Honoring Tradition

My third great-grandmother, Jeanette Smith Leavitt. Not the best quality, but it’s all I have.

Last month I posted a photo of my English ancestors for my Passions and Obsessions blog. This month, I’m sharing a photo of my third great-grandmother, Jeanette Smith Leavitt, and it’s perfect because my book of the month is Coyote Speaks: Wonders of the Native American World by Ari Berk and Carolyn Dunn.

Why is it perfect?

Well you see, Jeanette was Navajo.

Even more interesting is the folklore surrounding her story.

As The Story Goes

My ancestors, John and Sarah Smith, from Salem, Massachusetts crossed the plains as Mormon Pioneers and settled in Southern Utah, living in Fort Louisa, a fortified town.

One night in the early 1850s, a group of traveling Native Americans came into the fort and made camp in the street close to their home. They made a campfire and ate their dinner. Afterwards, they began to quarrel.

Sarah listened for a while, but then decided to go out and see what the trouble was. They were quarreling over a little Navajo girl, who they had stolen from her tribe. For whatever reason, they decided the child was no longer of any use for their purposes, and they were debating how to get rid of her.

Sarah asked them to let her have the child. They wanted to know what she would give them for her. Sarah offered a blanket and then a horse. But they refused both. She went to her house and took one of her husband’s guns.

Thankfully, the chief or leader agreed to the trade.

Sarah took the little girl in—saving her life—and raised her as her own, acculturating her to their ways. She gave her the name, Jeanette, and Jeanette eventually married Dudley Leavitt, who descends from my English ancestors.

Over a decade ago I moved to New Mexico finding myself, Jeanette’s descendant, a hundred plus years later, living beside the Navajo Nation.

I suppose you could say I’ve come home.

And although my Navajo DNA does not show up in me as it does in some of my other siblings (such as my late brother, Bryson) my best friend, who is Navajo, still claims me.

Yet sadly, because Jeanette was raised by a white family, we don’t know what clan she (or I) belong to.

Clan Affiliation

Navajo society is based on clan affiliation. Originally there were four clans created by the Changing Woman. Their names (in English): Bitterwater, Towering House, One Walks Around You, and Mud People.

Over the years, other clans were added, such as Water’s Edge, and Red Running Into the Water.

And here’s how it works: clanship is determined through the mother’s clan, and a child is “born for” the father’s clan.

When two Navajo people greet each other, according to tradition, they’re expected to disclose their respective clans (both their mother’s and father’s).

Understanding this ancestral history is still emphasized in Navajo society; they believe this shows respect for tradition, which has been passed down for generations.

And this is very true. I’ve had several Navajo friends comment on how they don’t understand the way many of us get through life not knowing where we’ve come from, or, having a large support group to face life’s challenges.

The REDress Project

Learning my great-grandmother’s story led to my researching the continuing epidemic of violence against Indigenous women.

Indigenous women go missing every day in this country. You’ll never hear about it on the news. Cases are often overlooked or dismissed by law enforcement due to jurisdictional confusion. Cases slip through the cracks. Hours are spent arguing over whose responsibility it is to do the primary investigation.

Is it the tribe’s? Is it the federal government’s? It is the local law enforcement’s?

Days, weeks, months pass, and there has not been even a basic investigation. If it does happen, it’s often half-hearted.

In recent years there has been positive steps towards addressing this epidemic, such as task forces launched, and an ongoing art series called The REDdress Project.

The REDress Project brings awareness to the violence against Indigenous women. Each dress represents an Indigenous woman who has been murdered or is missing, and is often hung in high traffic places as a way to educate people to the crisis.

The dresses communicate loudly without getting all bogged down with numbers.

I learned in absolutely horror that murder is the third leading cause of death amongst Indigenous women ages 10-24, with murder rates ten times above the national average.

The color red was chosen to reflect the power and strength of Indigenous women. Native women are strong. Going all the way back to the days of colonization, Native women have advocated for their stolen loved ones.

And even though the story of my great-grandmother ended well, and her life was saved, I can’t help but think of her biological mother and the incredible grief she must have felt knowing she would never see her little girl again, as I’m sure she was doing whatever she could, with what power she had, to find her daughter.

Traditional Indigenous beliefs suggest red is the only color that spirits can see. And so the red dress was also selected to call in the spirits of the lost.

And if the family needs a place to go and connect with their lost loved one, the red dress provides that space for them.

Again, not my ancestor, but another photo I absolutely adore: the pride and love in the mother’s face as she presents her very happy baby. I’ve always thought the cradleboard would have had a very soothing effect, creating a place of safety and security for a young infant. This photo was taken between 1904 and 1932, and the rights belong to the Western History/Genealogy Department, Denver Public Library.