Oregon Public Broadcasting

A middle-aged Native American woman from the Umatilla Reservation near Pendleton, is taking on a big responsibility. The grandmother wants to teach younger generations how to dig roots, pick berries and sing -- to be Indian.

She fears modern life is overwhelming native culture. It's a common concern on reservations around the West.

Correspondent Anna King has this profile of a woman trying to keep her culture alive.

Marjorie Waheneka, 54, a tribal elder woman, rings a bell during a religious service in the Blue Mountains outside of Lexington, Oregon. The ceremony honors the edible roots they were about to dig.

About 30 Indian women and girls sit peeling and pounding edible roots at the longhouse near Pendleton. They gathered the traditional food in the Blue Mountains and are preparing the roots for a feast. To help with the tedious work, they listen to music.

Usually, an elder would lead the group in song. But this music is recorded on a cassette. It's coming from a boom box. And it's not Columbia River tribal music. They're Hopi songs, from the Southwest.

That's because none of the women here know their tribe's songs.

Marjorie Waheneka says boarding schools, parents who didn't teach their children, and social pressure to be less Indian have weakened Native American culture and tribal knowledge.

She feels a real sense urgency to pass on tribal traditions before they're gone.

Marjorie Waheneka: "Down in Warm Springs I was visiting with my brother and I was asking him how the horse herds were doing. He said, 'Well we have to compete with the computer, and video games, and music' he said 'and girls.' He said, 'We don't have any young cowboys anymore to help us round up. We're losing that cowboy image and the wild horses.'"

Just like wild horses, it's hard to pull young girls away from their boyfriends, cell phones and sports activities to dig roots in the mountains. But Waheneka says she's trying the best she can to be patient.

At 54, Waheneka might seem a little young to be called an elder. She has taken on that role of leader because some of the older ladies have died or fallen ill.

In the mountains a few days earlier, Waheneka was stern but kind with her grade-school-aged granddaughters as they dug for the roots.

Marjorie Waheneka: "Come on you guys."

Waheneka says tribes in this region used to collect many different roots. But now there are only three kinds in her basket. She can't remember the other kinds of roots and when to gather them.

This year some of the young people have come back to participate at the longhouse. It will be up to Waheneka and the other elders to keep them involved.

Kola Shippentower: "I figure that a lot of the teenagers and people my age aren't into their culture too much. And I think it's something really important."

Kola Shippentower, 18, holds up one of the roots she has dug in the Blue Mountains outside of Lexington, Oregon. This is the first year Shippentower has dug roots for the annual root feast ceremony.

Eighteen-year-old Kola Shippentower is helping to dig roots for the ceremonies for the first time.

Kola Shippentower: "Kids are being led more towards the modern life. And I've noticed that. And I've let myself go that way also. My elders and my parents have pointed that out to me that a lot of us need to start getting into our traditions to be able to carry this on."

Waheneka says it's hard to lure young people like Shippentower back to traditional life.

Waheneka has learned a lot from her elders, but says she's still unprepared to lead. She doesn't know all the songs. She doesn't know much of her native language.

So she takes pictures, records songs and tries to write stuff down for future generations. That goes against the will of some tribal members. But she has a firm spiritual belief that she's doing the right thing. And she leaves her judgment up to the Creator.

Marjorie Waheneka: "As it's said in the Indian religion each of us have a piece of paper. Or it's written on our bodies was another way. All of our good and all of our bad are recorded by the Creator. And when our time comes those things the Creator will look at. And that will determine which way we go."

This is Waheneka singing just before the ladies started to dig in the mountains.

It's not the proper song to sing for the roots, but it's one of the only songs she knows by heart.

Listen to more of Majorie Waheneka singing  

Our next story in this series is about building trust. It took correspondent Anna King about four years to get these stories about sacred root digging. We take you for a look behind the scenes.