It’s not as if all Native stories are sacred. Natives like to spin a good yarn like anybody else, telling jokes, fables, or raucous tales of the trouble their buddies got into. But Native people are, without question, storytellers. That’s part of the heritage. And sacred or not, Native stories are special. They build bonds. They can heal trauma or preserve suppressed traditions and histories. Some carry teachings that help guide Native children so that their minds and actions match their cultures. Stories can also be hazardous in the hands of the wrong person. Some might be inappropriate to a listener who’s too young, or outside the tribal culture, or uninitiated into a certain life path or profession. Some must be told exactly as the elders told them—like reciting Shakespeare.
Most ancestors in North America didn’t leave their most sacred stories lying around in books to be misinterpreted and abused. They safeguarded these treasures carefully through oral storytelling. This makes some Native stories extraction-proof, transferred only with intention and consent. When a Native person receives a story, they’re taking on a responsibility—to tell that story right, to protect it, and to be accountable for wherever it goes and whatever damage it might do. You story to their cousins for a laugh. Because stories are unextractable, they’re one of the last resources over which Native people have theoretical and practical sovereignty. And that sovereignty is sacred.
