I mean that my roots are buried deep in the earth that my grandpa’s house is built on.
I mean that I can swear that I hear the river whisper my name on the days, my head is too loud for my thoughts to breath.
I mean that I my heart craves the vibration of a drum so badly that sometimes its sighs well up in the corner of my eyes and fall just as soon as that beat shakes them loose.
I mean that my hands get fidgety right around the time the berries are ripe, and my knees start to curl a little more out of muscle memory.
When I tell you that I am Alaska Native
I mean that my dreams lie in the tiny hands of the little girls that call me ‘Auntie,’ even if they aren’t my relation.
I mean that my hopes rest in the minds of the little boys that can never seem to keep the dust off their smile and are outside as long as the sun will allow, preparing to be hard workers, before they even realize.
I mean that my ears have tuned themselves to the frequency that my elders speak at, and my voice to the station that they recognize.
When I tell you that I am Alaska Native
I mean that I am indigenous.
I know what ‘home’ means.
I mean that I am united.
I know what ‘family’ means.
I mean that I am strong.
I know what ‘needed’ means.
I mean that I am resilient.
I know what ‘recovering’ means.
I mean that I am smart.
I know what ‘learning’ means.
I mean that I am giving.
I know what ‘helpful’ means.
When I tell you that I am Alaska Native
I mean that my people are always with me.
Their smiles, embedded in my spirit.
Their laughter, ringing in my ears.
Their prayers, written in the folds of my hands.
I mean that my heart lies with my people.
When I stand here today,
Far from my home,
Feet planted firmly before you,
And tell you that I am Alaska Native,
I’m not talking about my blood quantum,
I’m talking about the essence of my being.
Lacayah Jane 