I’m going to be honest, it’s hard to write about How We Stand in a few paragraphs.Blending magical realism with a story of sisterhood, loss, and the bonds that transcend time, it is is a riveting drama about three sisters whose lives were shaped by government policies designed to eradicate Indigenous people.Visionary director Marie Clements wrote such a beautiful, multi-layered film that captures something immense for those not familiar with U.S. Native American history, and even those of us who could have lived it will find ourselves unpeeling the nuances of each scene. You might not catch all the dimensions of trauma hidden in there. I’ve watched it a few times now, and every time I find another layer and five new micro-aggressions that I don’t normally see reflected on screen. And that's the beauty of this film, the layers Marie seamlessly wove into four storylines without overwhelming the audience. Marie shows how Native women have had to survive in a world that strips them of everything, including their autonomy, and yet still gives us hope that we can forge a path from here.
Jesse, my character Angela’s oldest daughter, played by the amazing Amber Midthunder, is constantly othered. As a doctor, she's too Native, and as a Native, she's not “enough.” She has been fully assimilated, and separated from her culture and people to the point she doesn’t consider herself Native. But everyone around her does and makes sure she knows it. A powerful stand-off with her in-laws happens where she is confronted about Natives and alcoholism, after she refuses a drink. The audacity of some people.
During our interviews at the Toronto International Film Festival, where How We Stand had its world premiere, Isabel Deroy-Olson, the very talented actress who plays Angela’s youngest daughter, Janey, said: “Forced sterilization was only criminalized in June of this year, and it was only criminalized as an act of abuse this year.” She made the point that Janey’s storyline could have actually happened to her. That is terrifying. And makes me want to wrap her in a bubble to protect her.
Probably the storyline that is most visible to the world today is that of Angela’s middle daughter, Miranda, played by the incredible Alyssa Wapanatȃhk. In the film, Miranda starts by auditioning to play a small bit part in a Western. Eric Johnson, who plays the director, has a line where he says something to the effect of, “I don’t know, is it weird to hire an Indian to play an Indian?” And it got a good chuckle at all the screenings, because we see the truth in that and unfortunately not much has changed.
But things have changed. Audiences demand authenticity. People are starting to realize that Natives are just a part of the fabric of life and can exist without being othered.
And that’s my goal in film. To show the beauty and strength of Native stories outside of our trauma. To show our joy. Stories like How We Stand and Killers of the Flower Moon are extremely important. Because they teach us what history will not. They show us what was inflicted to us, and shine a light on the very recent past. And that’s important. But I think it is equally important to show our resilience and our joy, not our just survival. To see the love in our communities and pride in our culture. Not to mention, Natives are funny as hell. We need a Native comedy!
Growing up, I didn’t see Natives represented on screen. In the rare times I did, it was in a leathers-and-feathers period piece. Not seeing someone like me in movies during my formative years unconsciously told me I didn’t belong, that I couldn’t be an actor, that people don’t care about our true voices. We’re background figures in our own stories.
Then my husband told me that I should take an acting class. And that was all I needed to realize that acting is just a skill that can be developed. It doesn’t matter what shape or size you are, or what background you have, acting just asks you to be honest. It also asks you to work your ass off. And if you’re willing to do both of those things, there is a space for you.
I’m hoping to give Native kids a chance to see themselves represented on screen. To show that their experience isn’t other, it's just life. One of the coolest things I've been a part of is teaching filmmaking workshops to the youth. My friend LaRonn Katchia, the Warm Springs Community Action Team and I, have gathered together a group of teens and pre-teens, ages eight to 19, and started at the beginning: from concept, to script, to screen. We teach filmmaking because I don’t want anyone to think there's only one path to Hollywood.
We’ve run this workshop a few times. The shorts the students created were even accepted into L.A. Skins Fest here in Los Angeles. The kids all piled into a van and a couple chaperones drove them from the Warm Springs Reservation in Central Oregon to L.A. They got to experience creating a film and screening it for an audience. I wish you could have seen their faces light up when the audience laughed, or gasped, then cheered. Giving them an opportunity I would have loved to have as a kid fills my heart. I’m hoping they see someone like me or Isabel, Amber and Alyssa on screen and believe, “I can do that.” The thought never crossed my mind growing up, but it can cross theirs now.
