Monthly Archives: October 2020

Addressing anti-Indigenous behaviors in corvid fandom

There are few animals that generate the kind of enthusiasm and following that ravens, crows, magpies and other birds in the corvidae family do. Their presence in our lives is so significant, they appear in the creation stories and fables of nearly all peoples. Today, our love for these birds has given rise to what feels like an entire industry of books, jewelry, artwork, and of course literal fan clubs, some of which serve many tens of thousands of followers. This community is not only fun to be a part of, but is doing important things to improve the reputation of corvids among those individuals or communities who might consider them a nuisance.

There are a couple of common ways though that, in our attempt to uplift corvids, our fandom sometimes trivializes the traditional beliefs of Indigenous North Americans, primarily through cultural appropriation and erasure. If it’s a new or esoteric term to you, cultural appropriation is the act of copying or using the customs and traditions of a particular people or culture, by somebody from another and typically, more dominant people or society.1  Here are three small steps the non-Native community (of which I am a part) can take to more respectfully celebrate our love of corvids, and the people for whom they traditionally hold deep cultural meaning. 

#1 Don’t use the term  “totem” or “spirit animal,” choose an alternative

In every place and time that humans and corvids co-occur, people have made culturally important meanings, stories, and symbology about these special birds. As a united group of corvid fans, it may therefore be tempting to sample from these practices as a means of creating community. One common way I see this manifest is in the use of terms like spirit animal to describe someone’s connection to a particular corvid. Like animism (the belief that all material possesses agency and a spirit) the term itself appears to have been an invention of anthropologists, but its intent is to refer to Indigenous religious practices. Co-opting this practice as our own, no matter how well-intentioned, devalues cultural traditions that are not ours to claim. 

A quick Etsy search of the term demonstrates just how far we’ve allowed the abasement and monetization of this practice by non-Indigenous people (i.e wine is my spirit animal t-shirts.) Even in cases where our use of cultural appropriation doesn’t feel objectively derogatory (it might even feel honorific), its adoption by non-Indigenous people is the kind of cultural cherry picking that has long frustrated Indigenous communities

“Dear NonNatives: Nothing is your spirit animal. Not a person, place or thing. Nothing is your spirit animal. You do not get one. Spirit animals derive from Anishinaabe and other tribes deeply held religious beliefs. It is a sacred, beloved process that is incredibly secret.”

Mari Kurisato

To ignore those frustrations and claim that our use of this religious practice is either benign or born out of respect, is to prioritize the needs and feelings of ourselves above those for whom literal and cultural genocide remain contemporary battles.  In other words, it’s an act of racism. Of course, Indigenous peoples are not a monolith, and you may find individuals that feel no harm from non-Natives using this term, or even grant you specific access to it (though beware of plastic shamans.) In these cases, I offer that it’s harmless to decline using it despite any special permissions, while adopting it risks hurting and alienating the broader communities for which this or similar terms are sacred. 

Fortunately, there are many alternative ways to express kinship with corvids that do not rely on cultural theft. Here are a few of my favorites: muse, soulmate, best friend, fursona, daemon, icon, desired doppelgänger, secret twin, and familiar. 

#2 Recognize the diversity of Indigenous nations 

Pretty regularly, I see infographics pass through my social media feeds depicting either a photo or some kind of Indigenous-esque looking art and a sound bite about a “Native American” story about crows or ravens. While the intent here is obviously to celebrate a shared love of corvids, the means of doing so makes  no effort to actually learn the story or, importantly, from whom that story originates. 

There are 574 federally recognized Indigenous nations in the United States. There are even more when you include non-federally recognized tribes (ex: the Duwamish on whose lands much of the Seattle area is built.) While there is certainly shared knowledge and traditions, it’s important to recognize that these are independent nations with their own creation stories and traditions. For example, the story of Raven stealing the sun to bring light to earth is a Haida, Tsimshian, and Tlingit legend.2

Attributing them as simply “Native American” stories erases their cultural heritage by treating all Indigenous peoples as a monolith with unified cultural traditions. This is especially pernicious when these stories are told in the past tense, as if the people from whom they originate are gone. Putting in the effort to research where specific stories come from, and how and where that community exists now, is an important step to recognizing and respecting different tribal identities.

For the same reason, another important practice is to research on whose land you currently enjoy the corvids you watch or photograph. 

As Larissa Fasthorse explains, “Always know whose land you’re standing on. Who are the original people of that land? You need to find that out. You need to know those people, and,  where are they? Are they still there? If not, why? Where have they gone? Start to learn, start to educate yourself. Whose land are you profiting from and how can you start to pay that back in your own way.”

Larissa Fasthorse, interview on Here and Now 10/12/20

So the next time you see an interesting legend about corvids, do some research to learn about the actual people behind that story. Beware of sharing memes that make no effort to do that work. That’s generally a sign that they were not written by someone of that cultural heritage and are more interested in gaining likes and shares than honoring other people. Know on whose ancestral land your corvid watching takes place, and seek out print or digital resources to learn about those people. 

While the line between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation can be fine, a willingness to seek out knowledge beyond what caught your initial attention is the best way to ensure you’re not engaging in cultural cherry picking. There are several great resources to starting doing this including Whose Land, which is an Indigenous-led project. You can also find more local resources that may serve you better, including the websites of individual tribes.

#3 Buy books and artwork directly from Indigenous sellers

Be it from Navajo, Tlingit, or Haida origins, Indigenous depictions of corvids are unequivocally beautiful. It’s only natural that corvid lovers might wish to enjoy such artistry in jewelry, paintings, sculptures, or books. As long as it’s not in the pursuit of a costume or other forms of identity theft, purchasing and displaying Indigenous art is encouraged, especially when you can use it to draw more attention to the artist. Sadly though, the number of Indigenous creators are far out-numbered by non-Native people looking to profit off their culture. 

For example, the Alaska Department of Commerce and Development estimates that 75-80% of what is branded as Native art, was not actually made by Alaska Natives, resulting in the redirection of millions of dollars away from Alaska Native communities.3  So before swiping that credit card, make sure that the creator of that piece has the cultural heritage to claim ownership of it. As the Indigenous led Eighth Generation collective puts it, make sure it was created by “inspired Natives” and was not “Native-inspired.” Don’t be afraid to ask shop owners or gallery curators this question directly. That’s not only an easy way to find out, but it signals to that purveyor that sourcing directly from Indigenous creators is something their customers require. Buying directly from Indigenous artists is an even better option. 

Here are a few Indigenous creators and collectives and a slideshow of their products: 
Eighth Generation
I-Hos Gallery
B. Yellowtail
Warren Steven Scott
The Shortridge Collection
Seaalaska Heritage Library

As always when buying from artists, expect the price to reflect that the piece supports a livelihood and don’t attempt to barter. The goal shouldn’t be to simply obtain a beautiful object, but to celebrate and support the person who took great care to craft a sharable piece of their identity. 

Reconciling the ongoing pain caused by centuries of brutality, land theft, and cultural erasure will not be an easy process. It’s uncomfortable, for example, to realize that while your intent was simply to love on corvids, something you’ve done or said is being called out as anti-Indigenous. But it’s essential that we are willing to engage with that discomfort because it’s through that process that we learn and initiate positive change. Inviting Indigenous voices into your spaces is the most important way to start or continue that effort. Please look for the following individuals who are but a drop in the list of fantastic people you can find. And if you appreciated this article, please consider making a donation to one of the individuals or organizations listed below.

Twitter
Vincent Schilling (@vinceschilling)
Delores Schilling (@DelSchilling)
Jesse Wente (@jessewente)
Mari Kurisato (@wordglass)
Katherine Crocker (@cricketcrocker)
Chief Lady Bird (@chiefladybird)
Daniel Heath Justice (@justicedanielh)
Jay Odjick (@JayOdjick)
Kat Milligan-Myhre (@Napaaqtuk)
Alethea Arnaquq Baril‏ (@Alethea_Aggiuq)
Ruth Hopkins (@Ruth_HHopkins)
Nick Estes (@nickestes)
Kim Tallbear (@KimTallbear)
Kyle White (@kylepowyswhyte)
Ō’m”kaistaaw”kaa•kii (@mariahgladstone)
Indigenous folks in STEM
Plus everyone on this list

Instagram
Indigenous Rising (@indigenousrising)
Corinne Rice (@misscorinne86)
Ryan Young (@Indigenousvengeance)
Indigenous Women Who Hike (@Indigenouswomenhike)
Calina Lawrence (@calinalawrence)
Adrienne Keen (@nativeapprops)
Winona LaDuke (@winonaladuke)
Indian Country Today (@indiancountrytoday)
Tanaya Winder (@Tanayawinder)
Sarain Fox (@sarainfox)
Decolonize Myself (@decolonizemyself)

Organizations/Resources
Reclaim Indigenous Arts
Native Women in the Arts
Coalition to Stop Violence Against Native Women
Native American Heritage Association
Kituwah Preservation and Education Program
American Indian College Fund
Indigenous Environmental Network
Two-Spirit Resource Directory
Cultural Survival

Many thanks to Liz Landefeld, David Craig, and Vince Schilling for leaving their fingerprints on this article.

Literature cited
1 Cultural Appropriation (2020). In Oxford Online Dictionary https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/us/definition/english/cultural-appropriation?q=cultural+appropriation

2 Williams, Maria. How Raven Stole the Sun (Tales of the People). Abbeville Press, 11/20/2000

3 Howell-Zimmer J. 12/2000. Intellectual Property Protection For Alaska Native Arts. Cultural Survival Quarterly Magazine. https://www.culturalsurvival.org/publications/cultural-survival-quarterly/intellectual-property-protection-alaska-native-arts

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Filed under Anti-racism, Birding, Corvid mythology, Crows and humans, Wildlife

Bill overhang in corvids

I hardly notice it when I’m in the field because the bird is either too far or too fussy for me to examine the finer details of its beak, but looking at pictures like this I can’t help but notice that little extra bit of bill that sweeps over this raven’s bottom mandible like an awning. It leaves me wondering, what is this overhang for? A why is it more noticeable on some individuals than others?

When we think of birds with curved upper mandibles we are most primed to think of raptors, which have the most conspicuously curved overbite of any group of birds. This shape give them the tearing power they need to breakdown and consume their prey. But upon closer inspection we can see that actually most birds, even some hummingbirds, have a slight* overbite known as maxillary overhang. Among corvids, common ravens have one of the most noticeable overhangs, though they can be quite visible in crows as well. Unlike raptors though, for most other birds this overbite has less to do with food consumption and more to do with hygiene.1

While they can be good at hiding it under those sleek feathers, wild birds are constantly contending with a suite of exterior parasites like gnats, feather lice, and mites. The presence of these parasites, and the speed at which they can cause real harm if left unchecked, is part of the reason birds dedicate so much time and energy into preening. To remove and kill these pinhead sized parasites, birds carefully comb through their feathers, individually plucking up offenders with their bill tip. Even a small (1-2mm) overhang has been show to provide a significant advantage to birds by providing a backdrop against which the lower mandible can pin and damage parasites. Without such an overhang, parasite loads can be as much as 4x higher. By contrast, the overhang doesn’t seem to play any measurable role in foraging success or efficiency.1

Given the largely carrion based diet of common ravens, it’s possible their more visible overhang provides some advantage when it comes to digging into a carcass. Since it hasn’t been tested, however, I can only guess that if some feeding advantage does exist here, it’s slight. This is supported by looking at other carrion specialized corvids, which don’t seem to show a particular bias in longer overhangs relative to their omnivorous or seed eating corvid cousins, and the fact that even within common ravens overhang length is variable.

This common raven doesn’t have a particularly big overhang

To an extent, the longer the overhang the more effective it can be. As anyone who has tried to maintain naturally long nails can attest though, long keratin based appendages are prone to damage and breakage. Bill tips are no different, which explains why there can be so much variation between and within species. The overhang is playing an evolutionary balancing act to arrive at the length that is the most effective and the least vulnerable to damage. That means that not only will some species have shorter or longer overhangs, but individuals within species may, at any point, exhibit more or less obvious tips as due to recent damage. As a result of this variability, I don’t recommend looking to the level of bill overhang as a diagnostic tool for identifying ravens. While it’s certainly useful for crushing bugs, you can’t bank on it being useful for winning that next round of #CrowOrNo.

•••

* Some corvids have more than simply a slight overbite. Unusually long or misshapen bill tips can be the result of a viral infection called avian keratin disorder. Check here to learn more about AKD in crows.

Literature cited

  1. Clayton DH, Moyer BR, Bush SE, Jones TG, Gardiner DW, Rhodes BB, and Goller F. 2005. Adaptive significance of avain beak morphology for ectoparasite control. Proc. R. Soc. B 272: 811-817

11 Comments

Filed under Corvid health, Crow curiosities, Diversity, Ravens