It’s almost the end of June. In the Pacific Northwest, golden light as wind rustles in cottonwoods, alders, and poplars constantly. The last weekend in June on the Island, my neighbors take their belongings out onto the lawn and open their garages to bargain seekers looking for treasure.
After the weekend, old furniture remains with hand-lettered FREE signs nearby. In this annual ritual, Nors Hall serves pulled pork sandwiches and the volunteer Fire Department grills hot dogs. The dike roads around the island are an obstacle course with shoppers jumping out of their cars before they stop rolling.
Americans are drowning in consumer goods. Some folks were/are jealous of Osages because of oil money or profits from gaming, and because we did and can buy fine things. I’m thinking about the way that our Osage ways are different, how we hold onto treasures, clothes, broaches, our family’s Osage clothes, blankets. How special it is to see them, to wear them during the Inlonshka, even as we create and share new works of art.
June is our month of Osage ceremonial dances, family, friends, celebration, appreciation and honoring our ways, reflected in photos from the Osage News and posted on social media by talented family photographers. Toddlers in tiny broadcloth skirts and blouses, still-life compositions of feasts. Snippets of video with our new Town Crier, Kyle Robedeaux walking each district in.
I was at Grayhorse this year. I had planned to be in Hominy too, but I didn’t make it. I needed to return home sooner than I intended, and it was hard to leave. The desire and expectation to be present is deep. Each year is precious, builds on the previous, knits us all together.
Coming from this 60-degree summer to Oklahoma-heat is challenging, but it’s what we Osages do. Dress in wool broadcloth and dance in June. It’s the humidity: visitors acknowledge it quietly to each other. It feels awkward to mention it, but it’s a reality check when local Osages say it’s warm, and I understand they aren’t impervious, just determined. And used to the heat.
I wanted to talk about leaving sooner than I planned, because I want to acknowledge the mix of feelings that come when you aren’t able to attend the dances, though you very much want to. You can hear the longing when age, sudden onset or chronic illness, finances, other responsibilities, work or family, make it impossible to attend. I just want to say that much. I’m not the person to talk about the Inlonshka, or our Osage ways. I know what I’ve been taught, the compassion and grace that Leonard Maker and others always showed our family.
Inlonshka is about tradition, and Osages are proud to do things the old way, the hard way. The Nation acknowledges the heat, shares cold water. The beautiful new air-conditioned community buildings are good for respite. We want to keep all of our people safe and healthy.
Higher than average temperatures continue in the Southern Plains with heat indexes of 115 and 120 into July. This cold summer is continuing in the Northwest. Daytime temperatures are in the 60s, only the long days say summer. I’ll be back in July, looking forward to Kihekah Steh and another chance to acclimatize myself to Oklahoma weather. We’ll see how it goes.
