Awardwinning journalist and Aquinnah Wampanoag Joseph Lee masterfully weaves multiple themes into his book “Nothing More of This Land.” He uses land both physically and as a sense of place to explore with unguarded honesty his growing understanding of what it means to be an indigenous person. Lee’s background is complex, as he is also of Chinese and Japanese descent. And while he studied Mandarin in Newton, outside Boston, where he resided, Lee spent his idyllic summers immersed in the Wampanoag community in Aquinnah.
It is this land, home to the Aquinnah Wampanoag, that serves as the jumping-off point for Lee’s incisive investigation of his family history, tribal identity, sovereignty, tradition, and the lasting impact of colonization. Throughout the book, we journey with Lee as he examines his misconceptions about the connection between land and indigenous identity, and what he learns as he sets about correcting them.
Lee’s quest took him from the beaches of Martha’s Vineyard to the icy Alaskan tundra, the smoky forests of Northern California, the halls of the United Nations, and beyond. While his scope is large, his intimate narrative style, soaked in personal experience, keeps us riveted.
Lee began by learning more about his own community. We trace the tribe’s history from the legend of Moshup, who foretold the arrival of new people who would forever change the Wampanoag way of life, to the destruction caused by early colonization through disease and war in the 17th century. By the 19th century, although there had once been four Wampanoag communities on Noepe (Martha’s Vineyard), most Wampanoag lived in Aquinnah, which the state incorporated as the town of Gay Head in 1870, creating two significant issues.
The land was divided into privately owned plots, but common land now belonged to the state. Similarly, “the newly instated property taxes proved impossible for many Wampanoags to pay. Their largely subsistence-based lifestyles left little room for extra money to cover property taxes. Even if they could afford the taxes, the Wampanoags questioned why they should pay for land their families had been living on for thousands of years. After Gay Head’s incorporation, many quickly sold their land for the payout and to avoid having to live there.”
Today, property taxes and the high cost of living have contributed to fewer than a quarter of the tribe living in Aquinnah. As with all his points, Lee notes that the issue is more complex than it might initially appear. “We do need to do more to create opportunities, namely jobs, housing, and education, so people can stay in their tribal communities, should they want to. But we also need to adapt to the reality that indigenous people have been leaving their homelands for generations now.” He continues, “For so many people I talk to, they know that being away from home doesn’t make them any less indigenous, but it does limit their ability to engage with certain aspects of indigenous life, like ceremony, community events, tribal politics, and so on.”
Lee also delves into tribal politics both internal and external, reflecting the complexity of many issues. One of the many fascinating examples is the debate that ensued regarding whether to build a casino in Aquinnah. Not only was there external opposition from nontribal members, but there was also division within the tribe itself. Although many members viewed the casino as a source of revenue for education, health, and elder services, some Island-based members opposed the project, feeling that it was being pushed by those who lived off-Island and would not have to live with the consequences.
Lee writes about his growing understanding of internal tribal dissonance and its impact on identity: “I had always assumed that Wampanoag identity, and more broadly, indigenous identity, was forged in those early years of colonization … But the truth is that the choices each generation made defined and shaped what it meant to be Wampanoag. And with choices come disagreement. I underestimated the internal tension these changes caused in the tribe. Assuming that past generations were united is making the same mistake non-natives make when they assume that all native communities want the same thing.”
Lee poignantly reflects, too, on how much Aquinnah has changed in just the past few decades, as well as the looming threat of continually rising property taxes and erosion due to climate change: “But even though I can’t control the land or predict what new challenges will emerge, I can keep working toward a community that is prepared to handle them … My generation is using the tools and experiences [former generations] gave us to fight for different goals. Whether it was Moshup preparing his family for invaders, King Philip’s resistance, or my grandfather’s generation fighting for our land, we have always risen to the challenge.”
This is just a small taste of the nuanced picture Lee paints, skillfully highlighting the importance of land for the Aquinnah Wampanoag and other indigenous peoples. In a recent interview, he reflected, “I hope that readers come away with a deeper understanding of the Wampanoag community and culture, and Martha’s Vineyard. And also, a more nuanced understanding of what it means to be indigenous — the diversity within the Wampanoag tribe and different indigenous communities across the country and around the world.”
“Nothing More of This Land: Community, Power, and the Search for Indigenous Identity,” by Joseph Lee. Available at Edgartown Books and Bunch of Grapes.
