During a ceremony honoring the new partnership between the Cortes Community Forest Co-operative and the Klahoose First Nation, I was invited to join with native women and a spiritual leader of the community, Ken Hanuse, to drum and sing their woman’s warrior song. The sensation of drumming in that circle, after making drums here on Cortes for 2o years, was profound beyond the telling. And I learned some significant lessons about honoring drums.
After our circle completed the songs that opened the gathering, Ken drummed a welcoming song using a drum of mine made many years ago in a workshop, and then given to the band by the maker because she was not using it. Afterwards, when I noticed how warped the frame was—with cracks and tears in the hide—I offered to make Ken a new drum. “Oh no,” he smiled, “This drum has character now.” As a drum maker, I have always been alarmed and self-critical when a drum frame warps, a sure sign that I have not done a good job balancing the tension between the frame and the skin. It never occurred to me that this would be sign of maturity for the drum, of its being old and well used enough to have character. Ken played this drum hard and loud, and it seemed to literally shout for joy during the songs he performed.
I also wanted to replace, with something more ‘special’, the drum sticks we were using—cotton wadding fastened to a stick with tuck tape—until I used one while participating in the native drum circle and discovered their excellent bounce and balance. Being able to use whatever materials are available, without elaborate construction or expense, is a lesson we in the dominant white culture need to learn in so many ways.
