A Digital Smoke Signal....
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by Mari V/PNN Indigenous Peoples Media Project "I hope I get another opportunity to do this again with you guys. Cuz all of you are great." There I was writing thank you notes to the sponsors of Boys and Girls Club of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe's Native Hip-Hop Workshop. I finished one note, and then opened another to write one to Cassandra Yazzie. Then Robert Ortiz from the tribal newspaper, the Southern Ute Drum came into my office and told me he needed to talk to me about Cassandra Yazzie. I first met Cassandra at my homie Klee Benally's wedding. I asked if I could sit at their table. Little did I know that even though I was on the Navajo Nation, that whole table was around from where I live. I noticed her kids, and her husband Jason Hotchkiss told me all about their organization Four Rivers Institute. It was all about teaching Native American youth about the outdoors and getting job experience. I thought it was a much needed program here in this tribal community. A week or two went by and I thought about Cassandra again. I was planning this media workshop called Native Hip-Hop Workshop and was looking for a photographer. We had music and writing covered, but just needed photo. I talked to Jason again, and he thought it was a great idea. He then gave me Cassandra's number and I gave her a call to ask her to be a photographer for a project I was organizing media classes that I called Native Hip-Hop Workshop. She told me that was a great idea, but that film was better for the youth. I remember her contacting me by chatting or calling and her wanting to do a film workshop with the youth, and then I remember telling her I couldn't fund-raise anymore money for a third presenter. I remember how shocked I was by her answer, "Don't worry Mari, I'm local. I just want to start doing film workshops with youth. Don't fund-raise for me." Cassandra and I started to form a organizing friendship centered around the youth in the Southern Ute Tribal Community.
I believe Cassandra's spirit knew she had to do a Native Hip-Hop Workshop before she left this world. She had this determination about doing the film even when I was still thinking about photography. It was her first workshop for youth, and she was so excited. She stated, "Like Mari said, um I'm here with Four Rivers Institute as part of their media connection. This was just a little something I wanted to do, and it was my first time connecting a workshop with some young people. I am very fortunate to be here with all these good people, but I wanted to say thank you to everyone of you who participated in the workshops and to the ones that allowed myself and my little film makers, my lil' peeps to interview you because I know it takes alot of courage to step up and say I'll be interviewed." I remember when she met me and Ras (music presenter) at the casino, she had the biggest smile on her face while networking about the film. Cassandra's selfless spirit was felt by the kids in her film class. I remember how she was a person of her word, and how she kept her promises to the youth. Many times we forget about what we tell our youth, and don't hold ourselves accountable. I remember her emailing me to talk to one of her students because she promised him a clip of the video, and since he couldn't get the video yet, she asked me to talk to him. Her students shared her passion of film, and it showed in their creative media art and investigative journalism. So there I was at my desk, about to write her a letter, and Robert Ortiz walked in my office. He asked me if I knew what happened to Cassandra. I thought he was going to tell me the film tapes from Native Hip-Hop Workshop were destroyed or maybe that she got the cold or flu. He told me she got in a car crash, and died right away. Three of her and her partner's five kids were in the car. Tears started to drop from my face, and I couldn't believe she was gone. I mean I just talked to her yesterday morning, and we were supposed to meet that morning to go over the film at her house. She told me how she needed to go on a hike on the Animas trail and that she would come to Boys and Girls Club that afternoon so we could look over the film. She never showed up, because she left to the spirit world. Currently, those three children are recovering in the hospital. I still shed tears about Cassandra. The next day, one of her students asked, "Mari, is Cassandra dead or alive? Just tell me." Her students are proud of the film-making process they created, and Cassandra committed to a ongoing relationship to teaching film at our Southern Ute Boys and Girls Club. She was going to teach claymation, and have the kids tell thier stories through that art form. Amada Hotckiss, one of their children and participant in the film class stated, "What I liked about the film is when we all got together and we said what we liked to do. I like to do art, and I hope we can do this workshop again." Amada gave me one of the toughest interviews I have ever seen. She is currently in the hospital healing from her injuries. Many people believe that kids are are not capable of creating media much less getting published. Cassandra held the vision that Native Hip-Hop Workshop should have young peoples as media producers and recognized them as her 'lil peeps', which in the hip-hop world means a very close friend. Cassandra wanted to be a part of creating a world where kids were using film as indigenized storytelling. "As I went through each of these (film) clips I got to see and feel alot of your stories come alive and it was really, really good to see and I got to know each of you in a way, in a more personal way because of your words, because of your music. It was really beautiful to see and I hope I get another opportunity to do this again with you guys. Cuz all of you are great" stated Cassandra Yazzie. It is in this spirit of Native Hip Hop Workshop, I am sending
Rest In Power Cassandra Yazzie. You will always live through Native Hp-Hop Workshop. |