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Mary Hrovat
@maryhrovat.bsky.social
Essayist and poet. Autistic. Books, trees, clouds, sky. maryhrovat.com slowquiet.substack.com (free newsletter)
1k followers1.1k following1k posts
MHmaryhrovat.bsky.social

I loved this paragraph, from Ladies of the Canyons (Lesley Poling-Kempes). The year is 1903, and Natalie is Natalie Curtis, later Natalie Curtis Burlin. I wish we knew the guide's name. She might have avoided giving it to protect the guide from trouble with the Bureau of Indian Affairs.

During one desert trek, a sandstorm engulfed Natalie and her Hopi guide and literally blew away the road. They walked into the night, and as the sky cleared and became luminous with stars, Natalie's guide began to sing. The wild beauty of the music, and the soulful, uninhibited quality of the guide's voice, astonished Natalie. Even as her classically educated ear struggled to understand the pitch and cadence of his song, Natalie attempted to sing along. "I joined my voice to that of my guide. Not a soul to hear, not one to comment or criticize—only the desert stretching broad and far, only the craggy buttes and cliffs, only the heavens and those great bright stars. What freedom to sing one's very sould out into such a wide vast night! We lifted our faces to the sky and sang."
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MHmaryhrovat.bsky.social

The U.S. was at the time attempting to assimilate Native Americans into Anglo-American culture and stop them from using their own language and singing their songs.

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MH
Mary Hrovat
@maryhrovat.bsky.social
Essayist and poet. Autistic. Books, trees, clouds, sky. maryhrovat.com slowquiet.substack.com (free newsletter)
1k followers1.1k following1k posts