Music starts Music continues Music Ends [rhythmic rattle shaking] [ambient music] [fire crackling] [caribou footsteps in grass] [caribou eating grass] [whooshing sound] [flowing water] [footsteps in snow] [slicing meat] [wings flapping] [fire crackling] [voice of child playing] [rhythmic rattle shaking fades] [ambient music fades] [rhythmic tapping] [mother singing, baby squealing] [fire crackling] [new ambient music fades in] [sound of knife sharpening] [cutting of animal hide] [man's voice] [ambient music fades] [slicing of meat] [new ambient music fades in] [boy and women speaking inaudible] [sounds of people working in kitchen] [sizzling food] [inaudible chatter] [footsteps of caribou] [ambient music continues] [grandmother thanking child] [slow drumbeat] [women singing, drumming] [women singing fades in] [rhythmic drumbeat] [soft sound of footsteps in snow] [soft sound of water in river] [caribou footsteps in grass] [baby coos] [fire crackling] [rattle shaking] [caribou footsteps in grass] [soft footsteps in snow] [women singing fades] [slow drumbeat fades] [heavy drumbeat starts] [woman starts singing] [chorus of women singing] [light wind] [birds chirping] [ambient music] [crickets] - (Narrator) When I was young, I would hear it occasionally the elders of our tribe saying, "Gesdi vskivdvneho udohiyu ayvwiya yigi," which translates to, "Real human beings don't do that."

[wind blowing] They were talking about one's responsibility and how you fit into that, because essentially, there are going to be consequences for everything.

[water running] [light guitar music] When I was about 11 years old, I was sent by my mom actually to get a certain kind of a plant.

"And get this plant, you'll see it, it looks like this and grows here, and grows here."

She said, "Dig that up from the root, we have to fix some medicine for your cousin."

[wind blowing] [birds chirping] So I went and got it, did as I was told.

[men talking in background] And when I came back and gave it to her, I was sitting around, I felt pretty proud of myself, and my father came and he said to me, "Did you leave something there?

It may be tobacco, it may be anything, but left something there?

Did you pray even?"

[men cheering, laughing] [men talking] He said, "They used to say a long time ago that anytime that you go for help, make sure that person or that thing understands that you are grateful for it.

[men talking] That way, they will always help you.

[hammering] But you have to acknowledge that this is not something here just for your benefit, that it's part of something else."

- (Boy) After this, will we go?

- (Father) Mmhmm - (Boy) Thanks.

[dog collar jingling] [light guitar music continues] Dig!

- (Narrator) We didn't create that cane.

We didn't create that buckbrush or honeysuckle, or whatever, we didn't create that.

It was already made.

- (Father) What do you think's under there?

- (Boy 1) Nothing.

- (Boy 2) There's gonna be a worm.

- (Father) A worm?

- (Boy 2) And a snake.

Look he's digging!

[dog panting] - (Narrator) We have no word for art in our language.

We have no word for it.

So, 'nvneha', you are making it into, or making it into a thing.

Not making a thing but making it into that.

It's just little things like that in the language that make you understand that the way that we look at the world is different.

[boy cheering] - (Father) Hey!

Quit eating my eyes!

[boy "ew" sound] Here you hold it, thank you.

Ahhh!

[voices, movement in background] - (Narrator) Or in that word then, it also carries with it something else doesn't it?

It also carries with it and establishes that you are not the creator of that.

You can't just make things.

[voices in background] [light guitar music continues] It was always here.

It puts you in your place.

[birds chirping] [bright guitar music] [tractor driving] This world doesn't belong to us.

[men rustling in corn field] [speaking] Everything was here before we were.

Even in our stories, we say that.

An elder here told me, "We know that we were the last ones here because we don't even have names.

All the names had run out."

[tractor fades] [cicadas] [soft guitar music continues] And if we were to give ownership to anything, it would be to those things that have lived here before us.

[birds chirping] How we came to understandings about how we live in this environment is tied to the ground, isn't it?

And our place with it.

[bird chirping] We're here as guests, and we're here to be as careful and as responsible as we can be.

To be alive, to be able to live here, to be able to walk in these mountains, to live by these streams, to be able to use these things is a gift [boy exclaims excitedly] Every ceremony that happens is to remind people to be thankful for what we have.

We have to be reminded every cycle of the moon of who we are and what our purpose here is, and to remember to give thanks that we get a chance to be here.

And I believe the whole foundation of we as Cherokee people comes from that understanding of that is how you live.

[soft wind] [guitar music continues] [wind rises] [guitar music continues] [waterfall] [guitar music continues] [guitar music begins to fade] [soft guitar music] ██ [rising sound of rattle] [intermittent drumming] [bird calls] [drumming increases speed] [all sound fades out] [scuffling feet, light wind, animals in distance] [Rocks landing on ground] [bird chirping] [rhythmic drumming starts] [feet walking on dirt, light wind] [whistle joins drumming music] [cactus rolling in dirt] [birds in distance] [footsteps in dirt] [music continues] [music stops] [fan blowing on crackling fire] [food sizzling in pot] [ladle scraping pot] [boys running in dirt] [bird chirping] [light wind] [bird chirping] [indistinct percussion] [cabasa shaking intermittently] [birds chirping] [wind blowing] [fire crackling] [food simmering] [stoking fire] [ladle scraping pot] [utensils scraping plates] [gentle packing of rope bag] [birds chirping] [goats bleating] [girl and goats running in dirt] [goat bleating] [goat bleating] [flute music starts] [music ends] [goat bleating] [wind blowing] [indistinct chatter] [wind blowing] [prickly cactus sounds] [birds in distance] [gentle wind] [fruit hits ground] [rooster crows] [prickly cactus sounds] [whimsical flute music starts] [flute playing] [wind blowing] [end of music] [wind blowing] [sound of waves] [wind blowing] [wind in trees] [gentle sound of drums] [woman singing] [sound of drums] [sound of rattle] [cello playing] [end of music] Aho.

Alright.

Welcome Yo-Yo Ma!

[applause] Yo-Yo Ma asked, "What would be meaningful to Wabanaki people?

How do we create something that will cause transformation?"

I said, "Play your music at sunrise because that's part of our culture."

[gentle wind blowing] I had a really interesting idea that I would teach Yo-Yo a song, a pow wow song.

He's gonna accompany me, so we're gonna see how this is gonna go.

[laughter] So you are ready to give it a try?

Alright, here we go!

[drumming] [singing] [cello playing] [end of music] [cheering] [applause] The first powwow cello.

[applause fades] Our ancestors have 12,000 years of welcoming the day.

The meaning for me, personally, in welcoming the sun is deep.

I truly am thankful for every day that I get.

That I get to be a dad to my kids and I get to raise them in a world where I hope, that when I'm done here in this place, I've left it better for them.

And that's what it's all about.

[gentle wind] [gentle wind] [bird chirping] [cello playing] [bird chirping] [music continues under talking] Being able to be around our tribal elders, being able to learn songs, being able to just be present, is beautiful.

We are Wabanaki and we're still here.

Our youth can see this, people that they know taking space, holding space, unapologetically.

Kci-woliwon.

I feel very committed to embracing my obligation as a Pueblo woman, to care for this earth, and to care for the people on it.

When I think about what my ancestors went through fighting famine and drought, trying to live through colonization, holding on to the land, because that's what gives us life.

We can't ever give up.

[cello music continues] [end of cello] [bird chirping] I think meaning is so elusive, and yet everybody who spoke today was filled with meaning.

The fact that you can think of seven generations back and seven generations forward is a big lesson for us.

Who can think that way?

You can.

The way you take care of the land, and the way you take care of one another, we can learn from that.

And so your gift to us we now have to carry forward and do.

[gentle wind] [sound of rattle] [woman singing] [singing continues under talking] We're all here to not just listen to people but what follows is perhaps the most powerful thing.

We have to take those things into consideration seriously.

If we just leave here feeling good temporarily, then we've wasted our time.

I see a lot of optimism because I see the generation to follow me.

I see the next generation working their damnedest.

We have a lot of work to do, they have a lot of work to do.

Kci-woliwon.

[singing continues] [wind sound] [singing continues] [footsteps in grass] [bird chirping] [jacket zipper] [shovel digging in dirt] [gentle music begins] [birds chirping] (Denise) When he started, some of the walls look like, "Oh gosh, it's all rotten under there."

[soft working sounds] (Jeremy) I was doing a lot of internet research to see if it's even possible or if it's even worth it.

How do you save a house that's been deteriorating for so long?

His eyes would be swollen because he would be working a floor and he'd be on the basement, and the materials would come down into his face.

[sound of house board falling] But I'd just pray and like, "Just protect them today."

You know?

So they're okay!

[cicadas] (Denise) She would be very proud if she could see not letting the house go down.

I feel her presence here.

I know that she has made things happen however way that she could, because that's what type of mother that she always was.

[string instruments, gentle music continues] (Jeremy) Ma's house is sometimes known as the red house.

This is the house that I grew up in with my family.

It's a place for visitors, a place for meals and sharing.

(Kelly) Our grandmother, who everyone called Ma, she lived here and she made this how she liked it.

(Jeremy) It just became really known as "Ma's house."

(Kelly) Her name's Loretta Silva, Princess Silva Arrow.

She was the princess that we loved.

Just always remember her being very glamorous, loving, and wanting just to always care for us.

We miss her a lot.

[birds chirping] (Jeremy) So Ma's house was built in the 1960s, and the first people who lived here were Ma, my grandfather, along with their six children.

(Denise) When I got married, my husband came here to live.

And then as I had children, Kelly, Jeremy, and my other sister and her husband, one of my nephews and their children.

This whole space here, there were so many kids in the family.

I can remember there'd be a pullout couch here.

But we were always happy... (Kelly) Yeah, there were always different aunts, uncles, cousins.

(Denise) There's a lot!

(Kelly) During powwow time, that's when it almost got to be over capacity at Ma's house.

[fire crackling, rhythmic drums] [gentle string music begins to fade] (Jeremy) Once we completed our newer house down the road and we had to move, [bird chirping] and so for the past five years, no one has spent time at Ma's house.

[bird chirping] [somber music fades in] (Denise) It was very sad to see what a once vibrant place just dying off.

(Denise) One day, Jeremy came up with the idea, what do you think of making Ma's house into a residency?

(Jeremy) You want to step more in the frame?

You can come forward a little bit.

[camera clicks] You know, I can invite other artists and just to keep our culture alive.

(Jeremy) My plan for Ma's house is that it's going to have the entire front of the house dedicated to communal arts events and history lessons and workshops.

[birds cawing] [footsteps in dirt] (Kelly) And the goal is to have a space for Black, Indigenous, and people of color to have an art space.

So it'll kinda be like a guest house.

It'll also be my home permanently.

[sounds of painting] And it's just going to have a lot of different people, I guess, in quotes, living there, all year round to pursue their own art projects.

And so I want to have work on the walls can be experimental or don't have to be for sale.

[hopeful piano music playing] (Jeremy) What we're planning to do is have work mounted that's 2D on this wall.

Just art shows that generate conversation around equality, race, current issues.

[birds chirping] [footsteps] I've just become so proud of being Shinnecockan.

I think if you would just ask someone from Southampton, they might know us for [birds chirping] the Shinnecock Smoke Shop, or the Shinnecock Powwow.

But one thing I really want to change through Ma's house is to actually transform the public perception of Shinnecock, where we're a modern place, where we have history being celebrated.

[hopeful piano music fades] [birds chirping] [door opening and closing] [footsteps] [window rolling down] [soft car driving] (Jeremy) The reality is on the East End, people who grew up here their whole lives are being pushed out.

[car door opening] (Kelly) We're constantly just trying to hold on to what we have, not let outside forces take over our lives.

(Jeremy) The residents of South Hampton kept wanting more land.

They kept pushing us further and further back.

And so Shinnecock today only has around 800 square acres of land.

[soft waves of water, birds in distance] As my grandmother said, "We're still here thanks to this little peninsula surrounded by water," because there was just no more land for us to be pushed back to.

(Denise) Nowadays, we try to say Nation instead of Reservation, because Reservation is such a colonial way of thinking.

It's the land of our ancestors.

We've always lived here.

[waves] [gentle wind] (Jeremy) So many people that come here for the first time think they're lost, they don't think that there's going to be any houses down here.

[Jeremy Laughs] Here we are.

[drilling] [clicking light switch] [gentle ambient music fades in] (Jeremy) There was so much generosity around Ma's house when I first started.

[piano joins ambient music] (Jeremy) People were either sharing the crowdfunding campaign and people would be offering donations from individuals.

(Man) We have a check for you.

(Denise) Oh wow!

(Man) $500.

(Denise) Oh my goodness.

Oh, that's so wonderful.

Different friends have come down.

Different relatives have also come and worked.

(Jeremy) Roger Waters, who was a Pink Floyd band member, donated a beehive.

(Jeremy) Other people have been donating houseplants.

Some people have been donating greens that are edible.

[birds chirping] [gentle piano music continues] Just here late at night sometimes, it kinda feels like you're not really alone, whether that's the creaky floors or just the draft coming through different cracks in the house.

[gentle wind chime] [piano music fades] I like to also think that family members who passed on but spent time at Ma's house are still there in some form, kind of approving things that are going on there.

[bird chirping] Now that I'm taking care of the house itself, I think that the house will take care of me down the line.

[birds chirping] [soft wind] [gentle string music starts] [ambient music fades in] [birds chirping] [chicken clucks] [gentle piano starts] [boys laughing in distance] (Kolea) I grew up here in Hakipu'u.

[chicken clucks] We're on the windward side of O█ahu.

[birds chirping] [kids laughing] [water running from hose] [kids laughing] [kids speaking inaudible] [chicken clucking] [birds chirping] Growing up here was a large part of my identity.

We trace our genealogy back to this, this same place on the same █aina (land) that our Kupuna (ancestors) walked on before us.

[bird chirping] This place for us, it's the beginning, It's the middle.

It's where we will eventually rest in the land here.

[gentle washing sound] (Kolea) The █iwi kupuna (ancestral remains) on that █aina is Inoino and Paku.

Inoino is my fifth great-grandfather.

Paku was his wahine (wife).

█Iwi kupuna, it means the bones, skeletal remains of our ancestors.

[piano music fades] [gentle guitar fades in] (Kolea) But it's not just that.

The spiritual being of that person, their █uhane, which is their spirit, is still in the █iwi, in the bones so when we bury them in the █aina in the soil, their spirit, their mana, is still there.

[gentle music continues] (Summer) I feel like that definitely gives that █aina and that place [soft wind] power.

[wind rises] And I think when we connect to that █aina, we're not just connecting to the █aina.

We're connecting to the ancestors that are in that █aina and the knowledge that they carried and that they've absorbed into it.

The fact that many people nowadays don't really understand why █iwi kupuna is important is that numbing, we're numb to the purpose or sacredness of things anymore.

[gentle wrapping] [birds in background] (Kolea) When you are closely tied to █iwi kupuna or burials and you know them, you know where they are, the understanding of [piano replaces guitar music] our responsibility to them and them to us is very real.

(Girl) Above your hand?

(Kolea) Yep, right above.

[gentle piano music picks up pace] (Malia) Right next door to us is Kualoa.

Kualoa was seen as the seat of our ea, of our sovereignty.

Whatever chief had control of Kualoa had much power.

So it's very interesting in that you have a missionary family that is now controlling Kualoa and acquiring all the lands in Kaava, Kualoa in the lands here in Hakipu'u.

95% of Hakipu'u has become part of Kualoa Ranch's holdings or no longer in the hands of the Native tenants.

So there are just remnant kuleana lands existing here and the Fukumitsu family are one of the few families that still have their kuleana lands.

[piano music fades] [new piano music starts] (Kolea) Kualoa Ranch had purchased property down the road more and we had made them aware that the █iwi kupuna, my ancestors, are buried there and to please be aware and contact us in whatever they're doing.

They did not.

They went and decided to [walking through brush] grade and grub large areas, take down large trees, uproot whatever plants were around.

And the next day we went to make a stand.

[intense rhythmic bass thumping] [sound of car driving] [group praying] [birds chirping] [string instruments join bass] We set our stage to make known the place is sacred, and we took a physical stand.

(Kolea) I'm protecting my kids, I'm protecting my █iwi kupuna and protecting... (Kolea) We sat in the road and made sure that construction wouldn't happen.

(Cop) Let me ask you this; if the ranch or Mr. Morgan can... (Kolea) The police tried to mediate between us, the lineal descendants, and Kualoa Ranch.

(Woman behind phone) I'm sorry.

I know you guys are just doing your job, but this is our kids' safety and the safety of our █iwi kupuna.

[inaudible chattering] (Kolea) And so we were arrested.

It was me and my neighbor Ian Masterson, were arrested for protecting the █iwi kupuna and historic sites.

[inaudible chattering] [rhythmic intense bass music begins again] [inaudible chattering] [birds chirping] (Kolea) After I was arrested and taken away, Kualoa Ranch was business as usual, had their employees down there doing what they were doing [car engine starts] the whole time.

And it was very clear that two people could be moved easily.

(Woman off camera) We love you guys.

(Woman holding phone camera) Bye Dad, love you.

(Kolea) But if you put a kahea (a call) and you have the lahui (community) help, [intense music stops] [horn being blown] it's a lot more strength because it's harder to move a hundred people than two.

[woman starts singing to reggae music] [birds chirping] [indistinct chattering] It was a relief for me and my 'ohana because it helped us in our stand because we weren't alone.

[birds chirping] [soft wind] [indistinct talking] (Kolea) And with all of that support, Kualoa Ranch decided that they couldn't fight the l█hui (community) and what they were standing for, so they decided to hold off for two weeks.

[indistinct chattering] [crickets] [soft wind] (Kolea) Mahalo (thank you) for heeding the kahea (call), we really, really, really malama (cherish) everybody for that.

(Malia) Why is it that Hawaiian burials don't receive the same treatment as burials in the cemetery?

They said, "We don't want our children to inherit this struggle."

And then I could feel the sadness in the land and I realized that they were carrying that hurt, that burden, that the kupuna (ancestors) felt.

And so I told them a lot of times, we pull upon the mana, the power of our ancestors, to guide us.

We walk on the land, we present ourselves with humility and we ask for their wisdom [soft horns blowing] and we feel their presence with us.

[group singing] [soft wind] (Malia) But now, the kupuna need our help.

And they're pulling upon our essence and our mana [gentle guitar music fades in] to help them to transition into po, into eternity, because... they're trapped by their sadness.

And we need to show them that we are there for them, that we will protect their bones.

[soft wind] [indistinct praying] (Kolea) Mahalo for your blessings, mahalo for everything.

(Malia) And so I told Summer and K█lea, have your son chant the genealogy of your family.

[boy chanting] (Malia) And lend your mana, as their mo█opuna, as their descendants to say, "It's okay.

We're going to be okay.

We are going to bring the breath and a life back into this place.

And you don't need to worry anymore."

[horns blowing] [footsteps in grass] [birds chirping] (Kolea) ...last time.

(Kolea) So you'll walk down... (boy) Is this where we cleared up?

(Kolea) Yeah.

On the face, there's the springs coming out.

So you're going to put it right in the face, but a little bit above the water.

(Malia) And so that day when they walked the █aina was really about returning the gifts, giving back to our kupuna in the gifts that they have enriched us with.

[walking through brush] (Kolea) It's dry.

It's usually coming out here.

This is our main spring that gives us water down below.

And so... [shoveling mud in stream] you always got to respect what was given to you.

(Malia) If you cannot protect the land, forget it.

And if you cannot protect the ancestors that we have that connection to, in order to help us to return to ourselves [splashing stream] and know what is right and what is pono (just), if you cannot hold on to that mana and preserve the memory of our kupuna, not just in our minds, but the memory that they give this land so that they can teach us how to return to that place of pono and that place of abundance, then we lose everything.

[soft singing joins gentle guitar music] [bird chirping] (Malia) Many Hawaiians are homeless.

Many Hawaiians have been literally evicted from their ancestral lands.

You see here in Hakipu'u, 95% of the lands are lost.

So that means all those families left the valley or they perish by the epidemics.

To unearth our kupuna in the ground is like the final eviction.

Like, we cannot even have our own ancestors rest peacefully.

[birds chirping] [uplifting music continues] (Malia) I could feel that part of the work that Kolea and Summer does is they they nurture and nourish this land and they take that poison out.

(Malia) If we are to restore that ea and that pono you know, back to Hawaii, it's imperative that Kanaka (Hawaiians) begin to come back to this place and breathe life back into this █aina.

And the way that we can connect to that glorious past, [soft wind] where the chiefs walked proudly and where the kahuna (seers) guided us with wisdom is, we have to preserve their █iwi.

[music fades] [reggae music begins]