Winter in the Longhouse
By Jill Fish, PhD
Tuscarora Nation
Drawing of a Haudenosaunee longhouse and the three sisters by © Cole Tidemann, Cayuga Nation, 2020.
Hundreds of years ago, you could find a traditional Haudenosaunee village nestled in a clearing in the forest, surrounded by wooden palisades. The few thousands of people who lived there were sustained by the natural resources of yękwaˀęˀ úˀwneh, otherwise known as mother earth. For the Haudenosaunee, each season had its purpose. During the spring, Haudenosaunee people spent their time preparing the soil for planting crops, tapping trees for maple syrup, and gathering fish, as well as tree bark. The summer was spent gathering nuts and berries, building longhouses, and tending to the Haudenosaunee’s main crops known as the Three Sisters (corn, beans, and squash). In the fall, the Haudenosaunee harvested their crops and hunted in preparation for the winter, which was much different than the other seasons. With the weather turning cold, Haudenosaunee people retreated indoors to their longhouses. Longhouses were located throughout Haudenosaunee villages, with one for each clan. There were multiple families that lived in each longhouse, all of whom shared kinship with one another based on their matrilineal clan. As long and narrow dwellings, longhouses were a minimum of one hundred feet long and twenty feet wide. With a door on each end, Haudenosaunee families entered their longhouses to see a large, open space that was framed by cedar, hickory, and elm poles. The lower tier of the longhouse included a sleeping area for each family, communal cooking spaces, and fireplaces throughout. With tree bark for the roofing and siding, and corresponding smoke holes for the fireplaces, longhouses provided the perfect gathering space for a Haudenosaunee winter tradition to take place — storytelling.
“Now as the last leaves have fallen, the earth begins to freeze, and snow touches the ground, we are reminded that it is winter in the longhouse.”
Drawing of the Creation Story by © Cole Tidemann, Cayuga Nation, 2020.
Longhouses are a significant part of our traditional way of life, that is, the Six Nations of Haudenosaunee Confederacy. Oral tradition tells us that the original five nations — the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca — were at war with one another until the Creator sent an individual, known as the Peacemaker, to bring them together to form the Haudenosaunee Confederacy in the Great Lakes region. Here, each nation would live by the Great Law of Peace, also known as the Great Law. Though this is seldom known to or acknowledged by others, the Haudenosaunee Confederacy and the Great Law, in particular, is one of the world’s oldest democracies; elements of Haudenosaunee governance are reflected throughout the U.S. Constitution, though “Indians” are seldom mentioned in it, let alone specific nations. Both oral and written histories trace the ancestral, geographical, and cultural bonds of my nation, the Tuscarora, to the original five nations of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. Thus, after the Tuscarora migrated from North Carolina to New York as a result of a devastating battle with colonists during the Tuscarora War, they were accepted into the Haudenosaunee Confederacy as the sixth and final nation. To this day, the Haudenosaunee Confederacy is located on either side of Lake Erie and Ontario in the U.S. and Canada, as well as the Finger Lakes in New York. While we are also known as the Iroquois Confederacy, some eschew the term Iroquois because of its suspected colonial origins. Many of us refer to ourselves simply as the Haudenosaunee, meaning the People of the Longhouse. It was there, through the stories told in the longhouse, that our ancestors were taught what it means to be Haudenosaunee.
Now as the last leaves have fallen, the earth begins to freeze, and snow touches the ground, we are reminded that it is winter in the longhouse. During this time, Haudenosaunee life starts slowing down, and inside the longhouse, Haudenosaunee families are forging connections through stories; connections between past ancestors and present relatives, both in this world, as well as beyond it. Haudenosaunee stories are not simply stories, but rather, are time portals wrapped in words, that take us to another space, place, and time. There are mothers, fathers, aunties, uncles, grandmas, grandpas and children visiting around the fire, all of who are bringing Haudenosaunee lessons and teachings to life through stories. Through rich, descriptive, narrative accounts, Haudenosaunee storytellers recount our origins in the Haudenosaunee Creation Story, in which Sky Woman falls from Sky World onto the back of a welcoming turtle, and with the help of birds and marine animals, creates Turtle Island, also known as North America. Some stories describe our values, like the story of the Great Tree of Peace, wherein the Peacemaker plants a pine tree that represents the Great Law, the roots of which can be traced from each of the four directions by those looking for peace. Other stories are about our beliefs, including the story of the Three Sisters, who are the spirits of corn, beans, and squash that help provide a bountiful harvest for the Haudenosaunee. Should you peer through the door of a Haudenosaunee longhouse in the winter, you will see stories such as these transport both the storyteller and listener to a cultural landscape of generations past to retrieve Haudenosaunee knowledge that can be harnessed for present and future generations.
“While this winter may seem exceptionally cold, long, and dark, the stories told throughout it continue to shape who we are as Haudenosaunee people. For others, let our storytelling traditions be a reminder of a teaching that holds particular importance this winter: It is during this time that you will learn who you are.”
Drawing of elder and child sharing stories, with the Haudenosaunee sky dome symbol © Cole Tidemann, Cayuga Nation, 2020.
Winter in the longhouse ushers in countless Haudenosaunee stories; stories that allow us to transcend the spatial and temporal limitations of earth, and propel us back to Haudenosaunee pasts to preserve our cultural teachings, and leverage them for Haudenosaunee futures. While we are the People of the Longhouse, it is the stories of the longhouse that enrich and invigorate connections to Haudenosaunee ways of knowing and being that sustain us through the spring, summer, and fall, and for subsequent generations. Although the Haudenosaunee no longer live in longhouses, one can find several newly constructed longhouses throughout our present day communities, as representations of the Haudenosaunee traditions and teachings that remain significant to our contemporary lives. With colonialism came transformations to Haudenosaunee villages, and overtime, Haudenosaunee people transitioned to living in modern, single-family homes. Despite changes to Haudenosaunee life wrought by colonialism, the conditions that give rise to Haudenosaunee stories persist, that is, valuing tight-knit family bonds and the transmission of intergenerational knowledge. With homes adjacent to one another on the Tuscarora Nation, I grew up walking next door to my auntie and uncle’s home, and afterwards, my grandma and grandpa’s house, which were mere feet from each other. Our constellation of family homes mirrored that of a longhouse, as did the traditions, like my grandfather sharing stories with me as we sat together in front of his wood stove, sometimes for hours. Long after I moved away, I returned home each winter for sustenance in the form of stories, and came back longing for more in the summer, up until his passing.
With the coronavirus pandemic, storytelling looks a little different this winter. The most precious people in our families — elders — are at the most risk. In lieu of telling stories around the fire this winter, many of us are turning to virtual connections to carry us through the season, to warmer and brighter months. While this winter may seem exceptionally cold, long, and dark, the stories told throughout it continue to shape who we are as Haudenosaunee people. For others, let our storytelling traditions be a reminder of a teaching that holds particular importance this winter: It is during this time that you will learn who you are.
Jill Fish, Ph.D. is from the Tuscarora Nation of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy of Western New York, which is where she was born and raised. She received her BA in Psychology and Philosophy from Niagara University, her MS in Mental Health Counseling from the University at Buffalo, and her PhD in Counseling Psychology from the University of Minnesota. The focus of her research and clinical practice is transforming social institutions to be more just and equitable for Native American and Indigenous peoples. Towards this end, she strives towards the integration of science, practice, and culture in her work, in which she uses innovative story-based strategies, traditional medicines, and cultural modalities of healing to promote the health and well-being of Native peoples. She has been invited to give a TEDxTalk on her work titled, Honoring Indigenous Cultures and Histories. Additionally, Jill is a recipient of the Ford Foundation’s Predoctoral Fellowship from the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine, as well as the American Psychological Association’s Predoctoral Fellowship in Mental Health and Substance Abuse Services. She completed her pre-doctoral internship at Hennepin County Medical Center in Minneapolis, MN, a Level I Trauma Center. She is currently a postdoctoral fellow at the Center for Care Delivery and Outcomes Research at the Minneapolis VA Health Care System and the University of Minnesota Medical School.