The Arise Podcast

Season 6, Episode 11: Jenny McGrath, Renee Begay, and Rebecca W. Walston on Resilience and Die De Los Metros

Episode Summary

"The word resilience, saying Dia de Los Muertos, that's self-determination, something you practice to keep it going, to remember all those things. I was thinking through resilience feels like this vacillation between different levels, levels of the individual in relation to the community, how much do we participate in self discovery, self-determination, all those things, but then also connect it to community. How do we continue to do that as a community to stay resilient or keep practicing what we've been taught? But then also generationally too, I think that every generation has to figure out based on their experience in this modern world, what to do with the information and the knowledge that is given to us, and then how to kind of encourage the next generation too." --Renee Begay

Episode Notes

Guest Bio: Renee Kylestewa Begay is from the Pueblo of Zuni in Southwest New Mexico. She is a mother to three daughters and married to high school sweetheart Donnie Begay. During her undergrad, she founded the Nations movement—a national ministry...

Good morning. It's October 30th, 2025. Can you believe it? So I'm releasing these videos. Today's videos on resilience. Four distinct cultures coming at you. Jenny McGrath. Me, Danielle, my friend Renee Begay from New Mexico and Rebecca Wheeler, Walston. Tune in, listen to the distinctly different places we're coming from and how we're each thinking about resilience. And then find a way that that impacts you and your own community and you can create more resilience, more generosity, more connection to one another. It's what we need in this moment. Oh, and this is The Arise Podcast, and it's online. If you want to download, listen to it. There you can as well.

 

 

 

Renee Begay (00:14):

Okay, cool. Okay, so for those watching my introduction, I'll do it in my language. So my name is Renee Bega. I just spoke in my language, which is I'm from the Pueblo of Zuni tribe in Southwest New Mexico, and I shared the way that we relate to one another. So you share the clan system that you're from. So being a matrilineal society, we belong to our, there's lineage and then we are a child of our father's side of the family. And so I belong to the Sandhill Crane clan as my mom is my grandma. And then my daughters are Sandhill Crane, and then I'm a child of the Eagle Clan, which is my dad's side. So if I do introduce myself in Zuni and I say these clans, then people know, oh, okay, you're from this family, or I'm, or if I meet others that are probably Child of Crane, then I know that I have responsibility toward them. We figure out responsibility toward each other in the community and stuff, who's related to all those things. Yeah. And here in New Mexico, there are 19 Pueblo tribes, two to three Apache tribes, and then one Navajo nation tribe. So there's a large population of indigenous tribes here in New Mexico. So grateful and glad to be here.

(02:22):

Yeah. I guess I can answer your question about what comes to mind with just the word resilience, but even you saying a d Los Muertos, for me that was like, oh, that's self-determination, something that you practice to keep it going, to remember all those things. And then when you mentioned the family, Jenny, I was like, I think I did watch it and I looked on my phone to go look for it, and I was like, oh yeah, I remember watching that. I have a really short-term memory with books or things that I watch. I don't remember exactly details, but I know how I felt. And I know when I was watching that show, I was just like, whoa, this is crazy.

(03:12):

So yes, I remember watching that docuseries. And then I think Rebecca, when you're talking about, I was thinking through resilience feels like this vacillation between different levels, levels of the individual in relation to the community, how much do we participate in self discovery, self-determination, all those things, but then also connect it to community. How do we continue to do that as a community to stay resilient or keep practicing what we've been taught? But then also generationally too, I think that every generation has to figure out based on their experience in this modern world, what to do with the information and the knowledge that is given to us, and then how to kind of encourage the next generation too. So I was just thinking of all those scenes when I was listening to you guys.

Rebecca (04:25):

Yeah, when you said the generational thing that each generation has to decide what to do with the information given to them. This past weekend in the last week or so was that second New Kings march, and there's some conversation about the fact that it was overwhelmingly white and in my community that conversation has been, we weren't there. And what does that mean, right? Or the noticing that typically in this country when there are protests around human rights, typically there's a pretty solid black contingency that's part of that conversation. And so I just have been aware internally the conversation has been, we're not coming to this one. We're tired. And when I say I say black women specifically in some instances, the larger black community, we are tired.

(05:28):

We are tapping out after what happened in the last election. And I have a lot of ambivalence about that tapping out. I'm not sure how I feel about it, but it does make me think about what you said that in this moment my community is taking the information given to them and making a conscious choice to do something different than what we have done historically. So that's what I thought about when you were mentioning the generational sort of space that's there. What do we do with that and what does that mean about what we pass to the next generation?

Danielle (06:09):

Through this moment. So I think it's interesting to say, I think Rebecca said something about does your resilience, what does it feel grounded in or does it feel solid? I can't remember exactly how she put it. And yeah, she's frozen a bit on my screen, so I'll check in with her when she gets back. And I would say I felt like this week when I was thinking about my ancestors, I felt in having conversations in my family of origin around race and assimilation, just that there was this in-between generation. And I mean like you mentioned the voting, you saw it in our voting block, the Latino voting block pretty clearly represented.

(07:09):

There was this hard push for assimilation, really hard push and the in-between. And I feel like my generation is saying that didn't work. And so we know the stories of our ancestors, but how did we interpret those stories to mean many of us, I would say in our community to mean that we don't fight for justice? How did we reinterpret those stories to mean the best course was silence or forgetting why people migrated. The reason for migration was not because there was a hate for our land. That's very clear to me. The reason for migration was what we see now happening with Venezuela. It was ongoing oppression of our people through the, well, in my case, through the Mexican government and collaboration with the United States government that exacerbated poverty and hunger, which then led to migration. So do we forget that? It seems like we did. And in some, I wondered to myself, well, how did a guy like Cesar Chavez or I, how did they not forget that? How did they remember that? So I think resilience for me is thinking Los was like, who were my ancestors remembering why they moved and remembering what this moment is asking me to do. Is it asking me to move somewhere and maybe physically move or mentally move or I don't know what the movement means, but it's some kind of movement. So that's kind of what I think

Renee (09:07):

I'm seeing the importance of, even just in this conversation, kind of the idea of the trans narrative across all communities, the importance of storytelling amongst each other, sharing stories with each other of these things. Like even just hearing you Danielle of origins of reasons for migration or things like that, I'm sure very relatable. And we have migration stories too, even within indigenous on this continent and everything. So I think even just the importance of storytelling amongst each other to be able to remember together what these things are. I think even just when we had the opportunity to go to Montgomery and go to the Rosa Parks Museum, it, you hear the macro story of what happened, but when you actually walk through the museum and read every exhibition, every paragraph, you start learning the micro stuff of the story there. Maybe it wasn't everyone was a hundred percent, there was still this wrestling within the community of what to do, how to do it, trying to figure out the best way to do good amongst each other, to do right by each other and stuff like that. So I just think about the importance of that too. I think Danielle, when you mentioned resilience, a lot of times it doesn't feel good to practice resilience.

(11:06):

For me, there's a lot of confusion. What do I do? How do I do this? Well, a lot of consultation with my elders, and then every elder has a different, well, we did this, and then you go to the next elder, oh, well we did this. And so one of my friends said three people in the room and you get four ideas and all these things. So it's just like a lot of times it doesn't feel good, but then the practice of it, of just like, okay, how do we live in a good way with each other, with ourselves, with what faith you have, the spiritual beliefs that you hold all those, and with the land, all that stuff, it's just, yeah, it's difficult to practice resilience.

Rebecca (12:03):

I think that that's a good point. This idea, the reminder that it doesn't always feel good. When you said it, it's like, well, duh. But then you sit for a minute and you go like, holy crap, it doesn't feel good. And so that means I have to be mindful of the ways in which I want to step away from it, take a step back from it, and not actually enter that resilience. And it makes me think about, in order to kind of be resilient, there has to be this moment of lament or grief for the fact that something has happened, some type of wounding or injury or threat or danger that is forcing you to be resilient is requiring that of you. And that's a moment I always want to bypass. Who has time to, no, I don't have time to grieve. I got stuff I got to do, right?

(13:06):

I need to make it to the next moment. I need to finish my task. I need to keep it together. Whatever the things are. There are a thousand reasons for which I don't want to have that moment, even if I can't have it in the moment, but I need to circle back to it. Once the chaos sort of settles a little bit, it's very difficult to actually step into that space, at least for me personally, probably somewhat out of the cultural wider narratives that I inhabit. There's not a lot of invitation to grief element or if I'm very skilled at sidestepping that invitation. So for me, that's what comes to mind when I think about it doesn't feel good. And part of what doesn't feel good for me is that what there is to grieve, what there is to process there to lament. Who wants to do that?

(14:10):

I think I told you guys outside of the recording that my son had a very scary car incident this week, and several people have asked me in the last 48 hours, are you how? Somebody said to me, how is your mother heart? Nothing in me wants to answer that question. Not yesterday, not today. I'm almost to the point, the next person that asked me that, I might smack you because I don't have time to talk about that. Ask me about my kid. Then we maybe could ask me about myself and I would deflect to my kid really fast.

Jenny (14:59):

I'm thinking about, for me, resilience feels so connected to resistance. And as you were sharing stories of migration, I was thinking about my great great grandparents who migrated from Poland to the States. And a few years ago we went to Poland and did an ancestry trip and we went to a World War II museum. I really traced World War I through World War ii, but it really actually felt like a museum to resistance and seeing resistance in every tier of society from people who were Nazis soldiers smuggling out letters that were written in urine to people making papers for people to be able to get out.

(16:05):

And I found myself clinging to those stories right now as ice continues to disappear people every day and trying to stay situated in where and how can I resist and where and how can I trust that there are other people resisting even if I don't know how they are, and where can I lean into the relationships and the connections that are fostering collective resistance? And that's how I'm finding it as I am sitting with the reality of how similar what we are experiencing in the US is to early days of Nazi Germany and how can I learn from the resistance that has already taken place in former atrocities that are now being implemented by the country that I live in.

Rebecca (17:41):

That makes me think, Jenny of a couple of things. One, it's hard to breathe through this that we are perilously close to Nazi Germany. That feels like there's not a lot of vocabulary that I have for that. But it also makes me think of something that Renee said about going to the Rosa Parks Museum in Montgomery, and stepping really close to the details of that story, because I don't know if you remember this, Renee, but there's one exhibit that talks about this white law firm that was the money behind the Montgomery bus boycott and was the legal underpinning behind that. And I don't think I knew until I went to that museum and saw that it's like one picture on one poster in the middle of this big exhibit. And I don't think I knew that. I know a lot of things about Rosa Parks and the Montgomery Busboy.

(18:53):

I've taught them to my kids. We know about her and the bus and all of that, but the details and to know that there was this group of white people in 1950 something that stepped forward to be resistant in that moment. And it's like, gosh, I didn't know that. And it makes me, Jenny have the question, how many more times has that happened in history? And we don't actually have that information. And so the only larger narrative that I have access to is how white people were the oppressors and the aggressors in that. And that's true. I'm not trying to take anything away from that. But also there was this remnant of people who said, not me, not my house, not my family, not today, not tomorrow, not at any time in my lifetime. Am I going to be on the wrong side of history on this conversation? And I think that that's probably true in many places and spaces that we don't have access to the detail of the stories of resistance and alliance that is there across people groups, and we don't have that information.

Jenny (20:21):

It makes me think of something that's front of mind just because we were in Detroit last week as we talk about Rosa Parks, she lived the end of her days in Detroit in a home that the CEO of Little Caesar's spot for her,

Wow. Where it's like one, it's tragic to me that such a heroine had had to need some financial assistance from some white CEO, and that was what that CEO decided to use his money towards is really beautiful for me. And you can go to her house in Detroit. It's just a house now. But it is, it's like how many of these stories we know that actually are probably for good reason if they're happening right now, because it's not always safe to resist. And we were just having breakfast with a friend today talking about, and or what a brilliant show it is and how resistance probably needs to be underground in a lot of ways in this current moment.

Danielle (21:54):

Do you know the animal for Los Martos, Renee? Maybe it, it's the Libre. It's the spirit animals from Mexican folklore, and they come out and they have to, traditionally they represent three of the four elements like air, water, earth, and fire. And so they put them on the altars and they're like spiritual protectors or whatever. And they highlighted during this time, and I don't know if any of y'all have seen some of the videos of, there's a couple videos where there's a couple of these more racist folks trying to chase after a person of color, and they just trip and they fall out their face on the pavement and talking with a couple of friends, some Mexican friends, they're like, oh, Libre has got that. They just bam flat, just the idea that the earth tripped them up or something. I love that. Something in the spirit wall brought them to their knees. So yesterday I took Luis is like, what are you doing? I made him go get me all this spray paint. And I put these wood panels together and partly we had at home and I was using his wood. He's like, don't paint all of it, but I was painting this panel of this que and I'm going to put it in downtown, and it's not something I'm doing and I'm thwarting the government. But it did feel resilient to paint it or to think about the spirit world tripping up these guys. It gave me some joy

Rebecca (23:42):

But I actually think, and I've talked to you about this a little bit, Danielle, I think what I love about that is that there's something in the collective story of Mexican people that you can borrow from, that you can pull from to find this moment of resilience, of resistance, of joy, of relief release. And I think we need to do more of that. So often when we step into our collective narratives, it's at the pain points, it is at the wounding points. And I think that I love that there's something of something that you can borrow that is a moment of strength out of our collective narrative. I think that that's actually how you grow resilience. I think it is how you learn to recognize it is you borrow from this collective narrative, this moment of strength so that you can bring it with you in this moment. I think that that's who Rosa Parks has been in my community to me in my family, I think I've told you guys this before, but I have a daughter who's now in college, but when she was in elementary school, we had a whole thing for a semester with a bus driver that just had it out for black and brown kids on her bus route to the point that all the white kids in our little suburban neighborhood were like, what the heck is wrong with a bus driver coming after all the brown people?

(25:13):

And I remember actually borrowing from the story of Rosa Parks to say to my daughter, this is how we're going to handle this. What does it look like for you with dignity, but really firmly say, you cannot mistreat me. You will not mistreat me on this bus route. And so to me, the story, what you're telling Danielle, is that same sort of, let me borrow from this folklore, from this narrative, something to give to myself, to my family, to my people in this moment. I love that. I'm going to borrow it. I'm going to steal it. So send me a picture of the painting.

Renee (26:03):

Yeah. Have you guys talked about, I guess expressions or epigenetics, I guess with resilience with epigenetics, when we do experience hardship, there's a certain way of taking that hardship in and either it alters our expression or our reaction, our behavior and how we carry that through across generations. But I was thinking of that word even with Jenny when you were talking about resilience to you, you remember it maybe probably in your body as resistance because of your great grandparents. My question was, or even just with D Los MTOs, the spirits that help that are kind of like protectors, did you guys sense that as information first or did you feel it first kind like that there's this feeling inside, you can't really quite pinpoint it, but you feel it as a practice and then when you do get that information, you're like, ah, that's what it was. Or is it the other way? I need information first. And then you're like, okay, it confirms this. I dunno. I don't know if that's a clear question, but I was just kind of curious about that. Even with the Rosa Parks, this is how we're going to do it, this is how we remember it, that was successful in its ways. Yeah.

Jenny (27:54):

I think for me personally, the more stories I learn, the more of me makes sense. And the same great grandparents were farmers and from where they lived to the port sold vegetables along the way to pay for their travels. And then when they got to the port, sold their wagon to pay for their ship tickets and then just arrived in the states with practically nothing. And there's so much of a determined hope in that, that I have felt in myself that is willing to just go, I don't know where this is going to lead to, but I'm going to do it. And then when I hear these stories, I'm like, oh yeah, and it's cool to be with my husband as I'm hearing these family stories, and he'll just look at me like, oh, that sounds familiar.

Danielle (29:07):

I think there's a lot of humor in our family's resistance that I've discovered. So it's not surprising. I felt giddy watching the videos, not just because I enjoyed seeing them fall, but it did feel like the earth was just catching their foot. When I used to run in basketball in college, sometimes people would say, oh, I tripped on the lines. The lines of the basketball court grabbed them and just fell down. And I think for a moment, I don't know, in my faith, like God or the earth has its own way of saying, I'm not today. I've had enough today and you need to stop. And so that's one way. I don't know. I feel it in my body first. Yeah. What about you? Okay.

Renee (30:00):

Yeah, humor, definitely A lot of one elder that I knew just with crack jokes all the time, but had the most painful story, I think, of boarding school and stuff. And then we had the younger generation kind of just ask him questions, but one of the questions for him to him was, you joke a lot, how did you become so funny? And then he was just like, well, I got to do this, or else I'll like, I'll cry. So there's just the tragic behind it. But then also, yeah, humor really does carry us. I was thinking about that one guy that was heckling the lady that was saying free Palestine, and then he tripped. He tripped backwards. And you're like, oh.

(31:00):

So just those, I think those captures of those mini stories that we're watching, you're like, okay, that's pretty funny. But I think for us in not speaking for all indigenous, but even just within my community, there's a lot of humor for just answering to some of the things that are just too, it's out of our realm to even just, it's so unbelievable. We don't even know what to do with this pain, but we can find the humor in it and laugh about the absurdity of what's happening and And I think even just our cultural practices, a lot of times my husband Donnie and I talk about just living. I don't necessarily like to say that I live in two worlds. I am part of both. I am. We are very present in both of just this westernized society perspective, but we do see stark differences when we're within our indigenous perspective, our worldview, all those things that it's just very like, whoa, this is really different.

(32:27):

There's such a huge contrast. We don't know if it's a tangent line that never crosses, but then there are moments where when communities cross that there is this possibility that there's an understanding amongst each other and stuff. But I think even just with our cultural practice, the timeline of things that are happening in current news, it's so crazy. But then you look to, if you turn your head and you look toward the indigenous communities, they're fully into their cultural practices right now, like harvest dances and ceremonies and all those things. And it's just kind of like, okay, that's got grounding us right now. We're continuing on as it feels like the side is burning. So it's just this huge contrast that we're constantly trying to hold together, living in the modern world and in our cultural traditions, we're constantly looking at both and we're like, okay, how do we live and integrate the two?

(33:41):

But I think even just those cultural practices, seeing my girls dance, seeing them wear their traditional clothing, seeing them learning their language, that just my heart swells, gives me hope that we're continuing on even when it feels like things are falling and coming apart and all those things. But yeah, real quick story. Last week we had our school feast day. So the kids get to kind of showcase their culture, they wear their traditional clothes, and kids are from all different tribes, so everybody dresses differently. We had a family that was dancing their Aztec dances and Pueblo tribes in their Pueblo regalia, Navajo students wearing their Navajo traditional clothes and all those things. So all these different tribes, everyone's showcasing, not just showcasing, but presenting their cultural things that they've been learning. And at the very end, my daughter, her moccasin fell off and we were like, oh, no, what's happening? But thankfully it was the end of the day. So we were like, okay. So I took apart her leggings and then took off her moccasin and stuff. Then so we started walking back to the car, and then my other daughter, her moccasin leggings were unwrapping.

(35:17):

We were laughing, just walking all the way because everyone, their leggings were coming apart too as they were walking to their car. And everyone's just laughing all like, okay, it's the end of the day. It's okay. We're falling apart here, but it's all right. But it was just good to kind of have that day to just be reminded of who we are, that we remain, we're still here, we're still thriving, and all those things.

Rebecca (35:56):

Yeah, I think the epigenetics question is interesting for the story arc that belongs to black American people because of the severing of those bloodlines in the transatlantic slave trade. And you may have gotten on the ship as different tribes and different peoples, and by the time you arrive on US soil, what was many has merged into one in response to the trauma that is the trans glamorous slave trade. So that question always throws me for a loop a little bit, because I never really know where to go with the epigenetics piece. And it also makes me understand how it is that Rosa Parks is not my ancestor, at least not that I know of. And yet she is my ancestor because the way that I've been taught out of my Black American experience to understand ancestry is if you look like me in any way, shape or form, if there's any thread, if there is a drop of African blood in, you count as an ancestor.

(37:13):

And that means I get permission to borrow from Rosa Parks. She was in my bloodline, and I teach that to my kids. She's an elder that you need to respect that. You need to learn all of those things. And so I don't usually think about it until I'm around another culture that doesn't feel permission to do that. And then I want to go, how do you not catch that? This, in my mind, it all collapses. And so I want to say to you, Renee, okay, every native person, but when I hear you talk, it is very clear that for you ancestry means that tracing through the clans and the lines that you can identify from your mother and your father. So again, not just naming and noticing the distinction and the differences about how we even understand the word ancestor from whatever our story arcs are, to listen to Jenny talk about, okay, great grandfather, and to know that you can only go so far in black life before you hit a white slave owner and you lose any connection to bloodline. In terms of the records, I have a friend who describes it as I look into my lineage, black, black, white, nothing. And the owner and the listing there is under his property, not his bloodline. So just noticing and naming the expansiveness that needs to be there, at least for me to enter my ancestry.

Rebecca (38:56):

Yeah, that's a good, so the question would be how do generations confront disruption in their lineage? How do you confront disruption? And what do you work with when there is that disruption? And how does, even with Rosa Parks, any drop of African-American blood, that's my auntie, that's my uncle. How do I adopt the knowledge and the practices and traditions that have kept us going? Whereas being here where there's very distinct tribes that are very different from one another, there's a way in which we know how to relate through our lineage. But then also across pan-Indian that there's this very familiar practice of respect of one another's traditions, knowing where those boundaries are, even though I am Zuni and if I do visit another tribe, there's a way that I know how to conduct myself and respect so that I'm honoring them and not trying to center myself because it's not the time. So just the appropriateness of relationships and stuff like that. So yeah, that's pretty cool conversation.

Danielle (40:40):

It was talking from a fisherman from Puerto Vallarta who'd lived there his whole life, and he was talking, he was like, wink, wink. People are moving here and they're taking all the fish. And we were like, wait, is it Americans? Is it Canadians? He is like, well, and it was people from other states in Mexico that were kind of forced migration within Mexico that had moved to the coast. And he's like, they're forgetting when we go out and fish, we don't take the little fish. We put 'em back and we have to put 'em back because if we don't put 'em back, then we won't have fish next year. And he actually told us that he had had conversations. This is how close the world seems with people up in Washington state about how tribal members in Washington state on the coast had restored coastline and fish populations. And I thought, that is so cool. And so his whole thing was, we got to take care of our environment. I'm not radical. He kept telling us, I'm not radical in Spanish. I want my kid to be able to fish. We have so much demand for tourism that I'm worried we're going to run out, so we have to make this. How do we make it sustainable? I don't know. It just came to mind as how stories intersect and how people see the value of the land and how we are much more connected, like you said, Renee, because of even the times we can connect with people across thousands of miles,

(42:25):

It was really beautiful to hear him talk about how much he loved these little fish. He's like, they're little and they squirm around and you're not supposed to eat. He is like, they need to go back. They need to have their life, and when it's ready, then we'll eat them. And he said that in Spanish, it sounded different, but sounded way better. Yeah. Yeah. In Spanish, it was like emotional. It was connected. The words were like, there's a word in Spanish in Gancho is like a hook, but it also can mean you're deceived. And he is like, we can't deceive ourselves. He used that word. We can't deceive ourselves that the fish will be here next year. We can't hook. And with the play on words, because you use hook to catch fish, right?

That's like a play on words to think about how do we preserve for the next generation? And it felt really hopeful to hear his story because we're living in an environment in our government that's high consumer oriented, no matter who's in charge. And his slowing down and thinking about the baby fish, just like you said, Renee is still dancing. We're still fishing, felt good.

Renee (43:59):

I remember just even going to Juno, Alaska for celebration when all the Alaskan tribes make that journey by canoe to Juneau. And even that, I was just so amazed that all the elders were on the side on the shore, and the people in the canoe did this whole ceremony of asking for permission to come on the land. And I was like, dang, even within, they're on their own land. They can do what they want, but yet they honor and respect the land and the elders to ask for permission first to get out, to step out. So it's just like, man, there's this really cool practice of reciprocity even that I am learning. I was taught that day. I was like, man, that's pretty cool. Where are those places that will help me be a good human being in practicing reciprocity, in relationship with others and with the land? Where do I do that? And of course, I remember those things like, okay, you don't take more than you need. You always are mindful of others. That's kind of the teachings that come from my tribe, constantly being mindful of others, mindful of what you're saying, mindful of the way you treat others, all those things against. So yeah. So I think even just this conversation crossing stories and everything, it's generative. It reminds us of all these ways that we are practicing resilience.

(45:38):

I was going to tell you, Danielle, about humor in resilience, maybe a little humble bragging, but Randy Woodley and Edith were here last week, and Donnie and I got to hang out with them. And I was telling them about this Facebook group called, it's like a Pueblo Southwest group. And people started noticing that there were these really intimate questions being asked on the page. And then people started realizing that it's ai, it's like a AI generated questions. So with Facebook, it's kind of maybe automatically implemented into, it was already implemented into these groups. And so this ai, it's called, I forget the name, but it will ask really sensitive questions like cultural questions. And people started, why are you asking this question? They thought it was the administrator, but then people were like, oh, they caught on like, oh, this is ai. And then people who kind of knew four steps ahead, what was happening, they were like, don't answer the questions. Some people started answering earnestly these really culturally sensitive questions, but people were like, no, don't answer the questions. Because they're mining for information. They're mining for knowledge from our ways. Don't give it to them.

(47:30):

So now every time this AI robot or whatever asks a question that's very sensitive, they just answer the craziest. That's a good one of them was one of 'em was like, what did you learn during a ceremonial dance? And no one would ask that question to each other. You don't ask that question. So people were like, oh, every time I hear any man of mine, a country song, they just throw out the crazies. And I'm sitting there laughing, just reading. I'm like, good. Oh man, this is us. Have you ever had that feeling of like, this is us. Yes, we caught on. We know what you're doing. This is so good. And then just thinking of all these answers that are being generated and what AI will spit out based off of these answers. And so I was telling Randy about this, and he just like, well, this is just what used to happen when settlers used to first come and interact with indigenous people. Or even the ethnographers would come and mind for information, and they gather all this knowledge from indigenous communities. And then these communities started catching on and would just give them these wild answers. And then these ethnographers would gather up this information and then take it to the school, and the teachers would teach this information. So maybe that's why the school system has some crazy out there information about indigenous peoples. But that's probably part of what's happened here. But I just thought that was so funny. I was like, oh, I love us.

Rebecca (49:19):

Yeah, that's going to show up in some fourth graders history report or social studies report something about, right. And I can't wait to see that. Yeah, that's a good idea. So good. That feels like resistance and resilience, Renee.

Renee (49:40):

Yeah. Yeah. Humorous resistance. It just, yeah. So one of the questions is, have you ever harvested traditional pueblo crops?

(49:52):

And then some puts, my plastic plants have lasted generations with traditional care.

So unserious just very, yeah, it's just so funny. So anytime I want to laugh, I go to, oh, what did this ai, what's this AI question for today? Yeah. People have the funniest, funniest answers. It gives

Yeah, yeah. Jenny's comment about it kind of has to go underground. Yeah. What's underneath the surface?

Danielle (50:36):

I have to pause this, but I'd love to have you back. Rebecca knows I'm invited every week. May invited. I have a client coming. But it is been a joy.