Buffy Sainte-Marie: Declaration

A flash in the pan: when an old musket’s gunpowder flared up without a bullet being fired. Ineffectual, no consequence. That was the literal meaning. Today, the meaning, the figurative one, refers to someone or something that is merely a one-off, a likely unrepeatable sort of thing. And that brings us around to the music industry. Whether a one-hit wonder or the flavour of the month, the biz is rife with flashes in the pan. That’s rife as in rifle. It’s fortunate there are still some, albethey few and far between, shots, if I may continue the metaphor, that have an effect, that stay the course. That soldier on. Universally.

Buffy Sainte Marie’s campaign started long ago, and she continues to battle. Put Buffy next to Brittney and the flash-in-the-pan idea may begin to take hold, notwithstanding the fact that Ms. Spears had another hit. One more time, anyway.

If there is one war Buffy has enlisted to fight in, it is the war to have indigenous people treated as well as the people who first oppressed them. Amongst the skirmishes in which she has taken up arms is the one to bring indigenous music in all its coats and colours to the masses. She knows the battle is an uphill one but remains guarded in her optimism and hope.

“The fact is, we are a tiny minority, often lucky even to be window dressing,” she says. “There is a huge White music industry with many thousands of people working it at every level, discovering, developing the artists they come across and invest in. There’s also a huge Black music industry, and a huge Latino one. But compared to these populations, Indigenous people are a small survivor population, without networking, connections or an address book, and unschooled in the ways many parallel European immigrant business families grow up in, Paul Simon for instance.”

Buffy learned early that to be able to continue spreading her message meant resourcing various means for its delivery. The songs and the meaning and value they carry, unless they are heard, unless they work to improve lives and incite action in others, are lost.

“Actually, at a certain point, I came to understand that I was never going to get heard the way my peers would, with a huge career infrastructure support protecting and promoting ‘the product.’ Blacklisted from radio play, I continued to make the same points on Sesame Street for five years as I had been doing in my adult music career, only reaching more people worldwide,” says Buffy. “I expanded that same message in the Cradleboard Teaching Project (Buffy’s 1997 education initiative to raise self-identity and self-esteem in present and future generations of Native American children), speeches, and teacher education throughout the ’90s and early 2000s. All of these efforts had their audiences, so I knew that people wanted to know, so finally – in my album Medicine Songs last year – I put all of my activist songs together on one album so people can find this kind of song when they need it, to use in their own lives when they need it. That’s what I mean by putting the songs to work. I get a lot of mail that people find them valuable for putting things into words that many feel but haven’t yet found a way to express,” explains Buffy.

Buffy’s take on the world in all its beauty and blemishes was built over time with each event a kind of unwelcome confirmation that injustice was going to be a lifelong enemy.

“Combinations of things, I think, have shaped my worldview, not all obvious or positive. My worldview is a little bit like that of a Contrary in that my world often seems to be different from that of my peers. Weird, and it’s like several times I’ve been punished for being good at stuff that others couldn’t see.

“For instance, I was told I could not be a musician, be in a band, get good grades in school music because I couldn’t seem to learn European notation. But after school, I could go home and play fake Tchaikovsky, so I learned about reality differently than most kids whose lives actually conformed to the popular perceptions of reality. I could play without lessons but got punished for it, being that I was dyslexic in notation. I was also told I could not be indigenous because the Indians were all gone, vanished!” says Buffy.

Imagine the excitement of anticipating college commencement (The University of Massachusetts, in Buffy’s case) only to be told three weeks beforehand that graduation was being denied despite being among the top in her class. Seems an aced speech in a freshman class exempted her from having to take the course. Wonderful, but oh, Buffy was never told she would have to make up a credit. Smells fishy, Boston.

“So, my worldview is definitely not hearsay from somebody else, or some trolled-upon reconstructed trend personality. I have a real reality that starts and stops right here: grounded in the brilliance.”

Fighting for change can leave one feeling as though all one ever does is bemoan the status quo. So, while she never loses sight of the end game, Buffy can separate the muddy trenches from furlough. Still, the message is the message. The medium is the song. Apologies to Marshall McLuhan.

“Oh yeah, they can exist independently. And the songs that have made me enough money have all been love songs, not activist ones. ‘Up Where We Belong’ and ‘Until It’s Time for You to Go’ are pretty much pop standards, not activist or protest. But as somebody trying to be effective beyond just complaining, even though sometimes it’s more effective to show up, or give money, or call your senator etc., I do work really hard on activist songs. I fact check, make them bulletproof, then try to put them into intriguing, engaging music so they’re catchy instead of boring.

“‘The War Racket’ has an edgy original track. Without it, the song wouldn’t be the same. The music for ‘Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee’ is metal rock, not Woody Guthrie. ‘Universal Soldier’ ends with an unresolved up-in-the-air chord that leaves the lyrics hanging right in your face. That’s all very strategic, hoping to engage listeners to understand the point of the lyrics,” explains Buffy.

And guess what? In case you thought otherwise, icons put their pants on one leg at a time just like us.

“I try to get up about 6 a.m. Hawaii time wherever I am, until I get used to the jet lag. (That’s noon in Toronto, 6 p.m. in Europe.) Black coffee. Water with apple cider vinegar and Truvia. Breakfast a few hours later. On a heap of hot water-warmed arugula, I put a sliced avocado and two poached eggs. I sprinkle salt and pepper and turmeric plus extra virgin olive oil and garlic, toss it all, and that’s breakfast. If I’m home, I work in the garden, feed the animals, go to the gym, write or make music, have minimal lunch and dinner whenever I get hungry, and go back to working. At least one of those meals is pretty much the same as breakfast except I have salmon, some other veggies. Zero sugar. Zero alcohol. Always feel full, no cravings.”

As for legacy, perhaps it’s as an instrument, a tool for change that Buffy can best envision her bequest to the rest of us.

“I hope to have been of use. I like the idea of using my gifts to bridge the gaps between the indigenous world and everybody else, mostly because we need each other, and both ‘sides’ are cool and have a lot to give. The influence of the Cradleboard Teaching Project model is what makes me feel proud, despite being very early for the market and not about business. I’d like to leave behind the idea that trying hard is really worth it, including how we say things. I also hope that concepts I’ve expressed in songs can be of use.”

Some will tell you what you really want ain’t on the menu / Don’t believe them. Cook it up yourself and then prepare to serve them.
(From Jeremiah)

Aside from the vast blue yawn of the Pacific, the horizon for Buffy includes a great deal of work, musical and otherwise.

“Privately, I’m researching the slave trade in Native American women and girls (men as well) from the 1500s to present day. So huge, so un-studied by English-speakers. In South Carolina in the 1800s, there were still more Native American slaves being exported than there were Africans being imported, but few scholars have brought the enslavement of Native American people to public attention. Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls is not new.”

Buffy’s main delivery method, the one she is most well-known for, is never on the back burner for very long.

“On the other hand, as a writer, I have a bunch of children’s songs I’m turning into a book series, and a full-length children’s book coming out probably this fall. Also writing a screenplay; and developing a mentoring initiative for reserve kids to learn about concerts, art shows and other showbiz and art careers.”

There will be no truce, no cease-fire in the fight for musical equity. For Buffy, laying down arms is not an option. As for the place indigenous artists occupy on the musical landscape, Buffy says that it is, “better than it was, not as good as we wish. We’ve never been around how the game is played, who payolas whom, where the door is or what to do or who to talk to. Although we get some surface attention now and then, like every 30 years when there’s a new Indian movie, in order to play in the major leagues, eventually you have to have a team, and we don’t have that. Yet. Because we’re still pretty token-ized, you seldom see more than one indigenous act on a show. And we are so dis-similar: Tanya and I and Lido and Jeremy and Tribe Called Red (to mention a few) are all indigenous, but we couldn’t be more different: each is a true original. It’s all good: we’re all ripening, and so are audiences.”

About a decade ago, Leonard Cohen referenced a quote by Tennessee Williams – “Life is a fairly well written play except for the third act.” Whether or not the guys were addressing the uncertainty of the last third of one’s life given its surprises, health related and other, the sentiment carries little resonance for Buffy.

“I don’t live much like either of those guys, so I have fewer aches and pains and complaints. I’m as healthy at 78 as I was at 21, better, in fact, because I eat so much smarter now. I’m strong, creative and have a lot of fun, same as in my 20s, 30s etc. I’ve loved every birthday, never understood the decade-ing that people fear: The Big 3-O etc. However, in my life, I’ve never had a hangover or any of the typical liver, joint pain and brain inflammation most people get from wine, beer, other alcohol, refined foods and sugars. (This is a very unpopular position though. And besides making wine connoisseurs mad, not drinking is a huge impediment to social and business networking, because that’s where the deals are made, so I’m not recommending it for business.)”

So, if Buffy has her way, we’re stuck with her. But if your way includes the eradication of injustice in all its manifestations, if your way embraces great music from exciting indigenous artists, and if your way looks with admiration and thanks on the life of a woman who has worked tirelessly to champion the lives of others, being stuck with Buffy really ain’t such a bad thing.

If you were to meet your 20-year-old self, what advice would you give her?
“Trust your gut: keep your nose on the joy trail and avoid predators because it’s all real and your choices last a long time.”

Who or what has influenced you the most? And why?
“My mother who raised me who was always so nice to me and also so funny. She was an unschooled biblio-holic who read everything, was kind of a hermit with no social pressures, worked in publishing as a proofreader and editor, and thought that learning something – anything – was like money in the bank. She told me anything I wanted to learn about was out there: Go get ’em!”

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