Since time immemorial is a recurring series featuring community members whose families have been here since time immemorial. The ancestral knowledge carried by Lhaq’temish (Lummi), Nooksack, and other Coast Salish peoples is knowledge about how to live in our shared home in a good, life sustaining way. We live in a time when we need to restore our relationship with Mother Earth and with one another. We are grateful for these stories, told in the words of each featured individual.

Santana Rabang is currently executive assistant to the secretary of Lummi Nation and is also a student at Fairhaven College. She previously graduated from Northwest Indian College and worked for Children of the Setting Sun Productions, where she is honored to be part of the Salmon People Project and the Young and Indigenous podcast.

Photograph by Cocoa Laney

Would you please introduce yourself? 

My name is Santana Rabang, and I come from Lummi, Nooksack, and First Nations Shxwhá:y Village. My mother is Felicia Lawrence of Lummi Nation, my grandmother was the late Hazel Lawrence, and my grandpa is Felix Gallegos. My great grandparents were the late Madeline Quincy and Peter Paul Lawrence. My father is Robert Rabang, Jr. of Nooksack and Shxwhá:y Village. My grandma was the late Janice Lee Rabang and my grandpa is Robert Rabang Sr. My great grandparents were the late Elizabeth Rabang and Frank Rabang.

You mentioned your parents, grandparents, and great grandparents when you introduced yourself? 

There’s this saying in our culture that you don’t know who you are unless you know where you come from. For me, that’s not only place-based, it’s also ancestral.

How did you come to be where you are today?

 I think where I am right now all really stems from a traumatizing experience that I had with tribal disenrollment and pushing me down this journey of advocacy. I find myself very happy and joyful in the moments where I’m advocating for something that’s bigger than myself. When I started working at Children of the Setting Sun Productions, Darrell [Hillaire] really helped spark the confidence in me to use my voice even further, and speak out against various issues Indigenous peoples face. The largest project I had the honor of being a part of was the Salmon People Project. Now, with my work at Lummi Nation, I’m really following this path of tribal leadership and figuring out what that means to me.

Disenrollment?

 I was raised in both Lummi and Nooksack communities, but I was enrolled at Nooksack. All my life I went to cultural gatherings, family birthdays, anything that you could think of, in both communities. These places are a part of me. In 2012, my family got a letter that stated that we didn’t meet certain eligibility requirements for enrollment, and that our Nooksack citizenship was revoked. I was only 16 at the time, and I didn’t understand what was going on. In a lot of Native communities, not everyone’s blood related, but we all consider one another family. So, when I was told that I wasn’t Nooksack by people who I considered family, it hurt. It made me feel like I didn’t belong and ultimately pushed me down a journey of self-discovery.

When I enrolled at Northwest Indian College, I took a cultural sovereignty class where one of the first assignments was to learn our own family tree. Learning my family tree empowered me with the knowledge to feel like I belonged. The education I received regarding identity and belonging allowed me to think beyond a plastic tribal ID or blood quantum or any of these colonial policies that have been pushed in terms of eradicating tribal identity.

Is there a teaching or a story that you hold very close? 

When I was in the midst of trying to figure out my life, I went to Oaxaca, Mexico, on a study abroad program. I was really happy to go, because I felt like I was going to have two months to heal. My idea of healing was very individualized, like my healing would be for me, for myself. I’d talk to my mentor about these feelings I was having, and he shared a saying with me: “No es sanarme, es sanarnos.” It’s not about healing me, it’s about healing us. For me, that meant when I heal, I help heal those around me.

I know you take care of a number of family members who live with you. There’s all this heavy work that you do. What do you do for lightness, or for filling yourself back up?

 I’m a sunset chaser and a sunset lover. Visiting any type of water and watching the sunset are like my two favorite things in the world.

Hy’shqe, thank you so much. Enjoy the evening, find a sunset.

 I’ve got a midterm paper to work on, but yes!

About the Writer:

Julie Trimingham is grateful to make her home on traditional Lhaq’temish territory, and to work for the Sacred Lands Conservancy (SacredSea.org), an Indigenous-led 501c3 nonprofit organization dedicated to protecting the life, culture, and sanctity of the Salish Sea. 

"There’s this saying in our culture that you don’t know who you are unless you know where you come from. For me, that’s not only place-based, it’s also ancestral. - Santana Rabang "