Chapter Five

To begin, I have to thank Past Master Randall Pollard of Union Lodge #4, for his information, correcting my third installment. Andrew Bush was not an attorney and Edwin B. Jordain was not a mason. Elders are a true blessing, with wisdom that flows like the wind. Both the wind and wisdom are often taken for granted, but can be a welcomed breeze of relief. The ability to listen and process is the basis of any oral traditionalists work; seconded only by the art of conversation. For some reason, when many people think of native folks listening to their elders, they get this romantic image of a person sitting at a fire in the woods, listening to the wisdom of a stoic faced, monotone voiced saige with Corinthian Leatehr skin. In reality, it’s really just a part of everyday conversation, and the leather skin only applies to those who smoked for years.

This past week was the Mashpee powwow, despite a little controversy, it was a wonderful time. This was my first powwow in a couple of years as I was in graduate school up in Vermont for the last three powwows. It was also my first powwow in regalia in about 3 years. I only got to wear it the last day of powwow as my cousin who was making it fell behind on a bunch of projects. What I’ve always loved about powwow is the fact that it’s a homecoming for Mashpee Wampanoags scattered all across the world, and a chance to connect with all of these folks… and listen to their tales. Sometimes these tales can seem kind of random and even pointless at the time, but will suddenly have a great deal of meaning and can even provide you with greater insight of a situation you’re facing.

Back to that day in April 2001, at the lodge, awaiting the arrival of the Investigation Committee chair and members, Brother Jibreel arrived. Another connection that Brother Jibreel and I have is that we are both members of Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity, Inc. Along with a winding history of the lodge, and the various personalities associated with it, Jibreel took me on a tour of the building, that culminated with the soon-to-be completed ritual room. Here, I had the pleasure of meeting Warley Williams, a talented, master carpenter and member of the lodge who was finishing the construction on the lodge meeting room upstairs. Our conversation, all be it brief, was a very honest and insightful discussions about the principles and inner-dynamics of brotherhood in general, and the lodge in particular. One by one I began to meet brothers of the lodge, who seemed to be just passing by in the evening, each sharing some information that would eventually make a great deal of sense. Not just as a future brother of the lodge, but as a New Bedford resident; which at the time, I had no idea that I would soon become…

I have a bad habit of starting stories from the middle, as for the last several installments of this tale; I have vacillated between the present and 2001. My story as a Wampanoag traveling from Mashpee to New Bedford actually goes back to 1995, a chance meeting of a youth program director, who brought me here to do some improv theater workshops… ah, that’s the next installment.