What Does Native American Heritage Month Mean to Me?

Most of you that I've been connected with over the course of my sixteen years on LinkedIn have recognized the uptick in my content that surrounds Native and Indigenous voices these past couple of years, and some of you have used this as a conversation starter with me, so thank you. I wanted to take a few minutes to share a little about my heritage and why I am so passionate about my allyship with Native Americans. To do so, though, we need to take a journey to the past and I'll tell you a little of my family history. Trigger warning, though. Some of this could be uncomfortable, as I can't tell the story of my ancestors, without telling the story of kidnapping and slavery in the American Southwest that is often glamourized and told differently in our history books.

I am the granddaughter of the late Francisco Leyba, of Taos, New Mexico, a decorated WWII Veteran and Carmen Cordova, of Rio Arriba, New Mexico and then later Del Norte, Colorado. Both grandparents are descendants from Genizaros , a community of Indigenous people that were of mixed tribal origins that were assimilated into a life of slavery and servitude in New Mexico households through various means, such as captures in war, kidnapping, trade fairs, punishment for crimes, adoption, abandonment and the sale of children. When my great-grandfather passed away in 1918 from the Spanish Influenza, my grandfather was only 2. At the age of 6, he was sent into the mountains of the Taos region to herd sheep, alone, and provide an income for his family. He never went back to secular education. Perhaps this was a blessing, though, as given he was the provider for his family at the age of 6, he was allowed exemption from being required to attend Boarding School where so many of his friends were sent, and some that never returned. Here, though, in the mountains he said he would learn his greatest life lessons and the best education he could ever ask for. He carried a small guitar with him, and here with his livestock guardian dogs and sheep he would sing the songs his mother taught him, that her Apache mother, who was forced into a life of servitude through kidnapping, taught her. He learned to survive in the wilderness, alone, navigating the stars, foraging for food and developing a deep relationship with his higher-self, and with the Creator through prayer. Here, is where Fransico learned botany, and what native plants were medicine, which were sources of food and which were poisonous. My grandfather was deeply proud of his Indigenous roots, and often would share with me in our talks in the garden, how important it was to keep our heritage alive and that we did so with our connection to Nature and the creator. That it didn't matter we weren't Native enough to be federally recognize because of the Colonial belief of blood quantum. We were Native and despite every effort to eliminate our people, we were still here and we should be proud of the resilience of our ancestors. These teachings shaped me to my core, and these memories with my grandfather are something I will deeply cherish for all time.

My grandmother, Carmen, was the granddaughter of Salvador Vigil, who first appears in baptism and adoption papers at the age of 6 as "INDIO" - or Indian, in 1868. From our research, it appears that a few of the Hispanic soldiers that served in Kit Carson's Unit (1st NM Vol.) settled in Carnero Creek in the La Garita area after the war. This unit was comprised of Ute scouts who scouted for Col. Albert Pfiefer. A lot of these men fought at the battle of Valverde, however, some were ordered to participate in the Navajo/Mescalero Apache Long Walk to the Bosque Redondo. It's there that we believe some of those soldiers "adopted" these children, of which Salvador was one of them. My grandmother was always less secure about her Native heritage as my grandfather. When I would talk about being Native with pride, she would aways scold me and tell me not to tell anyone. She would encourage me to tell people I was white. I am mixed, after all, and my father is of Irish/Swedish descent. As a young girl, I was so confused by this ask to deny who I was. I was proud of my entire heritage, and especially so with my Native heritage because of the deep connection I felt to nature, and to animals and because I spent the majority of my childhood with my grandparents, particularly with my grandfather and his love of plants and animals - a bond we shared deeply. I didn't understand why my grandmother was so ashamed. I now know as an adult and understand that those insecurities were fueled by generations of racism and trauma, along with a system of class. By denying her Native roots, she was able to avoid some of the backlash that was inevitable in a racist society.

It's taken me and my family a long time to unravel the complicated story of our family and ancestors and come to accept that due to the colonized system of Blood Quantum we will most likely never receive federal tribal recognition. We celebrate, though, that the state of New Mexico did indeed acknowledge my community of ancestors as Indigenous in 2018. I celebrate my Native heritage, and even though it comes with pain, it comes with a great amount of pride and gratitude. I have come to realize that to be a descendant of Genizaros, and the community I have found with others like me, means resilience. We are a courageous and strong people who've found community in being the outcasts and because of our mixed origins, we weren't accepted by any system of class, and thus, we made our own community. Bringing together a blend of our tribal beliefs and our deep connection with the creator and nature. We survived, against all odds. We are still here. I was the first in my family to graduate from University, and I am a successful business woman - deeply respectful for my knowledge and experience in the Technology sector. I have a seat at the table and I am my ancestors greatest dream, I celebrate this and give start my day with gratitude for their sacrifice and the fact that against all odds - I am, WE - Native Americans - are still here.

So as we celebrate Native American heritage month, we celebrate all of those who came before us and recognize and honor the memories of the painful past that comes with it. Remembering too, Native Americans couldn’t be U.S. citizens in the land that their ancestors lived in for thousands of years and when the United States ratified its Constitution in 1788 we wouldn’t win the right to become a citizen for another 136 years. Unbelievable, right? When African Americans won citizenship with the 14th Amendment in 1868, the US government intentionally interpreted the law so it didn’t apply to Native people . It wasn't until 1965, during the historic Voting Rights Act, where many discriminatory practices that denied U.S. citizens the ability to vote based on their race, were finally outlawed. And thanks to subsequent legislation in 1970, 1975, and 1982, Native voting protections were further strengthened. But, the fight is not done. Similar to the War against women with the overturn of Roe vs Wade, so too it seems the war against Natives continues. The Voting Rights Act is continuously weakened by Supreme Court rulings these last few years and this could impact these voting protections and will likely affect minority voters — like Native Americans — the most.

So as we celebrate our Native American heritage this month, please remember that the fight for equality continues in 2024. We must continue to amplify our Native and Indigenous brothers and sister's voices. Be an ally and speak their names in rooms they are not present. Invite them to have a seat at the table. There are many important topics like the importance of expanding Native American representation in the financial and business sector.

If you are interested in learning more on the Ethnogenesis In New Mexico and the Genizaro community, PBS did an incredible documentary that sheds light on this Indigenous community of New Mexico.