Voices of the People

By Traditionally Associated Tribes of Yosemite National Park

Native people have lived in the area now known as Yosemite for thousands of years. From their unique vantage point, members of the Seven Associated Tribes of Yosemite National Park have much to say about themselves and their homeland.

In a first-of-its-kind collaboration, the Tribes have partnered with the National Park Service to produce an account of their diverse histories, family chronicles, and visions for the future, all presented from their perspective and in their own words.

This book presents the memories and stories of elders that take the reader back in time to the creation of Half Dome. Historical accounts through the eyes of the Tribes relate the devastation that occurred beginning with the California Gold Rush, as foreign diseases, genocide, and forced removal decimated the Tribes almost to the point of extinction. Over time, with remarkable courage and resilience, present-day members of the Tribes engaged with one another and with the park to begin the process of reestablishing themselves, their culture, and their rightful place within Yosemite.

Their stories present readers with opportunities for introspection and to learn more about themselves and their interactions with others.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yosemite Conservancy
• Release date: May 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781951179175

Traditionally Associated Tribes of Yosemite National Park

The Traditionally Associated Tribes of Yosemite National Park are the Bishop Paiute Tribe, Bridgeport Indian Colony, Mono Lake Kootzaduka’a Tribe, North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California, Picayune Rancheria of the Chukchansi Indians, Southern Sierra Miwuk Nation, and the Tuolumne Band of Me-Wuk Indians.

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NORTH FORK RANCHERIA OF MONO INDIANS

Nikwa Nim (We Are the People)

Tribal History—Past, Present, Future

Munahoo (hello), we are the Western Mono (North Fork Mono).

Protecting, sustaining, and enhancing the health, welfare, culture, and future of the tribe is an ongoing mission.

Like the glaciers that carved Yosemite Valley, we have been present in the region for over ten thousand years. We call ourselves Nim, which means people. Our history spans thousands of years and can be told through stories handed down by each generation, told through the intricate designs in our basketry, and told through our grandmothers, grandfathers, and all those before and after us.

Prior to the arrival of the Spaniards, our people were living and gathering at elevations up to twelve thousand feet in the high mountain ridges, down into the Central Valley, and as far as the coastal region. The abundant resources were our livelihood and respect was given to all living things. The Spaniards began their efforts to colonize and forcibly convert California Indians, which caused irreversible impacts felt for generations. After the Spaniards came, the American ideal of Manifest Destiny began to take hold, and federal Indian policy spread throughout the country to tame the Indians, and make them civilized. The gold rush was devastating to the California Indians. Federal Indian policy exists today, along with California policy, and still impacts our tribe.

In 1916, eighty acres of land located in North Fork, California, was placed in trust for the use of the North Fork Band of landless Indians. During this period, Mike and Susan Johnson and their family were the only occupants on the designated land. In 1958, the eighty acres were taken out of trust status by the federal government, along with other lands throughout the state, and Susan Johnson was no longer a federally recognized Indian. In 1979, California Indian Legal Services filed a class action lawsuit, Tillie Hardwick v. United States, which restored federal status in a 1983 settlement. Seventeen tribes were re-recognized in 1987, and the eighty acres was transferred into trust for the two heirs of Susan Johnson. The descendants of these two heirs established the North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California. We are a tribal sovereign nation, recognized by the United States government.

Today, we have over two thousand tribal citizens and we are one of the largest tribes in California. Like many tribes, we are beginning to revitalize our language and customs, which include storytelling, basketry, resource management, and many other traditions that only elders know. We continue our ceremonies, which are practiced by many families. Families have their own stories, language, customs, and gathering practices. A limited number of elders speak the language fluently and teach it.

Tribal citizens at Tunnel View, October 2008. Back row, left to right: Dorothy Mason, Patrick A. Beihn, Barbara Works; middle row, left to right: Leora Beihn, Ruby Pomona, Christina McDonald; front: Antonio Beihn. Photo by Christina McDonald, courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

Rosalie Wenz Bethel, c. 1960s. Photo courtesy of Yosemite National Park Archives: Craig Bates Collection, Box 11 Folder 527.

Our tribe has a variety of programs and services that provide support and assistance to our people, including housing, social services, child care, educational scholarships, internships, job training opportunities, education, and outreach. These programs are supported through grants from and contracts with local, state, and federal government programs.

We are dedicating this chapter to the Mike and Susan Johnson family, and all other Nim families who survived the historical trauma.

This chapter is dedicated to these Western Mono families and their lineal descendants:

Water (Pi-yah)

Nuck-a-hee, listen, what do you hear?

I’m going by what the elders told me happened in the 1800s. Burning was in the fall of the year when the plants were all dried up, when it was going to rain. They’d burn areas when they would see it’s in need. If the brush was too high and too brushy it gets out of control. If the shrubs got two to four feet in height it would be time to burn. They’d burn every two years. Both men and women would set the fires. The flames wouldn’t get very high. It wouldn’t burn the trees, only the shrubs. They burned around the camping grounds where they lived and around where they gathered. They also cleared pathways between camps. Burning brush helped to save water. They burned in the valleys and foothills. I never heard of the Indians setting fires in the higher mountains, but don’t take my word for it.

—ROSALIE BETHEL¹

We have a story to tell, a story that is like the water that flows from the highest peaks, breaks out into springs, rivers, creeks, and into valleys, all you have to do is listen. Our people understand how water is part of a huge system that cycles in and cycles out, and must be respected.

Our people have a connection with water that many people will never understand. Water is used to cleanse during ceremonies, is an indicator of plant and animal species, and, most importantly, is needed for traditional foods and other resources to grow. Water brings life.

I remember a wise elder told me as a child how we are connected and I thought I would share it with you.

Creator sees that Mother Earth has a thirst, He gives her rain. One precious rain drop gently trickles down, kissing an oak tree on the way down, it makes its way into a small stream and joins a few friends and they travel slowly toward the river. As the friendly stream meets up with the river, there they find family. Many are pleased with the river as it sways through the land heading toward the ocean. The deer tiptoe to its edge, the bear catches salmon, the beaver works to shape its resting places. When the family reaches the ocean there is history, relatives from many nations, from old and new. They gather here and remember the journey.

We are all connected. It is important that we remember these connections and thus we constantly honor them. Like where we came from. It was not a short journey for that rain drop to make it to the ocean. Connect with your elders. We can learn a lot from them and they can also learn from us. We are connected to each other, like the stream and the river.

Share and connect. We are all an important piece of a beautiful story; make your chapter a great memory to share with every character in your life. Elders are a great gift from the Creator and one day He will want them back, so cherish the time we have them for. They are the best compass for our journey in life. Be connected, my people. Pee-sha nah-nah-mah-bee-tseeah-nah, Nee No hee E suit Sah, E Neum. Ah-wee ah noh (take care of one another, I love you my people, until we meet again).

—KATIE PARRA, 2016

South Fork Merced River, December 2008. Photo by Christina McDonald, courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

Lower Yosemite Fall and part of the middle cascade, December 2008. Photo by Christina McDonald, courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

My grandmother used a water ditch to divert water from the creek to her home. This water was used for her garden, which was plentiful, and she would share her crop with her neighbors.

—JUANITA WILLIAMS

Fire (Kos-so)

Yibano (fall), time to burn.

The Indians used to burn in the fall. They burned in the oaks, chaparral, ponderosa pines, and fir.… Different areas were set on fire in the fall, brushy areas, not the same spots every year. Now the fires burn everything.… In those times it would seldom get in the crown of the trees. It would just burn grass. The biggest mistake the forestry people made is to try and prevent fire.… You could ride a horse anywhere without running into brush. Now you can’t even get off the road. The same is true in the higher mountains.

—DAN MCSWAIN²

Our people, like many tribal nations, have used fire to revitalize the landscape. Fire is a method that we have used for generations. Low, intense fires increase the abundance of resources for wildlife and people. Traditional ecological practices continue to this day, at smaller levels and not on a broad scale like in the days of Dan McSwain’s and older generations. We have used this method of burning for generations and now scientists are just realizing the ecosystem benefits. The landscape has changed during the last one hundred years, and traditional burning is needed to restore the land to a condition that is healthy.

Some of that stuff just stays there and doesn’t produce anything, so they would burn it and it would come back in again better than it was—full of vitality, with many more stalks to get. My family would burn it whenever they thought it was necessary—every two or three years.

—VIRGIL BISHOP³

My parents talked about the old-time Indians burning. All the elders talked about the Indians burning as they came down the mountains in the fall to the lower elevations. It was common knowledge. They’d burn in October or the last of September. The fires didn’t burn out of control. Nacomas Turner said they let Yosemite National Park go to heck because they let the trash stay on the ground for so many years. Walking in the forest is like walking on foam rubber. The litter must have been a foot deep. Everything our people did fifty years ago they don’t dare do today. My dad and mother used to burn on their properties.

—SYLVENA MAYER⁴

Wawona Point, March 2016. Photo by Christina McDonald, courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

Devils Postpile, October 2015. Photo by Taya McDonald.

Geography

Wah-ho-na (big trees), oldest among us.

Our people traded with other tribes in the region … from the coast to the Eastern Sierras … pishop, piñon nuts, acorn flour, beads, obsidian, berries … and many other resources were bartered and visiting was done with families.

—NORTH FORK RANCHERIA ENVIRONMENTAL COMMITTEE⁵

During one of these trips my grandmother, Susan Johnson, and Annie (Jackson) Lewis were traveling with their families in the high country going to the other side when they encountered what they called a shaggy cow. They had to hide from it because it chased them.

—JUANITA WILLIAMS

Mrs. Teaford says that her Tribe … held their mountain country from Mammoth Pass and Red’s Meadow … and Devils Postpile as belonging to her people.

—CRAIG BATES, FORMER YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK ETHNOLOGIST⁶

The big trees are special to our people. They were small when our ancestors walked among them, and tower over us now. Like us, they have survived impacts to their homeland, and many, too many, were cut down. This area is unique, just like our people, connected to each other by land, water, air, and fire. The big trees are respected and held in high regard as the oldest species on the planet, and we give thanks to them for being here, and pray for their continued health.

Our people, like many of the local tribes, utilized the entire landscape for our survival. The region from the coast to the Sierra Nevada ranges was utilized by our people. Our people are connected to the landscape, and knowledge is passed down to each generation so our children know the trails, the resources we used, and how to take care of the land.

Grizzly Giant, Mariposa Grove, May 2012. Left to right: Taya McDonald, Elaina Wesley, Alvin J. McDonald, Harrison Wesley. Photo by Christina McDonald, courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

Animals

Tah-gook (rattlesnake), animal tracks tell us.

My grandparents said stories were to be told only on the snowy days of winter so as to not disturb Rattlesnake, snug in his winter home, because he, in turn, disturbs all other living creatures. Rattlesnake would appear soon enough in spring, they said, when the orange-breasted flicker returned from his southern haunts and began singing to Rattlesnake that the days were warm, and he should come out and enjoy the sunshine.

—GAYLEN LEE⁷

Animals show us behaviors that have helped our tribal people survive. Animals guide us to food sources and water to drink; they let us know when inclement weather is approaching, provide entertainment, and, most importantly, are indicators of our environment. We utilize animals for many things such as food, resources (deer awls for basketry), ceremonies, and games. In the past we used rabbit furs and other animal furs for clothing.

Animals are indicators of a healthy environment. We highly respect animals because they teach us things and they tell us when a threat is near. They tell us these things because we are connected to them. We have songs and stories about them.

When we see a bear has been killed by a car in the park, it is a sad thing to see, and we pray for him to help his spirit go on his journey.

—CHRISTINA MCDONALD, 2016

Mule deer. Photo by Katie Parra, courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

Resource Use

Tah-cah-cub (redbud), one of our tribal colors.

I saw my people were fading away. Who are we without our language and our traditions? I’m just a plain person, not one of the gifted ones, but I keep at it. I’ll never reach the heights of the old days, but it’s important to keep at it. These baskets represent the Indian ways, and they should be respected and appreciated by the Indians and by non-Indians too. Every basket represents the individual person who made it—through the basket you can see that person—but more importantly, every basket represents the hope that you will know that there were Indians here and that they were people to respect.

—ROSALIE BETHEL⁸

Our Mono men, women, and children have utilized natural and cultural resources for generations. These resources were used for food, medicine, housing, ceremonial functions, entertainment, safety, protection, and many, many functional items precisely engineered to survive in the environment. Today, these resources are still used, although not as heavily used for every function as was necessary generations ago. These foods, such as acorn, are an important resource to protect and a food source needed for special events and family gatherings. There are a handful of acorn makers who continue the skills of collecting, storing, cracking, grinding, leaching, and cooking for their families. An acorn maker that is able to master the old cooking style by using soapstone rocks as a heating source to cook the acorn has perfected their method from years and years of experience. Held in high regard, their acorn is smooth, the color and consistency perfected by years of experience and knowledge learned from generations of acorn makers. The acorn makers are part of the life cycle of the oak. Giving thanks to the oak tree and other plants is essential for the continued health of the plant, and to the people who utilize the resource.

Another resource we continue to utilize is the western redbud, which is used for basketry. Basketweaving has a variety of techniques, and a variety of plants are used to create utilitarian and collection pieces. Many of these resources are hard to find, as are the skilled basketweavers who produce the baskets. Basketweavers use a certain method to gather and tend to their materials. These selective practices are scheduled on a rotational basis that produces the yield and quality needed by the weaver. Years of experience and knowledge gained from elders is the only way to become a master weaver. Mathematics and science play a role in which plants are utilized. A systematic approach is used in each coiled or twined basket, and if a weaver isn’t satisfied with his or her work, it is taken apart and the weaver begins to redo the hours of work that may have already been put into the basket. A weaver does the work in a very methodological way and wants it to be perfect.

Redbud, April 2006. Photo courtesy of North Fork Rancheria of Mono Indians of California.

Western redbud, a beautiful shrub, is one of the materials used as a binding strand and is also used as the base material for a utility basket. Redbud may seem abundant, but access to quality materials is prevented by private land ownership.