>> C: Hello. I'm Carla Hayden, the Librarian of Congress, and welcome to this special event celebrating Native American Heritage Month for 2021, and as we begin this discussion today, I want to start by acknowledging that we are present in the ancestral homeland of the Piscataway tribe, and we pay our respects to them as the traditional custodians of the land where the library now sits. We're delighted to be joined by our 23rd U.S. Poet Laureate, Joy Harjo. Joy, a member of the Muskogee Creek Nation, is the first Native American poet to serve as our laureate. She is currently serving a third term and promoting her signature project, Living Nations, Living Words, which you can check out on our website loc.gov. She has also edited an anthology for the project, which I have here, a handsome copy featuring a map from our Geography and Map Division on the cover. Today, Joy has come from her hometown of Tulsa, Oklahoma to join and help us welcome an old friend of hers to the Library of Congress. Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland. Like Joy, Secretary Haaland is a trailblazer. In 2018, she was one of the first Native American women elected to Congress, and she is the first Native American cabinet secretary in U.S. history. The Secretary is a member of the Pueblo of Laguna and a 35th generation New Mexican, so we're delighted to have her here today from the other side of the Capitol, to talk to us about the power of poetry. Welcome, both of you, and I have to ask how you came to know each other, because I understand you've been knowing each other for quite a while? >> D: Yes, yes, I've known Joy since I took a class of hers when I was at UNM as an undergraduate. I was a big fan of hers for a long time, and realized that I needed an elective class when I was a senior in college, and I was so lucky to have her class when I was a senior. >> J: All right. I always remember her coming in that day, because you came in with a motorcycle helmet. >> C: Boy, that should have made an impression. >> J: It did because you didn't look like the usual motorcycle person, but you told me at some point that it had to do with fossil fuels and not wanting to waste, you know, wanting to use a car to waste gas. >> C: And so that consciousness -- >> J: Yes. >> C: -- about the land, of course, was part of your tradition, but also you -- very much a part of your life. >> D: Yes, and what a perfect way to express yourself and your views and your passions than with poetry, right? >> C: And to have a professor that you knew about and everything was that pretty thrilling? Was it intimidating? >> D: It was very thrilling for me, of course. Everyone wanted to take her class, and I think I must have signed up a little late because I needed to get approval, which is why I went to her office to ask her if I could get in, and of course, she's always very supportive of Native American students, and even after I took her class, I believe it was spring semester, she invited me that summer to the very first Native American writers conference, Returning the Gift Writers Conference in Norman, Oklahoma, so I drove with her and her daughter and her granddaughter to Oklahoma. We went on a road trip, and I was inspired wholly during that entire weekend. It was an amazing opportunity for me. J: Yes, that was a gathering. It was the first gathering of its kind, very historic, of native writers from everywhere from the continental U.S. to Hawaii. People from South America even came up for that conference, and people still talk about it. There were readings. People read. There were meetings and it was it was quite a historic gathering. >> C: And then you went on, I understand that you have an anthology, and you were in it, Secretary. >> D: Yes, yes, I have a poem in there, and in fact, I believe I was working for Joy -- >> C: Yeah? >> D: -- at the time, so we've been together for a long time. >> C: Yeah. >> D: At one time, I could walk to her house, because we lived that close to each other, so for some reason, our lives are always intertwined, and of course, it's always perfect. >> C: Well, I have to ask then, your lives have been intertwined since you were a student coming in with a helmet and all of this, being in the class of a professor you'd followed, and then through the years. How does it feel to be in together now, the Poet Laureate of the United States and the Secretary of Interior? >> D: Well, I guess I can, you know, for me, like, there are a lot of people in my life who keep me truly humble. My child is one of them, but certainly folks back home, they'll always keep you humble. >> C: Really? >> D: [inaudible] It's working. >> C: Yes. >> D: And related to that, and so we're just, it's almost like, we still have the same relationship we did way back then. Things haven't changed between us and, and so. >> J: Yeah. >> C: Trusted friends, someone that you can talk to about anything. >> J: Yeah. That's true. >> C: And you can go together, so you also share that love of poetry. Now, one path went to Poet Laureate, another to Secretary of Interior, but you still have that love of poetry and I understand that you have poems that you wanted to read to each other. >> J: Yes. Yeah, and they're very connected because, you know, being a poet is very connected to environmental justice, at least I see poetry, words have power. They move through us. I consider words, especially poetic words, or words of poetry moving through from that place we come from, from the creative force that loves us, and I got into poetry because of a love for -- I could see that words could change things, and as inner love -- as I came to poetry, because certainly I love language, but because of love for the land, and for justice. I started writing poetry as a student at the University of New Mexico also, and I was part of the Kiva Club and our work, it was started as a social club, but we became kind of a central location for, you know, environmental justice. We -- I sat in with meetings with coal companies, and then I would respond in poetry in my own quiet way, just writing about what I was seeing. I wasn't upfront making speeches, but I was making poetry and poetry comes from listening to the plants, to all of it, you know? It's this -- there's this immense conversation going on, you know, with between the plants and the stones and our ancestors and other poets, and I came to poetry, so it's similar. Deb is doing, you know, coming out of that, and is a good poet, and it's come out of -- she's doing the work in another kind of way that's much more -- it's hardcore, yeah. >> C: And it works together, though. >> J: Yes, it does. >> C: Because you bring that sensibility to what you're doing. >> D: Words matter. >> C: They do, and to have you and I just opened the book to try to find it and there you were, right there. Right there in that, so what would you like to share with each other and share with all of us too? >> J: I'd like to share. I'll start with this, a poem. It's a prose poem, which means it's not in short lines or more lyric, but even in prose, there's lyricism in prose, and it's called For Water, and certainly -- and this was foretold, you know, and I know Deb always like to -- always like me, we like to be in those circles of people who know things and then you get to my age or our age even, you know, that all of those teachers are gone , are -- you know, a lot of them have -- we still have their words. We still have the tracks of their words, what they've left behind, and one of the things they used to say was the water, that the water is precious, and we were going to deal with water shortages, fires, the things that we're seeing now, but we need to speak for water. I mean, we are -- humans, we're made of water, you know? -- high percentage of water, and so what does water ask for human beings? Water wants to be acknowledged. We need to -- we all have a charge to care for it, so this poem is called for water. A fight for -- by Deb Holland -- a fight for water, for land begins at home. At the kitchen table, in the bath before bed while your mother recites a story from her childhood, our family traditions, to watch out for land, water, animals, to pray to and for them so they will always be there. Don't waste, was my mother's mantra, a mantra for the ages, to be careful with the things that keep us alive. Not one drop of water has come into or left our planet in 4.6 billion years. We have to make it last. At a tender age, my grandma woke me up at sunrise to fetch water. The sun cast the golden light on the red mesa at 6 a.m. and the dirt road is welcoming. A shallow pan with all anyone needed to begin a day. Potch [phonetic] -- let it rain is what desert Indians say. I am here because my ancestors knew how to survive, how to plant, how to harvest, how to collect water, dance and pray for rain. I'm here because my ancestors believed that living another day was worth my life. Giving is like receiving and above all else, staying on the land our mother beckoned us to so many centuries ago. It was her plan, not ours. The obligation works both ways. It can now be determined that Indians should not perish from the Earth but be fruitful and multiply. Annihilation was never meant to be, but the Indian Wars are not yet finished and the Indians are still fighting, still defending what is theirs, like their ancestors, defending the same water and the same land, a repeat of the not so ancient path -- past. Indians have given enough, a wise Pueblo once said -- a wise Pueblo woman once said. The Lakotas and Dakotas and the White Earth people who once roamed for thousands like the buffalo, unencumbered until fences and people and gunshot and cannons took the toll. The water is what they still have, what we still have. >> D: I have to put my glasses on for this. >> C: Of course. >> D: So I am reading from An American Sunrise, and this was the book that Joy published when she became the U.S. Poet Laureate, which I was so proud of, and I just want to make -- I just want to say this. We're all firsts, and I think that's important, so thank you also, Dr. Hayden. This is called My Man's Feet by Joy Harjo. They are heroic routes. You cannot mistake them for any other six-foot walker. I could find them in a sea of feet, a planet or universe of feet. They kicked the sky at birth, in that town his great-grandfather found. My man's feet left childhood, past the mineral grid of an oil-flush bust to these atomic eastbound lands. His feet are made of his mother's spiritual concern, and of his father, historic and mindfully upright. What walkers, from mound-builders steps that led to the sky maker, past Spanish galleons, stagecoach, and railroad snaker. One generation following another, no other feet but these could bear the rock, stubborn, loyal, bare, towering intelligence and children picker-upper. This is the one who owns these feet. What an anchor his feet provide for his unmatched immense ability and get up againality. I've danced behind this man in the stomp dance circle, our feet beating rhythm together, man, woman, boy, girl, sun and moon-jumper. My man's feet are the sheer steps of a father looking after his sons, his daughters, for when he laughs, he opens all the doors of our hearts, even as he forgets to shut them when he leaves, and when he grieves for those he loves, he carves out valleys enough to hold everyone's tears. Without -- with his feet, these feet, my man's widely humble, ever steady, beautiful brown feet. >> J: When I take him with me on the road, and I read that poem, there are people lining up to look at his feet. They want to see his feet. >> C: Your man's feet. >> J: Yeah, I told him I was going to make a postcard he could sign. >> C: Yeah, that'd be great. Just take a photo. >> J: Oh, yeah. >> C: Do that, and just pass it out, and Madame Secretary, you could tell that you -- poetry means a lot to you, and so what has it meant to you in your work, and as you have progressed and move through life? >> D: Well, I mean, I think that, as I mentioned, words matter, and when you think about poetry, it's very -- it's to the point. You don't generally waste words in poetry. You say what you mean. You mean what you say, and I've always felt that -- I mean, in my business, there's a lot of reading that goes on, and sometimes there are reports that are, you know, 30 and 40 pages apiece, and, you know, picking up a book like this, and just reading these words on a page that are packed full of meaning, and love, and history, and natural resources. I think it's refreshing and it just -- it sort of fills you up. >> C: It's a balm to, in a way. >> D: Yes. >> C: It helps calming and things, should be very helpful, and -- >> D: And of course, Joy's poetry, through the years, she has given, like she is -- she has written things that so many people have felt for such a long time, and it's, I feel like, it's refreshing when somebody gets you, right? They put their finger on what you're feeling, or they've written it down, so you feel, you know, you feel like someone's listening. >> C: And you're understood, too. >> D: Right, yeah. >> C: Yeah, and conversely, Joy, the poet laureate position is the only federally funded literary position in the U.S., and so as you have been working as Poet Laureate, do you feel that civic aspect to it? >> J: Yes, I feel even as a poet before I was U.S. Poet Laureate, that I'm in -- that we all have service positions, you know? We might be called King or a secretary or a garbage collector, or whatever, but every position is a service position. We're all here to help. We're all here to contribute something and to take care of each other, so I guess U.S. Poet Laureate kind of ups the ante a little bit -- >> C: Yeah. >> J: -- when it comes to that, but I've -- it's enabled me to, I mean, it -- I feel like I'm doing what I've always done, but it's a different -- it's -- I think the poet laureate project kind of shows it kind of, you know, it gave me an opportunity to give back a project, give back something that could be useful to the community. I like thinking of the country as a community. I've said in my poetry and otherwise, that a country is a person, you know? It has a life. There's a way it comes into the world, and, you know, there are processes, just like any child growing up, and so it's a commu -- but it's also a community, and so with a project, I was thinking, well, I'm not the only native poet, you know? We have -- there are many native poets in this country, so that was important, and there's not just one native or people think there's a Native American language, but there -- we're a diverse -- there's a diversity, and in any healthy system, and a healthy kind of community, diversity needs to be honored, because that's health. That's community health, you know, diversity in thought, in poetry, in all kinds of poetry in diversity, so I decided to do a map, a digital map, so that everyone could access it. It has -- almost everyone could access it, and it would show a map. I guess, then I think the next thing is I wanted to have a map that would show how we're connected, and so I picked a map that showed Earth and water. It showed Earth and water. There are no political boundaries because we get into trouble there. There was no boundary between the U.S. and Mexico or Canada, okay? It was just Earth and water, because ultimately we come from that. That's what we'll return to, and we're here. We're part of it. We are Earth, you know? We are, essentially. You look at -- it's all about context. It's like -- and we all need to always search for that context that's larger than the human mind, and when you're there, you see that we are Earth, you know, we're part of this, and so the map is like that, and on it, our native poets showing that we're -- there are many native poets, and we are from all of these different places, so we can hear the poet's voices, which also allowed for a catalogue kind of, of poets voices to be -- that will remain here, past the project, and you can hear the poems and hear the poets talk about place in their communities, and, and that gives -- I think that's important because it gives a context and it helps the community, our community, see that, you know, there's all kinds of poets, all kinds of poetry. We're all over this country, not just in DC, or in these positions, and that we're, you know, we're all together. My original concept was to have every poet, you know? >> C: Every poet. >> J: Every poet, every native poet, and then show every poet and then show how we're connected, because I grew up knowing, you know, like Sonia Sanchez, a wonderful poet. She's a friend. You know, all these different poets have gone on, and we all know each other. You ask any of us in the larger poetry community and, you know, we all know each other, and so I thought, that would be great, but that would take a huge step, to make a map because it's a matrix, or a community. We're in a community that is timeless, and it's also very present and very new. >> C: It's also an extension of the anthology that you did 20 years ago, when the Secretary's in there, and now with living nations, you've expanded that, and with technology, I think your idea could happen. >> J: Yes. >> C: You could add more and you can do that, so there are -- are there more native poets that you were highlighting from 20 years ago? I mean, is it -- >> J: Oh, there's any more. There was another -- I helped with a group of all the experts who are all native poets, and we brought out another anthology last October, called When the Light of the World was Subdued, Our Songs Came Through, a Norton anthology of native poets. It was a historic run, and even then, we could have done three or four volumes, but we had a page count, but yes, there are. And the map can be added to. A native group up in Washington State, made their -- made a map, a digital map, that is -- feeds right off of ours that pinpoints even more poets up in the Washington State area, so, yes. >> C: [inaudible] do you see, we're talking maps and geography and things like that, that any role for poetry and using poetry to give voice to people? >> D: Absolutely, absolutely. Look, so many people have a voice. So many people haven't found their voice, right? And I've, you know, the same way I had never written poetry to speak of before I took Joy's class. Not everyone can take a poetry class from Joy Harjo, professor, but they can read -- >> C: Right. >> D: -- and be inspired, because other people are participating, and I mean, that's what it's all about. It's us leaving the ladder down, so that other people can climb it. It's inspiring people so that they too can add their voice or find their voice, quite frankly. It's not easy to sit down and start writing. >> C: No. >> D: But -- >> C: That's why I'm a librarian. It's not easy and telling the story, and Joy, one of the greatest gifts you've also given has been telling your story and memoir, and you have a new one, and is it part of a three series or? >> J: It seems to be that way. I have a feeling there'll be another one, yeah. >> C: Because the first one, when I read it and just it helped so much understand not only you but everything that you've really stood for, even when you couldn't stand. >> J: Yeah. Well, this is really about we all have poetry ancestors and I like what you were saying about how we're here. You know, others, we make a ladder, and we're here because someone made a ladder or -- >> C: Yes. >> J: -- handholds so that we could come up, and I think of, you know, familial ancestors as well as, you know, we have poetry ancestors. There's poetry ancestors, so this, the new memoir is about, really about those poetry ancestors and learning how to listen. I mean, and I think that's one thing you were saying, Deb. It's hard to sit down and write poetry. It's hard to sit down and listen, you know? -- because, especially now there's just so much racket going on, you know? -- and not just traffic and all but the internet and so much. I think there -- it's constant, and so everyone -- that's available to everyone is to sit. It's important to take care of your soul, your spirit because that's what we have. That's what we're taking with -- how when we go, and we go. That's how we come in, so what feeds it? Poetry feeds that and then to be able to sit down, and you can write, you can -- everyone can do this? It might be poetry, it might not, but it's about listening. It's about -- and I have a hard time sitting down too. If I know I'm going to sit down and write, I start cleaning my house. I start, you know, cleaning or answering e-mails. >> C: Very important, they're very important, and Madame Secretary, do you -- will you be able to incorporate or use poetry and just the power of it as you -- >> D: I mean, it's part of -- at this point, it's part of me, right? It's you -- I have to be selective about what I read simply because I don't have a lot of time to read for pleasure these days, but definitely, it always is. It's important to read what sustains you, right? And poetry is one of those Things. >> C: And to share it with others -- >> D: Yes. >> C: -- the poem about water. In your role, I can see that being really something to open up a meeting or open up a thing and read that to take people to another place. >> D: I hadn't thought of it that way. >> C: Yes. >> J: Yeah. >> C: Programming. >> J: That's a great -- >> C: Programming. >> J: That's a great -- >> C: But it might be something just to get everybody to pause for a minute and think about -- >> J: That's a great idea. >> C: -- and think about the importance of what you're getting ready to talk about, water rights, which -- so you have it in your friendship, because that's what we're celebrating today too, the friendship, because it's important to have mentors. You mentioned that ladder, and it seems like Joy made sure you were able to move up that ladder too. >> D: Yes, Joy has been a wonderful mentor, not just to me, but to hundreds and hundreds of Native students through the years because that's what she truly believes in and so, I mean, look, I am here. I am in this role as Secretary of the Interior, not because of everything I did, but because of opportunities people gave me, because I decided to say yes to those opportunities. I'm here because of the hard work that my grandmother and my grandfather did to preserve our culture and traditions through the worst assimilation policies of the United States. I'm here because, as I mentioned in my poem, my ancestors fought through famine and drought, because they believed very strongly that they were there to provide a future for our people, and I am that future, so as Joyce said, we all recognize that we have an obligation. We have an obligation not just to give back, to be our best selves, to help as many people as possible, to -- and so yes, I am fully immersed in all of this and hopefully, you know, I always say I'm the first Native cabinet secretary. I hope that I'm not the last -- >> C: Yeah, that's right. >> D: -- and so we open these doors, these doors become open. Joy opened a door. You helped her to open that door, right? We were all here to help each other, and we need to move forward, and that's, I think, that's what so many of us feel. >> C: Well, I have to thank you of course on behalf of the Library of Congress, but so many other people for helping us honor Native American month, through poetry and the example that you're giving too, so thank you so much for both of you for being here, and Joy, I can't wait to get into Volume Two.