(from left: Joanne Shenandoah, Prof. Huston Smith, Rev. Bill Lesher, Rev. Heng Sure)
Meeting Joanne Shenandoah
In Memoriam (1957 – 2021)
Rev. Heng Sure
November 29, 2001
Standing next to Prof. Huston Smith in line at San Francisco International Airport, both of us flying to Capetown, South Africa, for the Parliament of World Religions, I heard some news that thrilled me: Prof. Smith had invited representatives from North America’s Native spiritual traditions to attend the Parliament. He said “We Northern Europeans are such head-heavy people! We tend to get our theology stuck above the neck. The Native American spirituality is grounded in Nature and reminds us not to miss the divinity in the world around us. We have so much to learn.”
Waiting to check in we agreed that was much was promised but much at stake hanging on the gathering. It was December, 1999, the hysteria of Y2K was at its apex, major disruptions of travel and communications were predicted. A terrorist bomb had just exploded in a Capetown ocean side restaurant, some thought it prudent to stay home, others said conflict was precisely the reason to attend a parliament of religions. It would be the first time South Africa had hosted all the world’s religions in such an extraordinary gathering; it would be the first time Native American spirituality, and many indigenous traditions had been acknowledged and invited to join the world’s religions. When the news reached Cape Town that fifty Native Americans, North America’s First People, were coming, the Parliament of World Religions’ African staff, savvy and hard to impress, were thrilled to meet real Indians, seen before only through the lens of Hollywood.
After the long flight we gathered with seven thousand souls from forty religions, traditions and spiritual paths in the Cape Technikon University auditorium. To open the first evening plenary program, the keynote meeting of the whole, the MC invited Pueblo Elder Herman Agoyo to sing a Native benediction. Herman sang with his wife and daughter, then said to the audience, “Representing Native Peoples of North America, I give you our most distinguished musical artist, Joanne Shenandoah.”
She took the stage with light steps in tan buckskins and stood tall in the spotlight, her black guitar top reflecting the light to the expectant eyes below. “We are now reminded to be aware of our place upon this earth and to fulfill our obligations to ourselves, our families, nations, the natural world and the creator. The words say, ‘we are to awaken, stand up, be counted’ for you are being recognized in the spirit world,” said Native American musician and visionary Joanne Shenandoah.
She spoke first in English then sang in Oneida Iroquois to a deepening stillness in the hall. Her expression radiated awareness of the significance of standing as a Native American woman on center stage of the world’s religions. Solemn with responsibility, light with inspiration, Joanne’s voice was musical and gentle, but powerful with a quality of graceful strength that I had not heard before. Letting my ears settle I heard a song that was rooted in the North Woods: I could hear snow falling, feather white on green boughs, and pine smoke. Her voice was both dignified and primal, the winter coat of both the deer and the wolf. I looked up and saw that the power of the moment had brought tears to Joanne’s eyes; one tear tracked down her cheek and glinted in the spotlight. Her voice caught, she smiled, closed her eyes and sang through the emotion.
Seeing the world’s religions honor the wisdom of ancient peoples, I felt an unexpected joy and heart-filling pride that was scarcely mine to own. I wanted, on impulse, to tap the arm of the stranger next to me in the darkened arena, to say, “See what America has, that’s my country, too; I’m from the same place she’s from.”
During the five days in Capetown my heart was stretched and my assumptions were challenged by encounters with hundreds of religious and cultural spokespeople, including Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama, but when I returned home to Berkeley, the first thing I did was find Joanne’s email address and introduce myself. Then I called Huston Smith and thanked him for expanding my awareness of the richness of Native traditions. I shared my epiphany from Cape Technikon. I listened to her voice once again and I understood more of her vision that had inspired me in Capetown.
Joanne Shenandoah’s mission as a composer, according to seers in her tribe, is to bring the world view of the Iroquois Confederacy back to life again. Thinking back to the experience at the Parliament of Religions I sensed that I was not the only one to be surprised and carried by the power of her music and its message; she carried the gathered religions to a place of unity not only among humanity’s religious institutions, she brought us to an expansive religious heart that included the rivers, the forest, the eagle, and perhaps most importantly for a warring humanity, the woman. At the Parliament of World Religions, Native American earth-based spirituality met the theologies of Europe and the meditative traditions of the East on equal ground, then took us a step up to higher ground, a sacred space that celebrates the earth and the feminine. This is a re-definition of the role of religion, rooted deeply in the soil of North America. When Joanne sings you hear the female human, the strong Yin, balanced in a healing, nurturing relationship between earth and sky.
At the invitation of Hilary Clinton and Tipper Gore, Joanne wrote a song to honor women. She presented the song at a gathering of Native chiefs in the White House in 1996:
“In peace and war she will embrace,
See strength and wisdom in her face.
She’ll offer her hand though tired and worn,
And nurture the land for those unborn…”
(Back row: Leah Shenandoah, Joanne, Rev. Heng Sure, Diane Shenandoah. Front row: Christine and Amanda Nguyen.)
The Iroquois’ governing structure was matriarchal. Joanne’s album “Matriarch” contains musical gifts for the women in her family. She wrote a medicine song for each of her female relatives, a gift from Nature sounding through her, a healing song to accompany the life-road of each female kin: daughter, mother, grandmother, sisters and nieces. The melodies come through Joanne from the elements, a gift of spirit from the air, fire, water and earth. Several of the tunes are “stomp dances,” to be danced by women in a circle, turning around the fire in the Longhouse. Political decisions in the Oneida tribe traditionally were carried forward by Clan Mothers who determined when and where wars would be fought, when they would cease, and who would fight. Her work, “Eagle Cries,” opens with a tribute to her mother, Maisie Shenandoah, who is current clan mother of the Wolf Clan and includes the voices of her daughter Leah, and her sister Diane.
“Her songs will soothe your soul to sleep,
And the stories she’ll tell you’ll always keep.
She’ll quench your thirst, dry tears from your eyes,
Give food for your spirit, and bring us new life.
She'll heal you inside, her prayers carry high,
We give thanks to the women, friend, mother, lover and guide.”
Iroquois value music that sings from “a good mind,” a mind that is clear, content, and beautifully calm, never stretching, or going to edges. Joanne’s voice expresses the message as much as the words, balanced and serene, seeking the Middle, and unbroken. She sings in Iroquois language of the creation of the Iroquois Confederacy, a story sacred to the tribe.
Called “Peacemaker’s Journey,” it tells the names of men and women who brought an end to hostility. The names include Skennenrahowi, the Peacemaker of legend, his first disciple Hiawatha, and Jikonsahseh, the “Mother of Nations,” a woman who like the clan mothers in the current Iroquois community, made decisions for the tribe and helped create the League of the Iroquois, the first United Nations on Western soil. Their written Constitution gave birth to a vision whose principles informed Thomas Jefferson as he organized the Constitution of the United States. The dreamers predict that Joanne’s music and the ancient way of life her songs celebrate will tell the world of the wisdom of the Haudanoshone, “The People of the Longhouse.” The Longhouse and its peoples, Joanne’s ancestors, sheltered a peaceful confederacy of six tribes that had formerly been blood enemies. Inside the Longhouse many fires could be built, many tribes could live together in peace. They buried their weapons beneath a tall pine, a Tree of Peace, watched over by an eagle.
Joanne presents a spirituality that embodies a humanity in balance between earth and sky. This vision strives for peaceful balance, coexistence and a fundamental harmony with the natural world and with the feminine. This is femininity in its aspect of sacred wisdom: Sophia, Prajna-paramita, the perfection of insight. Joanne’s voice is a instrument that teaches as it sings; the voice of the Dao at its receptive, nurturing, female source, a power that like the earth, does not cut but sees, supports, soothes, and sings.
