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A few days ago, Flood's marketing assistant sent an email invitation asking 30 or so people to visit Julie Larios blog, where Flood was being interviewed.

I joined the discussion, but sent to many comments. Larios decided to delete one of my comments, and not approve the others for upload. She asked her readers to come to my site to see what I had to say.

I reciprocate by providing the link to her blog and interview of Flood.

http://julielarios.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetry-friday-round-up-plus-nancy-bo.html

There, as here, I suggested that indigenous people of Saipan might feel the same way about dance as I do. Ms. Larios asked if my suggestion might be stereotypical, that I am lumping all indigenous people together. It is a fair question.

I made the suggestion, knowing that occupying forces treat indigenous peoples much the same. Wherever we are, we are called pagan or heathen. We are seen as "uncivilized" and there were concerted efforts to persecute us for conducting our ceremonies.

Because of all that persecution, indigenous peoples took those practices underground, guarding them carefully from outsiders. Many ethnographers and early anthropologists used underhanded and devious tactics to gain information that indigenous people did not want to share.

But back to Julie's question... did the indigenous people of Saipan guard their stories and dance?

I'm digging in, reading articles about Micronesia. Here's some of what I've read. This is from "Microneasian World War II Songs and Chants" by Tammy Duchesne. The article is in the MICRONESIAN JOURNAL OF THE HUMANITIES AND SOCIAL SCIENCE, available online here:

http://marshall.csu.edu.au/MJHSS/

"While doing research on Kapingamarangi, Kenneth Emory realized that many informants were reluctant or unwilling to let him have access to their knowledge and history."

Later in the article is this:

"While most Micronesian indigenous history is treated as intellectual property, carefully guarded and transmitted only under restricted conditions, stories of the war are largely free of these constraints."

Situating Flood's book in this context is interesting. She's telling a war story, which they do want told. But, she's also telling sacred story and describing sacred dance, which they do NOT want to happen.

In my post, I noted that I want to know more about Joseph's people being commanded to dance.

In the article I noted in the comment above, there is this:

"While in many cases song, dance, fiestas, feasts, or speaking the native language were prohibited, when they could get away with it, Micronesians subversively practiced their traditional culture to maintain normalcy and familiarity."

And,

"Although often prohibited, many Micronesians found ways to practice dance, song, (and love) discreetly and were eager to do so when they could."

Okay, I know it is unusual and unorthodox to post a comment about your mother's book, but I grew up on Saipan. Nancy Bo Flood is my mother and I spent my formative years in the Northern Marianas Islands, having frequent contact with the very culture that is currently undergoing a bout of literary tug-of-war.

Having been raised in the South Pacific, I have long wondered about the concept of cultural credentials or copyrighting. Does culture reside in our skin color? Our ethnic background? Our place of birth? Does the Ojibwa child born and raised in Minneapolis more entitled to his or her culture than an Anglo child raised on a reservation? What about people who have parents from different cultures? Am I relegated to be classified as a Colorado-an alone, my birthplace?

If the issue at hand is Nancy Bo Flood’s South Pacific cultural credentials, then there is in no contest as to her suitability as an authoress. Her closest friends included the previously mentioned “keeper of the dance”, Felipe Ruak, and his son Joseph. My father was one of the first (and few) Caucasian-Americans to be included on a traditional (i.e., sans compass, maps, and motor) canoe voyage from the island of Polowat to Saipan. He wasn’t invited as a tourist. Nancy was recognized by the people of Saipan, the CNMI Humanities Council, a council whose leadership is entirely local, for her work in recording traditional legends, compiling a book of local voices, and developing the first Pacific Native Literature course for the college. I sensed satisfaction in her work in promoting these little-recognized cultural masterpieces – the song, dance, and stories of the Pacific Islanders. These people are proud of their heritage, happy to have it translated for an English speaking audience through the empathy and careful research of Nancy Flood. I believe she has made clear that she was in accord with the wishes of Felipe Ruak in writing about the dance. For more information about the Rapagnor/Rufalawasch people and their history, I direct you to “Leiweila”, a documentary co-directed by a Caucasian-American poetess who also lived on Saipan for a long time.

Of course indigenous peoples do not wish to see their birthrights trampled on by the often blatant stereotypes that seem to plague children’s literature. By all means, please, tell the stories of your people. But I agree with Julie in that storytelling has always been a place for humans to stretch from everyday experience into the imagination. And this must be done with respect, empathy, and above all, honesty. I believe my mother has fulfilled these requirements, and through them has crafted a beautiful, rich, and important work.

Hi Macey,

I want to be clear on one thing: I don't think your mother was devious, underhanded, or deceptive, and I don't think she is being dishonest, either. I believe the statements she made at Julie Larios blog, where she wrote:

I worked for a number of years with Joseph Ruak, the current "keeper of the dance" on Saipan. Joseph was my cultural guide many times. His family is dear to me. His father, Filipe, to whom the book, Warriors in the Crossfire, is dedicated, and his mother, Rufina, are amazing people who survived the war, survived the long years of rebuilding afterwards."

I don't question the relationship she has with the Ruak family.

Where I disagree with her is on what she does with the stories.

Hi Debbie -

Thanks for raising an interesting discussion. What I found troubling about the comments on Larios' blog is the implication that it is an author's inherent right to portray other cultures and ideas from other cultures. Why would being a writer (or artist photographer, etc.) give someone this right? I lived for three years in Nepal, and I wouldn't begin to assume that I have enough knowledge or understanding to write a children's book about any of the diverse cultures there. Even if I did, I wouldn't write such a book because I believe it should be written by a Nepali, not me. I found Larios' comparison to Paul Farmer strange, because my understanding of Farmer's work is that having Partners in Health be primarily Haitian run is a key component. But an outsider writing a portrayal doesn't seem like an accurate comparison; I would think that the comparison would be an outsider encouraging local people to write their own stories, right?

Anonymous,

On Larios blog, Flood said that she hopes people will see

"the Rafalawash and Rapaganor people not as past tense, not as stereotypes, but know they exist and their children 'stare at the stars and reach for the moon.'"

She has good intentions, but, the writing itself does not do what she wants it to do. She affirms stereotypical and exotic "other" ideas about indigenous dance and people.

One of the most powerful stereotypes around is about how Indian people dance. It is generally portrayed as a frenzied, wild sort of thing. In my blog post above I provided an excerpt from page 40. Here's more (page 41):

"Usually when my father danced, he laughed and joked, urging us to dance faster, sing louder. He would leap high into the air, twisting and spinning, sweat flying from his wild black hair."

"wild black hair"---See what I mean?

And in that excerpt from page 40 "gleaming with sweat and coconut oil" and on page 74, Joseph's father's dark skin "glistened with oil." That is the exotic other.