‘íin wées niimíipuu (I am The People/ I am Nez Perce)
By Kellen Trenal
Contextual details:
The Wallowa Band of nimiipuu were forcibly removed by the United States federal government from their ancestral lands near Wallowa Lake in the Wallowa Valley of northeastern Oregon onto a significantly reduced reservation in the Idaho Territory. To maintain their freedom, many different niimiipuu made a 1200-mile flight, seeking asylum in Canada, suffering many battles and casualties along the way.
Fort Fizzle was a temporary military barricade erected by the U.S. Army and civilians in July 1877. Its purpose was to intercept the Nez Perce in their flight to freedom from north central Idaho over the Lolo Pass into the Bitterroot Valley of western Montana. The name describes the effectiveness of the fort as the niimiipuu were able to distract the soldiers at the fort with a diversion so that the women and children could double back and get past the barricade without confrontation.
Shortly before daybreak on August 9, 1877, the U.S. Army and settler volunteers attacked a sleeping village of Nez Perce people on their flight to freedom. The order was to shoot low in the tents, thus affecting fatal strikes on the unsuspecting families, deep in their slumber.
The word mástay means “cheek” or “face” in Nez Perce Language.
The word míne means “where” in Nez Perce Language.
All other translations are given in English next to their Nez Perce counterpart.
‘íin wées niimíipuu
‘íim wées isíi? Who?
Are you?
N-N-I-N-G through my veins is a mighty legacy
rolled through tragedy
ripped from the Lake
a sea of Beings fleeing, freeing themselves with superior strategy.
I watch your Fort Fizzle.
Flip and double back, I ask again, ‘isíi wées?
Tell me what you claim?
We’ve seen game arranged. A brutal campaign that remains the same.
A lame attempt to tame the true me
contain my inner beauty
feign to do me
the “favor” of replacing the source from whence I came, as if it’s your duty.
And still I know my name. The flame flows through me.
The frustration pains me
explain the
way there’s more to gain when we
attain an understanding
sane and non-demanding
stay in your lane. Stop commanding.
Yet the inane stories you maintain, playin’ rodeo cowboy, clutching tightly the horse’s mane.
You seek the fame free of blame.
Speak not of how you maim innocence
aim low in the tents
A true image never placed in their frame.
Pleas!
A moment of silence.
‘íin wées niimíipuu
‘íim wées isíi? Who?
Are you?
looking for resolution?
You won’t find it here.
wéetu híiwes kíne.
You can find it where, míne?
Try looking in the treaties and treatises
that taught you to treat me and treat us as if we are nothing.
Relics of the past.
Passed and now a goner.
A past you do not honor.
American history: passing on her lies
though “flailing” in her eyes,
she’s failing to realize
we’re sailing to brighter skies.
Running through the clouds.
Running through our veins.
Running down my cheek, the tear ponders, “mástay ask you again?”
You, are who?
‘íin wées niimíipuu.
Kellen Trenal (he/him) is a multi-disciplinary artist, performer, small business owner, and University of Notre Dame alumnus, born and raised in the Pacific Northwest. As a member of the Nez Perce Tribe a gay man of Black American descent, Kellen embraces his multiple identities to empower his work in all its manifestations.