In 2018, the Intertribal Centennial Conversations Group, a grassroots advisory body that works to place Native voices at the forefront of education, stewardship, and economic opportunities in Grand Canyon National Park, posed a question: How could the region’s tribal communities establish direct, lucrative partnerships with Grand Canyon National Park?
A vendor selling handmade jewelry and instruments greets customers at Grand Canyon National Park. JAMIE ARVISO
An economic powerhouse in the region, the park welcomed 4.5 million visitors and funneled $945 million into gateway economies in 2021 alone.
To answer and generate discussion around this question, the idea for an intertribal economic summit was born. And from August 16-19, 2022, with support from the Grand Canyon Trust, Grand Canyon National Park, the Grand Canyon Conservancy, and others, the inaugural Emergence Intertribal Economic Summit took place on the south rim of Grand Canyon National Park.
The four-day mix of panels, brainstorming sessions, and field tours brought together approximately 75 Native entrepreneurs, artists, community leaders, governmental support staff, and National Park Service employees for facilitated discussions around building a more inclusive and equitable economy.
Yet building a more inclusive and equitable economy, especially one that centers, advances, and respects Native cultural values, traditions, customs, and principles is no easy task, for it means not only rectifying historical inequities but also reckoning cross-culturally with concepts of sustainability, use, and commerce that are often quite different from current economic paradigms.
The author facilitates a discussion on the need for a regional Native economic tourism alliance at the Emergence economic summit. JAMIE ARVISO
In the fall of 1998, when I was 13, my tupko and I accompanied my father and uncle on our first-ever hunting trip. Culturally this outing marked a particular rite of passage for my younger brother and for me, yet personally it also served to demonstrate a key facet of Hopi culture and society that, until then, I was not fully aware of. While we were fortunate enough to make a kill on the second day of our outing, the most informative part of this venture happened after. In dressing our kill, my uncle, who had made the shot, divided the game and shared it with the next two individuals to arrive: my father and me. In accordance with Hopi custom, to my father was given the left foreleg and right hind leg, and the opposite pair were given to me.
Upon returning home, additional parts of the game were further divided up and shared with particular members of the family, clan, and ultimately with the religious authority of the village who, in turn, took of this food, and prepared an offering as a gift to be given back to the Earth and the creatures therein. Through this act, in Hopi belief, the Earth would be made more abundant. At each point in this process my uncle ensured that my tupko and I understood exactly why we gave this naakwayi as a gift of sustenance to various individuals within the village.
Director of the National Park Service Charles “Chuck” Sams III traveled from Washington D.C. to offer opening remarks at Emergence. Sams (Cayuse and Walla Walla, of the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation) is the first Native American to lead the National Park Service. JAMIE ARVISO
“Yan itam it naakwayit akw naanami wiwyungwa — Through this naakwayi we are connected,” he said, “this is our Hopi economy.”
Such was my introduction to the Hopi concept of economy and the idea that whatever has been given should be given away again, so that it is sowanìlti — used up or consumed.
As I grew older, I came to understand what he meant by the phrase “used up,” for in any kind of gift exchange, the transaction itself consumes the object. While it is true that something often comes back to you when a gift is given, if this return were made an explicit condition of the exchange, it would not be a gift, but rather a sale or barter.
Jessica Stago (far right) moderates a panel featuring speakers Nicole Roque of Hueco Tanks State Park (left), Mayor of Tusayan Clarinda Vail (center), and Cameron community member Mae Franklin (right) at Emergence exploring trends in gateway communities and cultural tourism. JAMIE ARVISO
In the Hopi language there are two distinct terms that relate to each of these very different types of exchange: Naakwayi is a gift exchanged, usually in the form of food, presented to another to acknowledge a special relationship, and huuyani is good(s) for sale.
The key difference between the two is that naakwayi, as a gift, binds through emotion, because it is given as an act of social faith with no calculated value, while huuyani, as a commodity for sale, has a value that is predicated on a calculated price and leaves no necessary connection.
Emergence participants take in an afternoon session amid rain showers on the south rim of the Grand Canyon. JAMIE ARVISO
Because of these cultural and linguistic distinctions, I always imagined Hopi as a tribe with a boundary drawn around it, and within this circle our tribal goods circulated as gifts, with reciprocity, while outside of this circle, tribal goods moved through purchase and sale, with value reckoned comparatively, and without reciprocity.
Yet in reviewing the feedback from one of the sessions at the Emergence Intertribal Economic Summit, which posed the question, “How can concessionaires [private companies that hold contracts to sell goods in the park] support Native representation in arts and vending?” it was clear that I was not the only one who recognized the tension that seemed to result from these different ways of determining value. When it came to the value of Native arts and crafts, one participant pointed out “there is an unequal power dynamic which allows concessionaires to economically benefit from the commodification of Native culture.”
Diné chef Carlos Deal and his catering team at AlterNativEats served delicious fresh meals to Emergence participants. JAMIE ARVISO
The sentiments expressed during this session resonated with me. Throughout much of my childhood, my father, like a large portion of the Hopi public, relied primarily on the selling of Hopi arts and crafts (particularly Katsina dolls) for his livelihood and often expressed his discomfort at having to sell his art — things that were given as gifts (na’mangwu) within Hopi culture but were seen as commodities within the external market system. Over the years his discomfort with this practice grew until he stopped creating art altogether, telling me on numerous occasions, “Never do what you love for money, and never do something you’re good at for free.” What he truly meant by this I can only guess, yet I assume that doing what he loved — creating cultural pieces of art largely in response to the demands of the market — eventually resulted in the work having no meaning for him, both culturally and personally.
Amber Benally takes notes while facilitating one of the dozens of breakout discussions at Emergence that allowed Native artists and entrepreneurs to share their ideas and visions for a more inclusive Grand Canyon economy. JAMIE ARVISO
Sadly, this is the reality many Native artists find themselves in. As Native people, we often talk about our cultural values and what they mean to our tribal identities, and to our communities as a whole, yet seldom are our cultural sensibilities and values able to be woven back into the choices we make economically. As one participant at Emergence put it, “We are a community that deals with strangers; we are artists living in a market economy and so we have to learn to live and walk in two worlds.”
From this, perhaps the question is not “Can a gift and commodity coexist?” but rather “To what degree may one draw from the other without destroying it?” As another participant said, “a lasting economic alliance must extend beyond tourism and arts to include other types of commerce that each Native community must define for itself. The two most important questions that we each must answer are: ‘What does each community want to share?’ and ‘Where does each community want visitors to be?’"
Roasting marshmallows after dinner at Emergence. JAMIE ARVISO
While definitive answers to the many questions posed have not yet materialized, in my estimation perhaps the greatest benefit of Emergence was in the collective endeavor to articulate the degrees of reciprocity between tribal nations and Grand Canyon National Park, and the earnest attempts to define what equitable partnerships, both economic and otherwise, look like across the region.
In the end, the 2022 Emergence Intertribal Economic Summit demonstrated enormous potential for collaborative, inclusive economic opportunities. It created a continuing forum in which tribes can assert their inherent authority as governments and chart their own courses for economic development, and perhaps end up with sustainable and healthy economies that truly reflect the values and sensibilities that they espouse.
The next summit is scheduled for October 2023 and will seek to expound on these community-generated ideas, translating them into tangible courses of action.
Daryn Akei Melvin works as a Grand Canyon manager for the Grand Canyon Trust with a focus on addressing issues related to the Little Colorado River.
EDITOR'S NOTE: The views expressed by Advocate contributors are solely their own and do not necessarily represent the views of the Grand Canyon Trust.
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