blogMatheus Zago2021-01-11T20:56:07+01:00

Following the maracá and engendering “deotherization” in decolonial collaborative research

by Juliana Porsani, Bartira Fortes, Márcia Camargo, and Tamikuã Pataxó.

Reviewed by Matheus Lucas Hebling

It is impossible to capture, in written form, the sonours experience of the maracá, a sacred Indigenous percussion instrument, resonating throughout the Jaqueira Reserve in Brazil. Among other important moments, it is played during the AWÊ ritual (Campos Neves, 2010), accompanied by a chorus of alternating male and female voices in Patxohã – the Pataxó recovered language (Bomfim, 2017). Bare feet step strong on the ground, as the circle of bodies moves. The maracá is played frenetically and we, outsiders (tourists, researchers, “others”), are invited to join. We don’t know the lyrics, but we follow the maracá rhythm forming a single organic whole. For a moment, the AWÊ seems to have suspended pervasive social rifts that Brazilians are well familiar with. But after brief minutes, the sound of the maracá ceases, and the AWÊ ends.
I, the lead author of this text, am an early career, female, researcher with great interest in collaborating with Pataxó people involved in Indigenous tourism. The Pataxó Jaqueira Reserve is one of the pioneers Indigenous tourism initiatives in Brazil (Neves, 2021). My first trip to the Jaqueira Reserve was postponed one year due to the Covid-19 pandemic, which allowed me enough time to read and reflect upon my own positionality as a member of the settler community seeking to research with Indigenous peoples (Absolon & Willett, 2005; Becker, 1967; Kovach, 2010; Kwaymullina, 2016; Wilson, 2008). I was determined to centre their voices throughout the research process – co-creating the research with them instead of conducting research on them (Battiste, 2000; Held, 2019; Smith, 2021; Thambinathan & Kinsella, 2021; Walsh, 2023; Zavala, 2013). Prior to my arrival in January 2022, I established virtual communication with Pataxó individuals, including leaders in the Jaqueira Reserve, introduced myself and shared preliminary ideas.
Despite our previously exchanged messages, and our coming together in the AWÊ, my presence was met with scepticism and in various occasions I heard sentences such as “many like you came and left, and we don’t know a line of what they wrote”. Clearly, I occupied the place of the oppressor, white, settler, and inadvertently also of the privileged. But that was not all, I also occupied the place of the academic accomplice of colonial oppression. Science is not simply a means of world-discovery, but a practice of world-making, and mainstream Western science has a robust historical record of demeriting alternative ontologies, objectifying racialized bodies, and consequently asphyxiating “otherwise” ways of seeing, knowing, and acting (Césaire, 1972; Held, 2019). Consequently, and understandably, as explained by Smith in her seminal book (2021: 1), “research” has become “one of the dirtiest words in the Indigenous world’s vocabulary. When mentioned in many Indigenous contexts, it stirs up silence, it conjures up bad memories, it raises a smile that is knowing and distrustful”.
Given my combined settler and scholarly background, in several moments, the rift between the groups we embodied seemed uncrossable, and my collaborative intention, naïve. However, I would experience, the diametrically opposed positions historically inherited by us did not preclude our personal agencies. Furthermore, although indigeneity is fundamental in the strive against colonial oppression, positionalities are underpinned by additional, multiple, and intersectional experiences and identities (Hancock, 2007). As reminded by Harding (1992), agents of knowledge are not unitary or homogenous. Hence, although I descend from settlers and I make a livelihood from academic work, I am also a woman that was born and raised in relatively simple economic conditions; I have been a migrant under the care of a single mother in Brazil; and I am now also the mother of three small children. Oppression from combined economic and patriarchal structures is something I have regularly confronted and condemned. These experiences are imbricated in my combined personal/academic orientation, leading it in directions that fundamentally challenge Western patriarchy, capitalism’s insatiable appetite for profit and accumulation, along with its social and environmental injustices (Fraser, 2022; Moje, 2000; Walsh, 2023).
If I were to accept the obvious position of the “other” non-Indigenous academic, the rift between us would remain profound. As such, it would be difficult not to replicate the type of science that decolonial scholars and Indigenous peoples themselves denounce – i.e., science that detaches and distances subjects from objects, assigning primacy to the former’s presumed neutral perspective (Harding, 1992). In fact, the strive towards neutral and objective knowledge has been denounced as constituent of the Western, white, masculine desire to subjugate nature, women, and racialized bodies (Litfin, 1997). If I were to stand a chance of not replicating coloniality in my work, I knew that I had to set myself apart from academics that objectified, and consequently dehumanized Indigenous groups – I had to come closer to them and strive to “deotherize” myself.
“Deotherizing”, I came to understand, involves a dialogical process of coming together, and both listening and speaking. The AWÊ brought us together momentarily though daily. During it, I practiced following their Indigenous lead and rhythm, reverberated by the maracá. Outside the AWÊ, I listened attentively to all they were willing to share, not only about their tourism-related endeavors, but even more importantly, their views and everyday experiences. And, in every opportunity, I shared of myself, of my own everyday experiences and views (Absolon & Willett, 2005; Cahill, 2007).

Juliana Porsani. The AWÊ ritual in the Jaqueira Reserve (photo taken Jan. 17, 2021).

The AWÊ, orchestrated by the maracá was a daily reminder of the rightful owner of the space that I sought to enter. Little by little, intersections and communalities among us became apparent. The words “decolonial”, “justice”, and “environmental care” crosscut our vocabularies as we shared indignation as Brazilian citizens frustrated with the political scenario, as parents worried about the future and well-being of our children, as mothers struggling to conciliate “productive” and “reproductive” work, as humans concerned with escalating environmental and climate change.
Interestingly, this “deotherizing” process that is so important for proximity between “subjects” and “objects” – or for the deconstruction of these categories in the making of decolonial research – gets very little attention in the formal “methods” section of scientific papers. But “deotherizing” is a critical and complex process that may only begin when the recorder is turned off, when the sides are brought together under relaxed conditions, when conversations are informal, spontaneous, and taking unplanned directions. Through reciprocal dialogue, we can exchange experiences and views – and “may” start crossing the rift that originally set us apart, between subject and object, between opposites in each other’s eyes.
May is emphasized above because the process has no guarantees. First, “deotherizing” requires acknowledging that researchers (the presumably subjects of knowledge) are visible, embodied, socially located, and thus not “fundamentally different from objects of knowledge” (Harding, 1992: 452). Accordingly, it requires profound self-reflection about who we are as individuals, and what we stand for (Absolon & Willett, 2005). Second, following self-reflection and self-awareness, “deotherizing” relies upon the existence of communalities and intersections in experiences and views between the presumably different sides. In the current Brazilian context, it follows for example that supporters of extractivist industries that drive Indigenous territorial dispossession, supporters of proposed policies such as the “temporal milestone” (Libois & Silva, 2012), or adherents of meritocracy discourses that disregard structural inequalities, do not stand a chance of being “deotherized” through reciprocal dialogue with Indigenous groups. Such a realization has implications for the possibility of ethical cooperation between scholars that do not personally sympathize with the core causes defended by Indigenous groups, and the latter. Last, and relatedly, “deotherizing” requires that academics re-centre their transdisciplinary collaborative endeavours on previously marginalized Indigenous voices, respecting and following their tempo and agendas. Coming together in the AWÊ and following the maracá rhythm are valuable reminders of this latter condition.
I don’t seek to claim that this “deotherization” process is complete or fully realized in our research. Rather, my intention has been to reassert the possibility and potential of collaborative efforsts between individuals of diverse Indigenous backgrounds and academics of, not only, settler backrounds. The process, I have argued, relies on self-reflection, dialogue, the existence of intersections in experiences and views, an approach to science that deconstructs subjects and objects, and the prominence of Indigenous voices. When a researcher of any background is called “guerreiro/a” (“warrior” in Portuguese) by an Indigenous person, this may be an indication that in the latter’s eyes, there is a shared common battle. “Deotherization” is essential for the decolonization of knowledge within and beyond academia (Battiste 2001; Held 2019; Thambinathan & Kinsella, 2021; Walsh, 2023), and for the creation of alliances against persistent colonial oppression that imperils marginalized groups and cultures while posing an escalating threat to human and non-human life on a planetary scale.
Acknowledgements
I would like to express my deepest gratitude to the Pataxó people in the Jaqueira Reserve for welcoming me into their everyday lives, sharing their histories and perspectives, and contributing to expounding to the world their noteworthy endeavor within Indigenous tourism. My warmest thanks specially to Cacique Syratã Pataxó, Aspectur’s president Juari Braz Bomfim, the talented artist Oiti Pataxó, and the founders of the Jaqueira Reserve: sisters Nitynawã, Nayara, and Jandaya, and their families.

References
Absolon, K. & Wille, C. 2005. Putting ourselves forward: location in aboriginal research. In: Brown L. & Strega S. (eds.). Research as resistance: critical, indigenous, and anti-oppressive approaches. Edited by Leslie Brown and Susan Strega. Canadian Scholars’ Press/Women’s Press, Toronto, pp. 97-126.
Battiste M. A. 2000. Reclaiming indigenous voice and vision. UBC Press, Vancouver.
Becker, H. 1967. Whose side are we on? Social Problems, 14(3): 234-247.
Bomfim, A. B. 2017. Patxohã: a retomada da língua do povo Pataxó. Revista LinguíStica, 13(1): 303-327.
Cahill, C. 2007. The personal is political: developing new subjectivities through participatory action research. Gender, Place & Culture, 14(3), 267-292.
Campos Neves, S. 2010. Eficácia ritual e eficácia turística: o ritual do AWÊ entre os Pataxós Meridionais e o turismo. CULTUR, Revista de Cultura e Turismo, 4(2): 92-103.
Césaire, A. 1972. Discourse on colonialism. New York: Monthly Review Press.
Fraser, N. 2022. Cannibal Capitalism: How Our System Is Devouring Democracy, Care and the Planet – And What We Can Do About It. London and New York: Verso.
Hancock, A. M. 2007. When multiplication doesn’t equal quick addition: Examining intersectionality as a research paradigm. Perspectives on Politics, 5(1): 63-79.
Harding, S. 1992. Rethinking standpoint epistemology: what is “strong objectivity”? The Centennial Review, 36(3): 437-470.
Held M. B. E. 2019. Decolonizing research paradigms in the context of settler colonialism: An unsettling, mutual, and collaborative effort. International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 18.
Kwaymullina, A. (2016). Research, ethics and Indigenous peoples: An Australian Indigenous perspective on three threshold considerations for respectful engagement. AlterNative: An International Journal of Indigenous Peoples, 12(4), 437-449.
Kovach, M. 2010. Indigenous Methodologies. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.
Libois, R. D. & Silva, R. J. 2021. Marco temporal, Supremo Tribunal Federal e direitos dos povos indígenas: um retrocesso anunciado. PerCursos, 22(48): 399-429.
Litfin, K. T. 1997. The gendered eye in the sky: A feminist perspective on earth observation satellites. Frontiers: A Journal of Women Studies, 18(2), 26-47.
Moje, E. B. 2000. Changing our minds, changing our bodies: Power as embodied in research relations. Qualitative Studies in Education, 13(1): 15-42.
Neves, S. C. 2021. Reflexões sobre o turismo de base comunitária e os povos indígenas à luz do caso Pataxó. Revista Turismo Em Análise, 32(2), 413-430.
Smith, L. T. 2021. Decolonizing methodologies: research and Indigenous peoples (3rd. ed.). London: Zed Books.
Thambinathan, V., & Kinsella, E. A. 2021. Decolonizing Methodologies in Qualitative Research: Creating Spaces for Transformative Praxis. International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 20.
Walsh, C. E. 2023. Rising up, living on. Re-existences, sowings, and decolonial Cracks. Durham and London: Duke University press.
Wilson, S. 2008. Research is Ceremony: Indigenous Research Methods. Fernwood Publishing, Halifax and Winnipeg.
Zavala, M. 2013. What do we mean by decolonizing research strategies? Lessons from decolonizing, indigenous research projects in New Zealand and Latin America. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society, 2(1): 55-71.

 

 

 

* Juliana Porsani is an assistant professor at Tema M (Environmental Change), Linköping University, Sweden. She has a doctoral degree in Environmental Science from Södertörn University (Sweden), a Master degree in Geography from Stockholm University (Sweden), and a Bachelor’s degree in International Relations from São Paulo State University (Unesp, Brazil). Her research interests revolve around rural and gendered livelihoods, with particular attention to land/territorial rights of smallholders and Indigenous groups. In her work, she strives to embrace anti-oppressive methodologies and to merge research and praxis.

Juliana Porsani, Bartira Fortes, Marcia Camargo and Tamikuã Pataxó (2023) "Following the maracá and engendering “deotherization” in decolonial collaborative research". Brazilian Research and Studies Blog. ISSN 2701-4924. Editor's ChoicenameISSN 2701-4924nameVol. 4 Num. 3. available at: https://bras-center.com/following-the-maraca-and-engendering-deotherization-in-decolonial-collaborative-research/, accessed on: March 27, 2024.

Maracá in Resistance: Amplifying the Voices of Indigenous Women in the III Indigenous Women’s March

by Bartira S. Fortes*, Juliana Porsani, Marcia Camargo, Tamikuã Pataxó, Erilsa Braz Dos Santos, and Iãkupa Apurinã

Reviewed by Matheus Lucas Hebling

In the heart of Brasília, the capital of Brazil, the III Indigenous Women’s March took place from 11 to 13 September 2023. Organized by The National Articulation of Ancestral Warriors Women (ANMIGA) and the Biome Women of Brazil, the III March was centered around the theme “Ecosystem Women in Defense of Biodiversity through Ancestral Roots” (in Portuguese, “Mulheres Biomas em Defesa da Biodiversidade pelas Raízes Ancestrais”), setting the stage for vital discussions and advocacy for Indigenous rights (ANMIGA, 2023a). Women representing each of Brazil’s six biomes gathered to address local and global challenges, engage in political dialogues, and assert the fundamental role of Indigenous women in preserving biodiversity. Throughout an intensive three-day program, encompassing plenary sessions, debates, and working groups, the march addressed pressing environmental issues and gender-based inequalities, spanning critical areas such as responses to climate emergencies and the combating of violence against Indigenous women. In this article, I explore my observations during the III March, with a particular focus on the maracá. This sacred instrument emerged as a powerful symbol of unity, ancestral heritage, and resistance, as Sonia Guajajara eloquently conveyed in the Chamber of Deputies during a Special Session dedicated to the III March.

Today, we stand here, although the journey was arduous. We encountered numerous challenges, but we have entered these spaces with unwavering strength. We are deeply interconnected and work with remarkable coordination, striving to instigate societal and institutional changes. We aim to show the diversity of Indigenous women, and this is what Brazil must grasp and embrace: the inclusion of our maracás in the public sphere and positions of power! (@guajajarasonia, 2023, author’s translation)

During this session, over 500 Indigenous women actively participated in another historic moment when Congresswoman Célia Xakriabá submitted a Bill to Combat Violence Against Indigenous Women (Projeto de Lei PL 4381/2023). The maracá, serving as a powerful tool to amplify the voices of Indigenous women, played a pivotal role in these developments as its resonating sounds filled the entire building. This monumental event had a dual purpose: to empower Indigenous women in politics and ensure their active participation in decision-making processes and influential roles, and to instigate essential dialogues for the formulation of public policies that address the specific needs of Indigenous people.
Indigenous women have already achieved notable strides in politics, with 17 candidacies for federal and state deputy positions supported in 2022 through the formation of the “Bancada do Cocar” (Feathered Headdress Lobby) – a symbolic reference to Indigenous headdress. The victories of Sonia Guajajara and Célia Xakriabá, representing Indigenous women in the Ministry of Indigenous Peoples and the Chamber of Deputies, marked these achievements. Moreover, the III March took place under a changed political landscape, with Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva as Brazil’s President, enjoying significant support from Indigenous people. In his inaugural address, President Lula framed Brazil’s environmental commitments and Indigenous rights as the foundation for the country’s global standing and the restoration of democratic ideals (Planalto, 2023). However, the struggle to confront the enduring consequences of centuries of colonization is far from over, and the III March has demonstrated the leading role of Indigenous women in this battle.
On September 13, beneath the radiant, sunlit skies and accompanied by the enchanting melodies of maracá and sacred songs, a resounding symphony emerged. Approximately 8,000 Indigenous women, encompassing the six Brazilian biomes and international Indigenous groups, gathered in Brasília to march together from the National Arts Foundation (Funarte) to the Bandeiras’ Square (Praça das Bandeiras). The maracá served as a vibrational force that resonated along with the footsteps of thousands of women. As they marched, the melodious and rhythmic sounds of the maracá synchronized their steps, underscoring their shared commitment to Indigenous resistance, environmental protection, and gender equality. The march stood as a testament to Indigenous women’s unity, empowerment, and resilience. These women were not just participants but assertive agents of change, raising their voices in harmony with the rhythmic beat of the maracá to demand Indigenous rights. Their resounding message was a firm “No” to the Temporal Milestone (Marco Temporal), decisively opposing legislative proposals that limit and threaten Indigenous territorial rights. Top of Form
The Temporal Milestone proposal asserts that Indigenous peoples can only have their land demarcated if they can provide evidence of their physical presence on the land on the precise date of the Constitution’s promulgation on October 5, 1988 (Lisbois & Silva, 2012; Leal de Oliveira, Ruy Bragatto, Montenegro de Souza Lima, 2023). This requirement imposes the challenging burden of proof on Indigenous communities, one that is oftentimes impossible to meet. Many instances exist where Indigenous people were dispossessed of their lands both before and after the Constitution’s promulgation, due to violent conflicts and historical injustices. However, land demarcation stands as a cornerstone for Indigenous people, offering essential legal recognition and safeguarding of their ancestral land. Its significance surpasses mere land rights, as it’s intricately linked to their cultural rights and the protection of the environment with its diverse ecosystems.
To combat the deeply entrenched consequences of colonization, which include structural and intersectional marginalization and oppression, and pave the way for Indigenous women’s participation in political spheres, a profound and transformative shift in epistemic-ontological perspectives is essential (Bartira, Porsani & Lalander, 2023). This realization is in line with Sonia Guajajara’s imperative for “reforesting minds” (Guajajara, 2022), and Célia Xakriabá’s claim to “womanize” politics (Mondardo & Nascimento, 2023, p. 5). These combined views highlight the necessity of sowing the seeds of Indigenous knowledge, reestablishing connections with ancestral roots, and revitalizing the cultural and spiritual heritage that has sustained Indigenous people for generations. This shift is echoed in the appointment of Indigenous women to positions of power, signifying a departure toward decolonial political alternatives.

Kauet (@kauetcore)

During the III March, the discussions extended beyond the challenges faced by Indigenous people. Empowered women from diverse backgrounds came together to discuss solutions to commonly experienced problems by sharing experiences, strategies, and innovative approaches. Their concerns and demands were also voiced in the III March’s final document (ANMIGA, 2023b). They emphasized the vital importance of reforesting minds with ancestral values and connecting with their roots. Accordingly, these Indigenous women advocated for the inseparable link between biodiversity and land demarcation, stressing that without protected lands, basic rights such as education, culture, and health are jeopardized. They highlighted the urgent need to address climate change and gender-based violence about the well-being of future generations through improved health services and education. Additionally, international and national panels addressed issues related to water rights and ancestral traditions, and Indigenous women explored ways to strengthen their political engagement, including their participation and support in future elections. Finally, an informal tribunal shed light on various ongoing violations against Indigenous communities, stressing the government’s responsibility to uphold its constitutional obligations. In it, Indigenous women denounced a range of abuses against their body territories – such as labor exploitation, infringements by mining and agribusiness interests, and various acts of violence against women including sexual assault.
As an active participant in this historic event, I was deeply touched by the immense articulation and potential for transformation through collective action, especially within the context of Indigenous women’s pursuit of their rightful place in society. My experience was a profound emotional journey as I stood amongst this assembly of empowered Indigenous women. Their harmonious and powerful singing, combined with the rhythmic cadence of their songs, infused with the unique soundscapes of each ethnic group, evoked a deep emotional response that resonated within my body. It bestowed upon me a profound sense of unity and shared purpose. The body paintings that adorned these women’s skin, serving as sacred protection, offered a vivid narrative of resilience. Each brushstroke of vibrant urucum and jenipapo pigments provided me with a poignant glimpse into their stories. The maracá, extending beyond its role as a percussion instrument, reverberated as a shared emblem of the enduring strength and ancestral heritage embodied by these ancestral female warriors.
The III Indigenous Women’s March, with the maracá as its unifying force, elevated the voices of Indigenous women to unprecedented levels. It conveyed the urgency of fundamental shifts in epistemic-ontological paradigms, and consequentially of social, cultural, political, and economic changes to concretize Indigenous women’s relentless claim for land demarcation, environmental protection, and gender equality. In the ongoing pursuit of these goals, the maracá emerges as an emblem of unity, resistance, and hope, underscoring the vital importance of Indigenous heritage, the power of collective mobilization, and the leading role of Indigenous women, empowered by sacred instruments, in paving the future into more socially and environmentally just ancestral directions.

References
@guajajarasonia. “Na tarde desta segunda-feira (11), a Câmara dos Deputados realizou uma Sessão Solene em homenagem a III Marcha das Mulheres Indígenas”. Instagram, September 12, 2023, https://www.instagram.com/p/CxEcRU8PAK0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==
Anmiga, 2023a. “For an end to violence against indigenous women, the III Indigenous Women’s March will take to the streets of Brasilia on Wednesday (13/09)”. Anmiga, September 13, 2023, https://anmiga.org/en/for-an-end-to-violence-against-indigenous-women-the-iii-indigenous-womens-march-will-take-to-the-streets-of-brasilia-on-wednesday-13-09/
Anmiga, 2023b. “Documento final”. https://cimi.org.br/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Documento-Final-III-Marcha-das-Mulheres.pdf
Fortes, B. S., Porsani, J., & Lalander, R. Contesting Extractivism through Amazonian Indigenous Artivism: Decolonial reflections on possibilities for crafting a pluriverse from within. Alternautas, 10.1 (2023): 155-190, 2023. DOI: 10.31273/an.v10i1.1300
Planalto. “Discurso do presidente Lula no Parlatório do Palácio do Planalto”. Planalto, 6 January 2023, https://www.gov.br/planalto/pt-br/acompanhe-o-planalto/discursos-e-pronunciamentos/2023/discurso-do-presidente-lula-no-parlatorio-do-palacio-do-planalto.
Guajajara, S. “It’s Time to Indigenize Politics and Reforest Minds”, Sumaúma, September 27, 2022, https://sumauma.com/en/aldear-a-politica-e-reflorestar-mentes/
LEAL DE OLIVEIRA, A., RUY BRAGATTO, J., & MONTENEGRO DE SOUZA LIMA, M. A Inconstitucionalidade do Marco Temporal: Riscos e Ameaças à Tutela dos Povos Indígenas do Brasil. Revista Direitos Sociais E Políticas Públicas, 10.3 (2023): 455-486. DOI: 10.25245/rdspp.v10i3.1349
LIBOIS, R. D., & SILVA, R. J. da. Marco temporal, Supremo Tribunal Federal e Direitos dos Povos Indígenas: Um Retrocesso Anunciado. PerCursos, 22.48 (2021): 399-429. DOI: 10.5965/1984724622482021399.
MONDARDO, M., DO NASCIMENTO, Z. “Povos indígenas, comunidades quilombolas e migrações”. Revista Tocantinense de Geografia, 12.26 (2023): 01–21. DOI: 10.20873/rtg.v12i26.15747.

 

 

* Bartira S. Fortes is a Brazilian performance artist, anthropologist, and Ph.D. candidate in Environmental studies at the Department of Environment, Development, and Sustainability Studies, Södertörn University, Sweden. She investigates Indigenous ethnomedia in Latin America, focusing on how Indigenous people have used media technologies as a tool for mobilization. Her academic background can be found in the conjuncture of Humanities and Social Sciences, intersecting environmental science, global development studies, social anthropology, performing arts, and media. Her research interests include themes of democracy, climate change, Indigenous media and art, Indigenous people’s participation in global politics, socioenvironmental justice, digital activism, artivism, and decolonization.

Bartira Fortes, Marcia Camargo, Juliana Porsani, Tamikuã Pataxó, Erilsa Braz Dos Santos and Iãkupa Apurinã (2023) "Maracá in Resistance: Amplifying the Voices of Indigenous Women in the III Indigenous Women’s March". Brazilian Research and Studies Blog. ISSN 2701-4924. ISSN 2701-4924nameVol. 4 Num. 3. available at: https://bras-center.com/maraca-in-resistance-amplifying-the-voices-of-indigenous-women-in-the-iii-indigenous-womens-march/, accessed on: March 27, 2024.

Maracá around the World: Empowering Indigenous Women through the Power of Ancestry

by Tamikuã Pataxó* and Bartira Silva Fortes** 

Reviewed by Matheus Lucas Hebling

This article documents my transformative journey as Tamikuã Pataxó, an empowered Indigenous woman who crossed oceans to a destination that had previously existed only in my dreams: Sweden. Throughout this odyssey, I carried with me the strength of my maracá, a sacred instrument deeply rooted in the cultural traditions of various Indigenous people. In my view, the maracá represents an ancestral connection that transcends geographical and cultural boundaries, serving as a profound conduit to my heritage and spirituality. This article aims to explore the significance of the maracá as a symbol of empowerment, focusing on my unique encounters during my visit to Sweden from June to August 2023. Additionally, I will discuss how, alongside other warrior women, I have utilized the maracá as a powerful tool to amplify our voices and occupy leadership roles within international forums. This analysis will underscore the maracá’s role as a bridge between ancestry and contemporary Indigenous struggles. Ultimately, I aim to emphasize the maracá’s pivotal importance as a symbol of global Indigenous resistance, all while strengthening my journey towards empowerment, which stands as a living testament to this profound ancestral connection.
My journey to Sweden was far from devoid of challenges, yet I found invaluable support from other warrior women who walked this path alongside me. Carrying my maracá and adorned in protective paint, I conveyed the message of empowerment inspired by the warrior women of our ancestry. Throughout this journey, I experienced the realization of dreams I had scarcely dared to envision. I delved into the history, art, and cuisine of our Sámi relatives and traveled to various regions of the country, immersing myself in its vibrant culture. Gathered around wood stoves within their sacred dwellings, we exchanged knowledge and experiences that reverberated with a resonance reminiscent of my village. This journey made me realize that I had arrived at a place in the world that had hitherto existed only in my dreams, seemingly inaccessible due to limited financial resources and formal invitations. However, the “Projeto Nós no Mundo”, undertaken in partnership with the dedicated researcher Márcia Camargo, opened the doors to this awe-inspiring experience in Sweden and allowed me to establish contact with my Sámi relatives. I learned that the path to our aspirations need not be merely paved with dreams; it necessitates unwavering belief in our capabilities, the nurturing of our spirituality, and the respectful sharing of our culture – a culture symbolized by our maracá – across the globe.
Commencing our journey from Stockholm and proceeding to Uppsala before gradually venturing further north, it is important to remember that the Sámi people inhabit not only the northern regions but also these areas and beyond. On my initial encounter with Sámi relatives, I spotted them from a distance, their blonde hair and blue eyes a striking sight as they anticipated our arrival. It felt as though I was reuniting with long-lost relatives, and the depth of this emotion was so profound that it moved us to tears. This encounter transcended a mere gathering; it evolved into a rich exchange of knowledge, cultures, and experiences related to the struggles we share. We were welcomed by May-Britt Öhman, a pivotal figure whose support and organizational efforts were instrumental in facilitating this exchange with the Sámi relatives. Two main projects formed the foundation of our collaboration: “Sijddaj máhttsat,” which translates to “coming home” in Lule Sámi, funded by the Swedish Research Council Vetenskapsrådet, and “Environmental Justice, Land-Based Learning, and Social Sustainability in Sábme,” funded by the Swedish Research Council FORMAS. Additionally, we actively collaborated on the seminar of the “Indigenous Perspectives on Forest Fires, Drought, and Climate Change: Sápmi” project, spearheaded by Ignacio Acosta, with May-Britt Öhman as a postdoctoral supervisor. We were grateful to have received letters of support from various organizations, including the Ministry of Indigenous People of Brazil, FUNAI (National Indigenous People Foundation), CIMI (Indigenous Missionary Council), the Brazilian Embassy in Stockholm, Chiefs from the southernmost regions of Bahia, and the founding from Australian Embassy for WWW (Water World Week at Stockholm).
With each location we visited, I was struck by the captivating beauty and cultural opulence of Sweden. I found myself in breathtaking places, often grappling with disbelief that I was truly there. The zenith of this extraordinary journey materialized during our visit to Tallberg, where we had the privilege of meeting reindeer herders and forging a connection with these majestic creatures. I savored dishes infused with edible flowers and was captivated by enthralling stories about bears and moose. At each destination, we dedicated several days to the exchange of knowledge, partaking in unique experiences, and absorbing invaluable teachings. Every sunset I witnessed held its unique charm, and each city exuded a distinct atmosphere. The profound experience of immersing myself in a culture so distant from my own proved to be immensely rewarding. My sojourn in Sweden, constituted a profoundly transformative experience, one that ignited a fervor to continue my quest for knowledge about diverse cultures and places.

Kauet (@kauetcore)

I left a part of myself behind in every place, sharing the essence of Pataxó culture, our flavors, and our ongoing struggle. I had the privilege of participating in the panel “Co-creation of Knowledge with Indigenous People of the Global South” at the 7th Nordic Development Research Conference 2023 in Uppsala, which was organized by researchers Bartira Fortes, Juliana Porsani, and Rickard Lalander. During this significant event, we engaged in discussions about research experiences with Indigenous communities, a profoundly meaningful occasion. Alongside Márcia Camargo, I shared valuable insights into our ethnographic decolonial collective research. During the introduction of our presentation, I had the honor of performing an ancestral song, and in collaboration with Marcia, we demonstrated that decolonial research can only occur when it provides a space for every culture to occupy and express their knowledge with mutual respect.
At the Brazilian embassy in Sweden, I had the privilege of singing, sharing the stories of my people, and preparing traditional dishes for Indigenous people from various ethnicities around the world, offering them a unique window into our culture. Participating in the Brazilian Day in Stockholm, invited by Bartira Fortes, I used song and the maracá to convey our struggle on the grand stage in the King’s Garden. As I performed, I proudly bore the message “Não ao Marco Temporal” painted on my back, making a powerful statement about our struggles. I also attended the World Water Week Congress in Stockholm which connected me with people from more than 50 countries, enriching my understanding of global environmental issues and the ongoing struggles faced by Indigenous communities worldwide. Additionally, I had the opportunity to deliver a compelling performance in the city of Uppsala. I entered the event wearing a dress, high heels, and holding a cell phone, but during the presentation, I underwent a transformation that revealed my Indigenous identity. This performance served as a potent declaration, highlighting that, despite my attire and modern accessories, I remain unwaveringly connected to my Indigenous heritage.
Both my maracá and I are deeply grateful for the opportunities that have allowed us to carry our voices and culture to different corners of the world. The maracá, far more than a musical instrument, symbolizes a profound connection to the history and spirituality of Indigenous people. Its sound echoes like an ancestral call, a reminder of our roots, strength, and resilience over centuries. The maracá stands as an emblem of our Indigenous identity and an instrument of empowerment, a symbol of resistance, not only within Indigenous territories in Brazil but worldwide. We, Indigenous women in the struggle, women of ancestry, continuously seek empowerment and assert our presence in these places of power, occupying the seats that rightfully belong to us.
I planted a seed of our culture there, hoping to reap positive outcomes in the future. Unfortunately, there is still a lack of awareness regarding our ongoing struggle and the incredible diversity within Indigenous communities. When addressing Indigenous issues on the international stage, we encounter a limitation, as many tend to associate Brazilian Indigenous people exclusively with the Amazon region. It becomes our responsibility to show that Indigenous people are present in all corners of Brazil, emphasizing that Brazil is, indeed, an Indigenous territory.
Today, we can confidently declare that doors have been opened. In Brazil, we have an Indigenous minister, Indigenous deputies, and Indigenous women contributing to fields like medicine and within the FUNAI (National Indigenous People Foundation), occupying significant roles within the political landscape. We, as empowered Indigenous women, can advocate for our rightful places in discussions and positions of power. Unlike in the past, we now possess these opportunities, and we stand at the forefront of our struggle. Our journey will persist, reaching greater heights as we amplify our voices and share our culture with the world. Throughout this journey, we shall remain deeply rooted in our origin, our ancestry, and our mission, which is to protect Mother Nature and uphold the rights and recognition of Indigenous people.

* Tamikuã Pataxó is a passionate Indigenous rights activist from Aldeia Barra Velha, living in an urban context. She has actively supported ANMIGA (The National Articulation of Indigenous Women Ancestry Warriors), participated in Indigenous women’s marches, and played a crucial role in advocating for the vaccination of Indigenous people in urban areas against COVID-19. Tamikuã is known for her active engagement in ATL, free land camps, and women’s marches. She has also shared her knowledge through exhibitions, lectures, and workshops in schools and universities from 2017 till today.

** Bartira S. Fortes is a Brazilian performance artist, anthropologist, and Ph.D. candidate in Environmental studies at the Department of Environment, Development, and Sustainability Studies, Södertörn University, Sweden. She investigates Indigenous ethnomedia in Latin America, focusing on how Indigenous people have used media technologies as a tool for mobilization. Her academic background can be found in the conjuncture of Humanities and Social Sciences, intersecting environmental science, global development studies, social anthropology, performing arts, and media. Her research interests include themes of democracy, climate change, Indigenous media and art, Indigenous people’s participation in global politics, socioenvironmental justice, digital activism, artivism, and decolonization.

Tamikuã Pataxó, Bartira Fortes, Erilsa Braz dos Santos, Iãkupa Apurinã and Marcia Camargo (2023) "Maracá around the World: Empowering Indigenous Women through the Power of Ancestry". Brazilian Research and Studies Blog. ISSN 2701-4924. ISSN 2701-4924nameVol. 4 Num. 3. available at: https://bras-center.com/maraca-around-the-world-empowering-indigenous-women-through-the-power-of-ancestry/, accessed on: March 27, 2024.

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The Brazilian Research and Studies Blog (BRaS Blog) provides a space for researchers and students with a focus on Brazil to publish their research and opinions to a broader audience. We have an interdisciplinary outlook integrating human, social, and applied social sciences. We welcome opinion articles, essays, research excerpts, or summaries with a research focus on Brazil. The BRaS Blog’s purpose is to open room for debate about academic thematic with a more accessible approach. The aim is to present scientific discussions about Brazil favoring the democratization of knowledge access. Our blog publishes contributions around 1000 to 1300 words, besides the references, and in English (in extraordinary cases, texts in Portuguese will also be accepted). BRaS Academic Committee will evaluate the submissions, which will be freely available on the BRaS website.

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