I'm Melina Palmer of the Eagle Clan

In August 1887, approximately 826 Tsimshian people boarded canoes in Old Metlakatla, B.C. and undertook an arduous journey to found New Metlakatla, Alaska. My great, great grandfather David Leask was 3 years old when the family took the trip. Ninety-eight years later, I was born in the native hospital in Anchorage.

While I grew up "down south" (how my cousins referred to Seattle) I loved going to spend much of my summer vacation with my grandma in Ketchikan. My sister and I would take a float plane to Metlakatla (thanks Uncle Jerry!) to visit our family who lived on the reservation for a few days each year.

I've always been proud to be Alaska Native, and consider Southeast Alaska my home.

Hard Truths

In September 2014, my grandmother's health took a turn, so my mom, sister and I took the trip from Seattle to give hugs and celebrate one more birthday with her.

While on that trip, I found this eagle totem (whom I affectionately named Bert after my grandma). Bert has been with me in my office every day since.

After my grandma died, I have come to learn a lot about her past and that of my extended family that I didn't know before.

For example, that the movie theaters, hospitals and other public places were segregated while she was growing up. My grandma and her siblings were regularly faced with stores whose signs read, "No Dogs and No Natives Allowed." They weren't allowed to own land before Alaska's Anti-Discrimination Act was passed in 1945.

My grandma never told me any of this. I didn't know to ask. I wish I had and am doing what I can to learn more about my native history and share our culture with my son, Hudson -- our Baby Eagle. ?? We bought him these books on a recent trip to Ketchikan with the family. (I don't speak Sm'algyax, but am so glad to have learned that they have started teaching it in some of the schools in Ketchikan and Metlakatla. I've also found some videos on YouTube that might help me learn a few phrases.)

In case you're thinking, "That's great Melina, but why are you telling me this?"

The main reason is because of Dolly Chugh .

I recently met Dolly through an introduction by Katy Milkman (thanks Katy!) as a potential guest for The Brainy Business podcast.

A More Just Future

Dolly's book opens with a memory of proudly reading Little House on the Prairie to her daughters, and then visiting the land where the story took place and wondering, "Whose land was this before the Ingalls family?"

In the moment, she repressed the thought (Why spoil the moment?) but it led to years of research into U.S. (and global) history to help understand the past and its impact on the future. The result is her amazing book, A More Just Future: Psychological Tools for Reckoning With Our Past and Driving Social Change.

A More Just Future is hard to read. Not because of flow or writing style -- those are both amazing. In that way, it is a very easy read. Dolly shares herself and her story in a very vulnerable way from page 1 and it is incredibly refreshing and helps the reader to feel safe to reflect and share their own fears or memories with themselves or others.

It is hard to read because the content is hard to hear. It goes against the stories we have told ourselves for generations. It takes our biases and shines a light on them that is hard to ignore. It gives us permission to embrace the paradoxes of our lives -- to know that two opposing things can both be true. That we can love our country, but not agree with everything in its past and present.

If we don't see the past for what it is...how can we build the more just future that everyone deserves?

Reading about the genocide of Native Americans was particularly painful for me, as I'm sure you can imagine given what I've shared in this post already. While I am proud of my heritage and speak about it openly, it isn't something I have talked about much publicly (if you want to understand the complexity behind why, I would be happy to share sometime, just ask.)

In light of the heaviness of the topic, I considered canceling the interview. Of claiming that it wasn't really about "business" and that this isn't the type of conversation we have on the show.

Instead, I took Dolly's lead in vulnerability and moved forward. I even opened up about my family story in our conversation (and here now), with her kind support. It has been cathartic, and I know it is just the start of my journey. I hope it will inspire others to both read this book, and to uncover their own family stories (and take the time to learn those of others, ideally people who are different from you). [LISTEN TO THE EPISODE.]

The Past Isn't That Far Away

While everything in this book is important, the thing that resonated with me the most is that the past isn't as far away as we think. Our brains do funny things when we reflect on the past. The future feels much closer than the past does, even if the "distance" is the same.

The atrocities of our past are not as far as we like to think they are. And while they are painful to learn about, it is important to take it on so we can create a more just future for everyone.

If my grandma (or Meema, as we called her) were still with us, I would ask so many questions. I would listen openly and give her the space to share in a way that felt safe, so I might learn the good and the bad of her life. This holiday season, is there someone you can learn from? Who has a story you haven't heard yet? What new question could you ask to learn a little more about yesterday, in an effort to create a better tomorrow? What might you uncover about your family's history before it is lost to the ages?

Ndm al?dyuk?niidzn (Until we meet again)

Thank you again to Dolly Chugh for writing her wonderful book and sharing it with the world. Thank you to Katy Milkman for making this introduction -- you couldn't have known how impactful it would be on my life, but I will never forget it. Thank you to you for reading this far. It is scary to share our stories. To be open and vulnerable. I don't know why I feel terrified to press "Publish" on this post...but it feels very raw. So, if this did resonate with you in any way, I would love to hear about it and connect.

Last week, I learned that the Tsimshian and Tlingit languages don't have a word for "goodbye" instead, we say "Until we meet again." So, Ndm al?dyuk?niidzn, my friends. Thank you for listening.