Koonííni'ííni, Pathfinders and Starfinders!
November is recognized in the United States of America as Native American Heritage Month—a celebration of the indigenous peoples of Turtle Island and our contributions to art, culture, environmental conservation, and more! This year’s theme is Celebrating Tribal Sovereignty and Identity—showcasing the wide diversity of indigenous cultures and ways of life.
In celebration of Native American Heritage Month, we’ve reached out to some of our Native contributors, who have built items inspired by their cultures!
David N. Ross
I write for Pathfinder, Starfinder, and sometimes other games, and am a whiz a converting between systems. When I’m not working on freelance for various clients, I am developing a storytelling card game with my husband. You can find me on Twitter @DavidRossWorlds Bluesky @davidnross and via other contact options on my linktree: https://linktr.ee/davidnross
My mother’s family has always kept at least one dreamcatcher, a traditional Anishinaabe ward against bad dreams. It’s true that nightmares have always been fortuitously rare for me at least, especially since my grandma gave me one of my own. It certainly doesn’t hurt that mine reminds me every day I see it of family even when I am far away.
Mahpiya
Bannock holds a special place on the prairies as a symbol of our adaptability and resilience. We were introduced to the food through the fur trade, and it stuck with us as we were forced into the reservation system, turning government rations into nourishment for our people. The process of making bannock itself is the process of learning our history. I carry memories of listening to my mothers, my grandmothers, and the other elders in my life (pidamayeye, Kokum Brenda and Grandma Bear) as we cooked together, shared food, and shared stories, both of our own lives and the lives of those who came before. Through food we remember our past, and the stories that guided us through it.
You can find me slowly trying to figure out bluesky @Mahpiya. Just don’t ask me for the recipe, it’s a family secret.
Marlowe Miller
Nawwih! The sun-blessed corn pounder is based on one of my favorite and most memorable Caddo stories, "The Young Man and the Cannibals." In it, a young man is trying to find his brothers and finds they've been eaten by a family of cannibals. The young man is saved by an unseen, unknown force (later revealed to be the Sun) from death by long-nosed iron mask and told to run, take a corn pounder from an old woman cannibal, and kill the cannibal family. I love this story because of the iconic symbols of the corn pounder and the long-nosed iron mask, and how it speaks to the running theme in our cultural hero stories of taking leaps of faith and persevering even in the direst of situations.
I'm a pretty solid social media hermit, but I can be found on the social media platform formerly known as Twitter @diwasti_ or on bluesky @diwasti.bsky.social. Alternatively, I can be emailed directly at genesysfrog@gmail.com!
Shay Snow
Not many Caddo recipes have survived to the current day, so the few recipes I have access to, I treasure. Caddo fish relish is a recipe I remember my aunties and Yeye preparing in large batches before canning it in mason jars and storing it away to eat with pretty much anything. It’s spicy and briny and we’ve always joked could be used as a weapon in a pinch! Some Caddo language learning time: this relish is made with daháw (onion), hasahk’uh ch’ántinu’ (unripe green tomato), and kah’án:k’as (spicy pepper)!
Rue Dickey (they/he/xe)
Hey all! Rue here again, still a proud Indiginerd and the Marketing & Media Specialist here at Paizo! One of the joys of my experience as a game designer is getting to see my cultures brought to the table in a variety of systems and settings. Finally, the stories that we were punished for singing can be told to new generations.
The ghost dance was part of a resurgence of Arapaho culture in the late 19th and early 20th centuries and remains a cultural tradition and festival for North and South Arapaho peoples. Through the ghost dance, we reconnect with our ancestors, as well as send our energy forward to future generations, so that our knowledge can be shared, along with our triumph and sorrow. An act of protest at its inception, the ghost dance remains a symbol of Arapaho culture’s resilience. As the sun sets only to rise again, we too shall continue to rise.
Thank you so much to our contributors for sharing these snippets of their culture with us (and giving us more items for our game tables).
Rue Dickey (they/he/xe)
Marketing & Media Specialist
Arapaho Nation