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The Boundaries of Acquisition: The Cultural Limits in Acquiring KnowledgeKatice Helinski
ABSTRACT
There are certain venues within the Zuni tribe where knowledge is transmitted, and varying degrees of restrictions exist within these zones. Storytelling is a more open element of education. Young and elders within the society use it as a part of conversation. It is not unusual for a Zuni man or woman to drift into a tale of their people through accounts of childhood adventures or historical events. The stories are carried throughout generations, keeping the culture alive. Throughout my research, stories were repeated in publications by different Zuni people, and repeated again by Zunis I encountered on the reservation. This displays how the tales are passed down through the generations. Storytelling is a way of perpetuating their ancient way of life, which links to why it occurs so freely. Tales are told and retold until they become an integral part of life and passed on to later generations. The details of the core of their culture that involve sacred history, such as the story of creation, are told by people specially trained to inform repeatedly without variance (Wyaco, 3). However, there are limits. In the multitude of Zuni knowledge that is recorded by word of mouth there is a select amount of information that they are willing to reveal to the general public. Some things are only meant for Zunis, and they make it clear, whether in publications or conversation, that there are some things outsiders should not know. This position is not an act of resentment of other cultures; it is simply the way all knowledge is treated—as something sacred and sometimes very private.
Many zones of learning are bound in a way that access to information is permitted only to certain people. For instance, Zuni has six kiva groups, which consist only of men. "Membership is determined by the kiva group of the husband of the midwife who first touches the baby as he emerges from the womb" (Wyaco, p. 101). Then, when a boy reaches the age of twelve, he is initiated into the group and officially becomes a man. At this point they become privy to new information, signifying the passage into a new group. This private place for men is something that is solely theirs, balancing out the women's ownership of the household. This gender separation becomes a part of childhood as well. Education and training of girls occurs in the household, where they aid their mother and learn traditional elements of life in a Zuni home that will only be known by them. Parallel learning experiences occur when boys are out together, learning about hunting, farming, and the land in another setting. (Wyaco, p. 16,17) While this separation exists, it is not one of subordination. The boundaries make the women and men dependent on each other. Sacred religious ceremonies, and the positions people hold within this realm contain the most limits. Chosen people who are able to focus completely on the sacred event impersonate the gods in ceremonies. When the "personators" are in the kiva, ceremonial house or costuming they must not be observed. (Wyaco, p. 98) This is another aspect of privatization of knowledge. Numerous other societies and rituals are bound by restrictions on certain tribal groups, but details are held within a boundary of their own, keeping the secrets as close to Zunis as possible. As stated by a respected Zuni man, "Religious business is religious business and not for common knowledge" (Wyaco, p. 54).
Evident in the discussion of Zuni social groups, acquisition of information is perceived differently at Zuni than it is within Anglo culture. From childhood we are told about intellectual freedom, which gives everyone the right to access information. In school students are commended for asking questions. Our lives are dominated by the media, in which the best reporters dig the deepest for information and details. We always want to know all the specifics, but Zuni life works in a different manner. They are comfortable with some things remaining a mystery. There is not an obsession with finding out everything, instead knowing comes in stages, when it is appropriate. In Virgil Wyaco's autobiography he explains the teasing, humor-loving nature of the Zunis by relaying how his family repeatedly tells a story of when he sealed their dirt floor with lard as a child. Though he has been curious about whether or not the lard harmed the floor, he has never asked because "it wasn't the point of the story." "There is a mutual understanding that laughter is appropriate, but not questions. Even gentle questions are considered aggressive" (p. 10).
What is the harm in inquiry? It relates to their social structure of a codependent society functioning as a solid unit. Traditionally, Zuni has never been a society of dominating leaders—there is no archaeological evidence of prominent houses or monumental architecture (Howell, p. 89). Due to the distribution of wealth, religion and ceremony there are various types of status, providing each person with a vital role in society. Consequently, the preservation of the social structure in Zuni relies on the concept that no one person rises high above the group. Forwardness and self-pride are dangerous to this system that has been sustained for thousands of years despite pressure from the invasion of outside groups. Even today, with the tribal council and governor (drawn from Spanish influence), Zunis still have a driving desire to benefit their people in order to give something from themselves to the tribe as a whole. When I was at Zuni, in a conversation about additions at their Department of Natural Resources, Wilbur Haskie said simply, "If it's good for my people, I'll do it. If it's not for my people, I don't want it" (Journal, May 17). Maintaining sustenance within a harsh highland desert environment relies on a delicate balance between members of the community. Just as there is a balance between a corn plant and the scarce rains, so the Zuni tribe thrives due to the balance between the members of society, each holding their place in the pueblo as a whole.
Ethnocentrism present among people of other cultures results in demeaning attitudes about the Zuni tribe due to uninformed assumptions. Whites may assume an Indian student is unintelligent or uninterested because he does not ask questions in the classroom. They may not object to certain injustices, because it is not their way to pry with aggressive interrogation. Consequently, this is part of what has contributed to the rift between the Anglo and Indian cultures that inhabit the United States. An understanding of these cultural differences cannot only benefit relations between groups; it can also provide another outlook on the manner in which we acquire knowledge. It would be beneficial for people of other cultures to make an attempt to accept that certain situations have a power that exists because of the presence of elements that are left unexplained. Sometimes part of understanding is the knowledge of what is best left as mystery. The Zunis' annual ceremony of Shalako reveals the power of this mystery. This time of feasting, involves the coming of the gods that bestow good life. Moving in ritualized dances, the Shalakos—impersonated by those chosen by high priests—attend festivities in six specially prepared houses, each representative of a kiva group. People of all cultures are welcome to view the ceremonies and take part in the feasting (The Zuni People, p. 54-67). However, little explanation is given to visitors about the ceremony's meaning and power. In addition, the Zuni people do not question why they do not know what takes place among the Shalakos prior to performance. They do not ask personators about the secrets of the event, though they may be a relative or neighbor. Without this mystery the presence of the gods would not be felt as greatly.
This concept applies outside of religious ceremonialism as well. As Virgil Wyaco stated earlier, sometimes it is not the point of the story. There is a respect for what is told and what is withheld and those boundaries are an integral part of the culture. Because of the lack of an affinity to question asking, there is a different manner of perceiving things. Observation, and intuition are heightened. I think the importance of learning through experience and interaction is sometimes suppressed by our desire to research and inquire. I have taken part in this aggressive researching myself. In this study of the Zuni culture, I learned a great deal about their history, sense of community, and affinity for the land. Much of my knowledge was gained through research methods foreign to the Zuni ways—I read numerous books about ethnographic research taken by anthropologists at Zuni and archaeological studies. However, my most valued knowledge comes from experiences within Zuni itself. While in this place I did not document ancient Indian activities or ask questions about their way of life. Instead, I willingly absorbed what was offered to me and left the rest to remain unexplained. The adobe Mission Church, reminiscent of the time of the Spaniards, sits in a prime location within the village. Through a kind gesture, I was allowed to view paintings of important ceremonial Zuni figures in each season. Though the artist talked extensively about his artwork, I never learned whom the figures depicted or what the significance of each was, but it did not matter. As I sat in the cool dark church there was something inspiring and powerful that would not have been amplified if I were able to provide an explanation for the sacred images.
At Zuni, injured eagles are housed in an aviary made of materials from their land, in order to collect the feathers of the sacred birds for religious use. Through work with an architecture professor, I have become involved with the project to expand the eagle project due to the high demand of feathers. No one has ever told us what the people of the tribe do with the feathers, but we must accept that. It is sometimes difficult not to be intrusive; however, the people recognize and appreciate that respect.
Limits provide structure and the unknown can sometimes inform the known. Divisions occur within all societies, but what makes them unique within Zuni is that people respect the fact that the divisions do not make one person higher than another; they are simply a component of a single functioning body. More importantly, the Zuni people accept that there are aspects of their society of which they know very little about and inquiry is not acceptable. No one is considered ignorant or uneducated because they do not know something—they simply haven't been told. People are comfortable with finding out only what information is offered to them. I do not think all cultures should stop asking questions, rather we should just ask fewer questions about Zunis. They will share as much as is acceptable to their society. While I have spoken of certain ceremonies and traditions, I have told only what Zunis have told. Details are not what understanding Zuni culture is about; it is an experience and a knowing that is felt through interaction with the people and the landscape that they are linked to. With this understanding of another way of life, our perception of learning within our own society can be broadened, increasing the dimension of our understanding. We should learn to accept that there is an edge to what can be known, and to be content with stating as they do in texts of the Zunis, "That is all that I know". (Bunzel, 52)
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