HOOPA -- After being born and raised in Hoopa, Merv George Sr. lived and worked in Eureka for 30 years but never really considered it home. ”I thought I was rusting,” George said. “I'd get off work and I would come out here and spend the night, just to see the sun come up in the morning before going back to work.” George's being drawn to the scenic 12-mile by 12-mile Hoopa Valley reservation is nothing out of the ordinary, as many Hoopa residents have moved elsewhere only to be drawn back to the land that has been home to their ancestors for thousands of years. Many residents said a strong tribal council has the reservation moving in the right direction. Though many worry about the tribe's culture and language disappearing with the tribe's elders, a renewed interest among the Hupa youth is steadily easing their fears. (Note that Hoopa is the name of the tribe and the valley, and Hupa is the name of the people and the language.) Driving east from Willow Creek on Highway 96, views of steep forested hillsides and a snaking Trinity River soon give way to an expansive valley, tucked between towering mountain ranges and, often, draped in sunshine. The valley's scenic beauty and warm weather certainly bring some residents back, but George said it's really something deeper than that. ”They say we came into being here eons ago,” George said, adding that a University of California anthropologist once dug into one of the tribal village's fire pits and carbon dated ashes at more than 10,000 years old. “The Hupa people have always been here. (The government) didn't put us here, we were here and they put the reservation around us.” Hoopa Tribal Vice Chairman A. Billy Colegrove left the reservation after high school to attend College of the Redwoods but quickly returned when a job came open in the wildlife department. He said coming back was never a question and agreed with George that history had something to do with it. ”A lot of tribes, historically, were moved and placed in other areas that weren't their home land,” he said. “It is a real source of pride for the people here that our ancestors and villages have been here for time immemorial.” Colegrove was elected to the Hoopa Tribal Council, the body that governs the reservation and its more than 2,500 residents, in 2000. He, like many of the councilmembers, said he ran for office simply because he wanted Hoopa to realize its potential. Councilmember Margaret Mattz Dickson, who has resided on the council since 1997, said she is pleased with the changes she has seen while in office. The tribe has worked diligently to bring industries into Hoopa that provide jobs and revenue without compromising the tribe's culture. She pointed to bringing the local timber industry under tribal control and the newly built modular homes plant as huge steps in the right direction. Colegrove said the council adopted a comprehensive forest management plan in 1994 that sought to create a profitable timber industry without harming the reservation's culture or natural beauty. After numerous public meetings, votes and workshops, the plan set aside one third of the valley's forests as no-cut zones, which were carefully outlined to include Tan Oak mushroom harvesting sites that have been passed down through families for generations and even protects tan oak trees known for producing large acorns. The rest of the forests were to be harvested in a thin and release manner, meaning they are never clear cut but instead are carefully logged to ensure sustainability. ”Elsewhere money drives the timber industry and here it's not like that,” Colegrove said. “It's all about preserving our heritage.” Colegrove said this manner of decision making, where every public comment is heard and considered, is commonplace for the council. ”That's the process the council likes to take in planning,” he said. “It goes out and talks to the people and finds out what they want and what their concerns are before acting.” He pointed to Hoopa Modular as another example of how public input was incorporated into the council's plans. After plans were adopted to build a modular home plant in Hoopa, which the council felt was a good fit because it had the potential to provide jobs and was a craft-based industry rather than one of extraction, the council sought public input on how to better the plans. Somebody suggested that they name the home models after local trees, ranging from the dogwood for the smallest home to the sequoia for the biggest. The suggestion was incorporated and seen as a way to bring a cultural touch into the business, Colegrove said. The tribe's industries, which include a small casino, a gas station, the Hoopa People newspaper and more, in addition to the timber and modular home businesses, all create revenue that is used by the council for local projects and distributed to tribal members. Jasper Hostler, who was born and raised in Hoopa before spending four decades working in other states and touring in Europe, Korea and Vietnam with the marines, said he is encouraged by the change he has seen in Hoopa since he was born there 89 years ago, but worries about the youth. He said he worries about their future prospects and their ability to carry on the language and culture that has been preserved for so long. Hostler's worry is not uncommon, as many said they fear the Hupa language may disappear with the tribe's elders, many of whom are the only one's left who are fluent. Dickson said her mother and grandmother spoke the language fluently but never passed it along to her. She said she doesn't know why they didn't teach her the language, but said it might be because they faced so much discrimination for speaking it and didn't want her to go through the same. An encouraging sign to some is that many of the Hupa youth seem to be embracing their heritage and actively studying the language and the culture. Hoopa Valley High School now offers both Hupa and Yurok language courses, which are offered in the foreign languages department along with Spanish. Kayla Carpenter, a senior at the high school who, along with two of her classmates, will be attending Stanford University in the fall, said she is encouraged by a strong group of her peers that are pursuing the language and culture. ”Culture has always been there for me in my family but I've taken it on myself to pursue it further,” she said. “It's important to know who you are and where you're from to know where you're going.” George, who is the tribe's ceremonial dance leader, said the White Deer Skin Dance and the Jump Dance, extremely culturally important dances held every other year, still garner wide spread participation. George said both dances last 10 days, with the White Deer Skin Dance bringing spirits back to look over and dance with the tribe and the Jump Dance driving bad things away. ”It's a good thing we still do (the dances), it keeps us in balance,” he said. “It won't get lost, somebody will always do this. These people here are very resilient.” If history is any indication, George is right. The culture, religion and language have already survived schools and church missionaries that long aimed to wash them out of tribal members. George remembers his grade school classes being marched over to the Presbyterian church to hear sermons during school and church groups setting up loud speakers chastising tribal members for participating in the ceremonial dances. Some residents said these are simply details in a long cycle of abuse that goes largely unrecognized in modern society. Some pointed to a Times-Standard timeline commemorating Eureka's 150th birthday that included a Wiyot massacre but omitted countless others as a symbol that, even today, centuries of atrocities committed on American Indians still draw little attention. One resident said the local media still has a tendency to vilify the Hupa people. ”It seems like when there's good news, it doesn't really get covered and when it's bad news, it's on the front page,” she said. Many feel as Hostler said, “we live in the world and you can't turn things back,” and simply prefer to look at the present and the future, a future that seems to rest squarely on the shoulders of the youth. Carpenter said her generation is ready for the challenge but carefully added that now is a critical time. ”We're still in a crucial stage because the elders are the only ones that are fluent (in the language),” she said. “Sometimes I'm afraid to go to college because is that time better spent staying and studying with an elder?” If the past is any indication, Carpenter will return to Hoopa, drawn by the valley's warm breezes, cool river and 10,000-year history, the question that worries her is will there be fluent elders waiting to welcome her back? |
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