Blanket Stories: Textile Society, R.R. Stewart, Ancient One

A site-specific installation for the United States Embassy in Islamabad, Pakistan

85.
Molly Murphy Adams

I didn’t know the term for it at the time, but I grew up in the Native Diaspora. Expatriate Native Americans scattered by history and circumstances making a community and a homeland far away from their places of origin.

My high school graduation was a big event in my family, neither my parents or older siblings had finished high school. The entire school process and culture was unknown territory. Thankfully I had a group of amazing teachers who went beyond the role of educator and became my friends. Two of my favorite teachers were married, Greg and Victoria Lenihan. They came to powwows to see me dance, and I made beaded moccasins for their newborn son. In small ways at school they helped me through the exhaustion of holding together a hectic and insecure life with a limited support system.

About a week after graduation there was a knock on the door, which doesn’t happen often in Housing Authority apartments. Greg Lenihan brought me a star quilt that was from my Grandmother’s reservation, Pine Ridge in South Dakota, a place I had never been. The quilt might be the most meaningful gift I have received. It’s origins echoed a home I didn’t know, a people I was connected to but separated from, but most importantly it showed me that your tribe are the people who show up when its important. For the last 20 years the blanket has brightened my days, warmed my guests, and cradled my kids.