A poetic reflection written by Jewel Rodgers

in response to BIG MEDICINE: The York Project,

written and performed by Hasan Davis. York, an enslaved

member of the Lewis and Clark Expedition was hailed as

"Big Medicine" for his power and presence — an enduring

story of survival amidst systemic erasure.



-----



Hasan Davis

Recounts a time

He taught a boy

To know himself, so that

The boy could value others - moments

After showing us the plentiful ways

York was stolen out of his own body.



I can’t quite put my finger on

The familiarity of it all.



As York tells me of the ways he was silenced, I wonder

If mansplaining is a passed-down tradition

Originating from ancestral slave-splaining.

If the soft offense of revisiting an idea is heritage

Derivative of stealing the voice right out of the body.



And I can’t quite put my finger on

The familiarity of it all, but

If we just called it labor

Would you remember?



Two centuries worth seep from the tongue, pooling reflection

Of the bear York was prepared to fight with axe in hand

Of tree trunks made roots of his back ‘cross campsite

Of how, even as a boy, York is made a Master’s man -

Prepared to give his life in exchange for the one

Who owns it anyway. And thank God

For the kind of survival

That supersedes the body.



But if this religion

Can make a Master (God) of a man

Was it ever a religion at all? And I don’t mean

We shouldn’t honor this religion; I just mean,

There are so many bodies.



And I can’t quite put my finger on

The familiarity of it all, but

If we just called it survival

Would you call this living?



Who would listen to you?

Who has claimed your voice lately?

And were you safe enough to take it back?

What other hands have grown accustomed to this kind of taking?

And what is this requisite overflow but an inheritance

Making of a body no well dare run dry?



Hasan Davis

Performs rain dance in our eyes

And we make a well of whatever we have left to give.

York begins pouring out, wide as the Pacific

Just as Clark pulls his tongue above tide;

York’s voice becomes a crumbling

At the underbelly of the plentiful.



If not those men, who else would be known

As the greatest explorers?

What if they were more like the Indigenous

Familiar with welcoming the spirit home?

Who else would hold all this guilt?

Can you swallow all this shame?

What becomes of the mother tongue

If not the culture we fight to keep?



Hasan Davis

Gives voice to an endless man

Who is unadorned for the ways

It could not have been without him

Because what else was there to do

But obey in excellence?

To be an endless overflow?

To drown in your own offerings.



And isn’t there

Something eerie about

This kind of abundance?

To be of a well

That could never

Stop pouring

Even if it begged.



And what is the ache

In a greedy man’s heart

But an inheritance?



What else

Do your

Ancestors

Pass down

But a rage?

And a longing?

And all this power.



York swells his chest

And sets sail for the last time

And I can’t stop thinking about you

And all this water.