HERITAGE
LEADERSHIP*
Deep Partnerships
The grasshouse at Caddo Mounds State Historic Site at sunset. Photo by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Thank you to our contributing authors: Jackie Bullard, Lauren Toho-Murrow Haupt, Rachel Galan, Maggie Leysath, Christina Cid, Lisa Overholser, Carol Fitzsimmons, Pamela Blair-Bruce, Theresa Coble
*The posture of a heritage leader is one of cultural humility, a readiness to rebalance power dynamics, and reciprocity.
“…all flourishing is mutual.”
– Robin Wall Kimmerer (Citizen Potawatomi Nation), Braiding Sweetgrass
Theresa:
The University of Missouri - St. Louis (UMSL) heritage leadership program doctoral cohort gathered in St. Louis during a mid-January cold snap when temperatures hovered around zero. Besides students and faculty mentors, we welcomed a few guests from warmer climes, including Jackie Bullard (Caddo, Project Consultant), Rachel Galan (Assistant Site Manager), and Maggie Leysath (Educator/Interpreter) at Caddo Mounds State Historic Site (SHS) in Texas. Lauren Toho-Murrow Haupt (Caddo), who’s pursuing her Ph.D. in Native Studies at the University of New Mexico, zoomed in for a panel discussion.
Over four days, we discussed the topic of deep partnerships. At one point, Carol commented that our conversation reminded her of what Micah Parzen, CEO at the Museum of Us, said in an interview: “There is a process to go through, and it’s one of rebuilding trust and relationship…it’s about holding space for that process to occur. And then, no matter how messy it gets, to continue to show up…and to engage in deep listening to understand how to move forward.” We nodded. We need to hold space when things get messy, rebuild trust and relationships, and engage in deep listening.
The co-authors participate in a panel discussion about deep partnerships for the heritage leadership program doctoral cohort. Photo by Carol Fitzsimmons.
Hold Space When Things Get Messy
Christina:
Rachel, I’m thrilled that the High Desert Museum is working with Caddo Mounds SHS on a National Science Foundation-funded project called Sustaining STEM (#2115488) to explore what culturally sustaining STEM family programs might look like in rural areas. You’ve told me about the EF-3 tornado that ripped through East Texas on April 13, 2019. The tornado stayed on the ground for 44 miles, carving a path through a mostly rural and sparsely populated landscape. But Caddo Mounds, and the nearby town of Alto, Texas, took direct hits.
On that Saturday, you were hosting your annual Caddo Culture Day event and a busload of Caddo had driven down from Oklahoma. Talk about things getting messy, y’all rose from the wreckage. Texas Monthly highlights the ways you held space in the messy aftermath. You’ve said that the tornado deepened partnerships with attendees, including members of the Caddo Nation. Tell us more.
Rachel:
You know, it’s not enough for heritage leaders to focus on relationships with partners. They also need to think deeply about their relationship with their heritage site, with the place itself. When I started at Caddo Mounds SHS, I was very much just from a place. That was where I worked. I was passionate about the work. I grappled with the question of how to interpret somebody else's culture—and I was really proud of myself for grappling with that question. I wrote about it. There were publications. And eye-rolls aside, it was good work. I fulfilled the Texas Historical Commission’s mission when I reached out to visitors, provided meaningful interpretation, and showed respect. I truly cared about the work.
But the way I operate now, it’s different, and the tornado did have an impact. Shaho is the Caddo word for “tornado experience.” So many of us experienced shaho. We all bled in the same place, and we survived. Tracy Burrows (Caddo) says that shaho elicited a tribal response. We didn't have outside help for three hours. We had to keep each other alive. That created a different relationship between us. The work we’re doing now is deeper. In his essay "Small Gods," Martin Shaw explains it this way:
Getting Claimed
…I suggest a re-tuning of intention, a slightly more sober directive: to be ‘of’ a place. To labour under a related indebtedness to a stretch of Earth that you have not claimed, but has claimed you.
…To be of means to listen. To commit to being around, to a robust pragmatism as to what this wider murmuring may require of you. It’s participation, not as a conqueror, not in the spirit of devouring, but of relatedness.
…It means not talking about a place but with a place—and that’s not a relationship available indiscriminately, wherever you travel, but something that may claim you once or twice in a lifetime.
The truth is, deep partnerships might bind you to people and place. You’re no longer just an employee doing their job, you become of that place. Then you have to figure out, how does that change what I’m doing?
Maggie:
Not to point out the obvious, Rachel, but some people might balk at your deep partnership advice. Apparently, step one is “First you get hit by a tornado…”
Rebuild Trust & Relationships
Jackie:
After the tornado, Lauren and I participated in the second grasshouse build—a project that was led by a team of Caddo women. I’m very connected to nature, so gathering the building materials from the land, and honoring those spaces, meant a lot to me.
We assembled the frame from pine trees that we harvested. We made sure there was a firm foundation. We built a sturdy structure. The pine logs were like the bones of the structure, and they exuded strength. I’m a basket maker and a weaver, so to me the bones resembled a basket. We made willow lathing and we harvested switchgrass. The grass protects the house. When you play with grass, it’s flexible and pliable. But when it’s bunched together and fastened to the frame, it creates protection and insulation.
Once the grass was layered onto the wooden frame, the grasshouse exuded the warmth of home. If you’re a grandmother or a mother, you gather your children. You gather your Elders. You gather everyone. Gathering the grass together helps create a sense of home. When I talk about home, it may not be a physical place. Rather, it’s that gathering process, and the deeper connotations of what that means.
The grasshouse rebuild drew me closer to Caddo Mounds. It nurtured a desire to restore my ancestral homelands and revive cultural traditions. In some unexpected ways, Caddo Mounds SHS made that happen.
Lauren Toho-Murrow Haupt (center) binds grass for the grasshouse at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Jackie Bullard
Lauren Toho-Murrow Haupt
Jackie Bullard works on the grasshouse at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
The Grasshouse Build Team pauses for a group photo at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Kerry Lemon, Rachel Galan, Kay O'Neal (Caddo Councilwoman and Grasshouse Project Lead) and Maggie Leysath inside the grasshouse at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Rebuilding Trust by Leaving Money on the Table
Jackie:
Rachel, Lauren, Maggie and I have talked about using Traditional Ecological Knowledge to guide land restoration at Caddo Mounds SHS. Rachel got funding to hire me to do place-based research that will inform what we’re calling a “braided land conservation plan.” If you’ve read Robin Wall Kimmerer’s Braiding Sweetgrass, you’ll be familiar with the idea of braiding Traditional Ecological Knowledge and western science together as a way to rethink how we relate with the land. In our case, the third strand in the braid is art.
A while back, the Texas Forest Service prepared a longleaf pine restoration plan for Caddo Mounds SHS. While Rachel and I were discussing our braided land conservation plan, Texas Forest Service found a nonprofit that wanted to give Caddo Mounds $40,000 for longleaf pine restoration. As we sat around a conference table, a woman pitched the proposal. She was a land conservationist. She was educated. She was very passionate about what she does. And she had corporate funds that needed to be donated by year's-end.
Rachel knew that the Texas Forest Service plan required removing all the vegetation from about 20 acres, and spraying the bare ground with glyphosate. It was a 10-year commitment. She told the woman about the place-based research I would be doing, and our plans to incorporate Indigenous knowledge into land restoration. Rachel expressed appreciation for the offer, but asked if we could delay the project for a year so that we could braid western science and Indigenous approaches together.
That’s when it turned ugly. The woman insisted that the money had to be obligated. She ratcheted up the pressure. She fumed at us, because obviously we didn’t care about the land, we were anti-conservation, and we were ignorant.
I thought to myself, the land is living. The soil is living. The project doesn’t need to happen in a year. That’s not how nature works. You need to do the regenerative work in a way that honors your ancestors, that honors the plants, the medicine, and the food that’s there. Why would you poison the land if your goal is restoration? Rachel held the line. Caddo Mounds turned down $40,000 because they were committed to moving forward in deep partnership.
A basket of food foraged on the 400 acres of Caddo Mounds SHS during a food foraging program. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Caddo Mounds SHS conducts a prescribed burn as part of their prairie restoration efforts. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
An aerial photo of the aftermath of the EF-3 tornado on April 13, 2019, at Caddo Mounds SHS. The sticky dots attached to the photo were placed on the photo by survivors indicating where they were when the tornado hit. Photo Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Restoring Relationships through the Basketry Revival Project
Jackie:
I weave baskets, and I’ve tried to learn how to use river cane to weave traditional Caddo baskets by reading books and feeling the fibers. It didn’t work. I needed help.
Rachel and Chase Kahwinhut Earles, a Caddo potter and artist, have worked together on various art projects over the years. Rachel got funding for a basketry revival project that Chase was eager to do. Chase asked me to help reclaim ancestral knowledge about harvesting, processing, and using river cane to weave traditional Caddo baskets.
I was thrilled, but also daunted. Without Elders who possessed this traditional knowledge to guide us, we had to recreate this skill from scratch. My father taught me about plants, and lots of survival skills too. I know a lot about river cane, but I didn’t know how to peel it properly. Eventually, we figured it out. For me, mastering this technique unlocked a deeper connection to my heritage and my ancestors.
Jackie Bullard’s basketry class participants proudly display the baskets they wove with pine needles at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photo by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Indigenous participants in the Basketry Revival Project at Caddo Mounds SHS stand in front of a patch of rivercane. Photo by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Historically, the Caddo Nation and my family have had a complicated relationship. This happened because, as Lauren has mentioned, the Caddo experienced multiple removals that forced us from East Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas to Oklahoma. But many Caddo, including my family, were still spread out across traditional Caddo homelands. Trauma happens when people are displaced—and that trauma plays out within people, but it also disrupts family relationships.
Through the basketry revival project, I connected deeply with the land, helped revitalize traditional knowledge and skills, and restored relationships with other Caddo. Through this process, I realized that if I don’t change, there won’t be change in my world. I want better for my children. I want better for my people. I want better for all people. For me, this partnership represents a healing journey.
Engage in Deep Listening
Lauren:
Jackie, in our conversations, you’ve demonstrated compassion for the woman who was trying to give Caddo Mounds money. You thought she succumbed to the danger of a single story. She could only envision one way to get things done. But the truth is, she wasn’t in that room to listen.
Jackie:
And there was another person in the room, a Texas Forest Service employee. He’s the guy who sprays the herbicide. At the end of the conversation, he said, “I’m here for any knowledge you can share, and any way I can help. If y’all know another way to do this, I’m willing to learn.” He was almost apologetic that he didn’t have more to offer.
Maggie:
You know, the Texas Forest Service employee probably walked into the room thinking, “I’m the guy with the resources. I’m here to help you.” I’ve thought that way before; recently, in fact. I’m new to Caddo Mounds SHS. I’ve worked in K-12 education for most of my career. I’m pretty large and in charge, right? I love teaching, and I love art. I’m also a potter. People associate me with my pottery, and in some ways, my identity is tied up with being a potter.
Jackie Bullard and Rachel Galan with food foraging program attendees at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photo by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Caddo women/girls in traditional regalia at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photo by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Because it took years to rebuild after the tornado, we just opened our new visitor center. We got money from the state to get everything up and running. So, I was thinking, I’m going to set up an art studio. I’m going to have a kiln. I’m going to teach people to make pots. What could possibly be wrong with a fully decked out art studio?
But I skipped a step. When I shared my plans with Chase, he said, “I don’t use a kiln for my pottery.” I knew that. Then he said, “If you teach people to make pots, they might think they’re making Caddo pots. You can tell them they’re not, but they probably won’t listen. I don’t think you should teach pottery at Caddo Mounds.”
I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty deflated after that interaction. When we ask questions, the next step is to listen. And sometimes deep listening is all about the follow through. You have to be prepared to hear the answer, and then act accordingly, especially when you’re the entity that holds decision-making power. And you know, Rachel told me that a year ago, Chase probably wouldn’t have responded that way. But as Chase has done his own research, and as he’s grown as a person and as a knowledge holder, he's realized that it’s a problem for state employees to teach pottery onsite.
At this year’s Caddo Culture Day, Chase’s daughter taught people how to make pinch pots. She did a phenomenal job! Much better than I could have done. It was good for her. It was good for the people who participated. It was good for the site. And it strengthened our understanding of how to move forward in deep partnership.
Lisa: Reading these stories, you might think that our deep partnership advice is to get hit by a tornado, turn away grant money, and forego your passion at work. Not true! We’ve observed that Caddo Mounds staff build deep partnerships by decentering themselves and practicing cultural humility. Lauren summed this up when she said, “There needs to be reciprocity, where we acknowledge the world as an extension of our kin. We are a family. We depend on each human and beyond human entity that coexists with us. That awareness grounds us and instills a sense of loving responsibility. And without responsibility, I don’t think you can understand respect.”
Caddo drummers keep the beat during a Caddo Dance at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photo by Larry Hodge.
Caddo women dance in front of the grasshouse at Caddo Mounds SHS. Photo by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
Call to Reflection, Call to Action
Reflecting on the work that’s being done at Caddo Mounds SHS, especially efforts to braid western and Indigenous knowledge, Lauren commented, “You know, we don’t need somebody to advocate on our behalf. We need to self-represent. We’ve been disenfranchised for centuries, and we’re not going to accept that going forward. But this project is a prime example of doing it right. I work throughout the South, from Arizona to Arkansas, and this is a rare project that you don’t see a lot of people doing.”
The grasshouse at Caddo Mounds State Historic Site with sunflowers in foreground. Photos by Friends of Caddo Mounds Inc.
If this discussion has piqued your interest, dig deeper through these action steps:
- This is a story rich article. Reflect critically on these stories, record your thoughts in a journal, and talk with your co-workers about the questions the stories raise.
- Reflect critically on your understanding of responsibility and respect. What would it look like to enlarge your sense of responsibility and deepen your respect with your current or prospective partners?
- Ask yourself, what partnership stories could your site tell? And what would have to happen for those stories to reflect deep partnerships? Will you need to deepen your cultural understanding? Realign power dynamics? Consider colonization, trauma, and historical context? Reflect on your own positionality and privilege?
- Ask yourself, what knowledge systems or ways of being could be braided together at your site? And, who else might be interested in this braiding work?
Finally, check out these recommended resources:
- The Climate Science Alliance helps “safeguard natural and human communities in the face of a changing climate.” CSA’s featured projects include an initiative on Advancing Tribal Stewardship of All Ancestral Lands, and a resource hub, Building Authentic Collaborations with Tribal Communities, with actions you can take before you reach out to Indigenous partners.
- From New South Wales, Australia, Indigenous leaders summarize lessons learned from the Bundian Way Project in a blog post that discusses six ways that businesses, government agencies, and nonprofits can build stronger relationships with Indigenous partners.
- Explore a collaboration between the Huna Tlingit and Glacier Bay National Park that led to building Xunaa Shuká Hít, the first permanent clan house in Glacier Bay in 250 years. Historic events, and the process of building a deep partnership, are depicted on a healing totem that honors efforts to overcome past hurts and heal.
- Finally, we’re reposting some resources from our January/February 2024 Legacy article—they’re that good! Check out the Nature Conservancy’s Indian Country 101 Training and the Texas Historical Commission’s Crisis & Trauma Response Toolkit for Cultural Workers.