagonist who saves the day, but it talks about extractive industry and murdered and missing indigenous women as well. So that's another fairly recent movie, I would say with a pretty heavy indigenous cast. I know I'm missing some, but there's a lot of new work out here and it's pretty inspiring. I think one of the biggest struggles with being a native playwright is trying to break the stigmatization that when we tell our stories, to quote what my sisters and brother over here have said, is we use it with humor. But when others non-natives tell our stories of our past and what has happened, they romanticize a tragedy instead of letting us see it and letting the people see it for what it really is. And I think that's the biggest struggle with trying to break through to a non-native audience is when you are presenting them with this raw material. This is what happened to us. The biggest thing I go off of is the cartoon or story of Pocahontas. That was a story that was romanticized. It was a tragedy. She was one of the very first known victims of murdered and missing indigenous women. She was 13 years old, stolen from her family, raped, never to see her family again and died of smallpox at the age of what, 21, 22, after being forced to have four children by a man who stole her. Yes, they did. Now, this is something that has been romanticized. And I think that's the biggest segmentation that are one of the biggest segmentations that we have to fight with. I think, you know, this is something that happens to us and it's not something that just happened in the past. Right now at this very second, at this very moment in time, there is a woman out there who was being murdered. There's a woman out there who's being kidnapped, you know, and it happens every second of every day, but it's not made aware of. Thank you. No, watch Alaska Daily. It's a pretty important film of TV series and I'm very excited about it. It is that time to wrap up and I would like, you know, to end with a quote that was brought to my attention Friday night when I was watching Tamantha's play, Something Else, I was sitting with my newfound good friend, Dr. Robin Chandler. And at some point, she leans over and she says a quote from Amisa's air and she said, this is what I have in my mind. She said, quote, art. Is the only weapon we have against the deafness of history. So I'd like to leave you with that quote today. Thank you for being here. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you to our panelists. Thank you to everyone. Thank you, Larissa, for coming in on Zoom. I tried so hard to get her here in person. So thank you very much. Thank you so much for being here and all of your incredible voices. Thank you. I hope I did all right. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.