Woodland Indian Educational Programs

08/19/2026

Did you know that you can make fibers from the inner bark of tulip poplar trees? Though basswood trees were historically - and still are traditionally - most sought after for their inner bark fibers (especially by Indigenous communities from the Western Great Lakes region), bark from other tree species like tulip, elm, cedar, pawpaw and such can also render usable inner bark fibers, or bast, when processed. To get bast fibers from trees, the bark must be stripped from the truck of a relatively healthy tree, which is often best accomplished in the spring to early summer time of year. After long strips of bark are harvested, they are retted. Retting is, to be blunt, the controlled rotting of plant stems or tree barks to break down connecting plant tissues that bind bark layers, thus separating the bast fibers from stems and outer barks. Retting can take many days to many weeks, depending on the plant and method of retting (submerged retting, dew-retting, etc.). As was often done historically, the stripped bark can be bundled and submerged into natural bodies of water to ret for some time, often weeks, depending on the microbial levels and makeup of the water. To end the retting process, the bast fibers are rinsed in clean water, and/or boiled, and fully dried. This ends the “rotting cycle” produced by those helpful microbes, stabilizing the fibers. Pictured here are tulip poplar inner bark fibers I have hung to dry after two weeks of retting, followed by an initial rinsing, a short boil, and a final rinsing. From here fibers can be ‘rubbed’ or ‘pulled’ to soften them, or dyed colors if desired, and twisted into string (if not used in its natural ‘loose’ state.) Bast can be used to make anything from plain cordage and simple nets, to colorful bags and warm garments. This bast here has been cut into rather short lengths, as it is intended for making a small bag. (Photo by J. Diemer-Eaton for WIEP, 2026.)

06/29/2026

Forest County Potawatomi Cultural Center

06/23/2026

Saturday, July 18, Wesleyan Chapel, 1:30 - 2:30pm.
"About the documentary, Without A Whisper - Konnon:kwe (2020): “Before the first women’s rights convention in Seneca Falls in 1848, European colonial women lacked even the most basic rights, while Haudenosaunee women had a potent political and spiritual voice and authority in all aspects of their lives. The contact that the early suffragists had with Haudenosaunee women in New York state shaped their thinking and had a vital impact on their struggle for equality that is taken for granted today. The film follows Mohawk Bear Clan Mother Louise Herne and Professor Sally Roesch Wagner as they seek to correct the historical narrative about the origins of women’s rights in the United States.”

Click on original post by Women's Rights National Historical Park to see more details...

Women’s Rights NHP is thrilled to announce Convention Days 2026 featured speaker: Katsitsionni Fox, filmmaker from the Mohawk Territory of Akwesasne!

Join us on Saturday, July 18 starting at 1pm in the historic Wesleyan Chapel for a film screening of the award-winning documentary: Without A Whisper - Konnon:kwe (2020), produced by Women Make Movies. Directly following the film screening, from 1:30pm – 2:30pm, Katsitsionni Fox, the filmmaker, will be joining virtually to discuss: “Sky Woman and Her Influence on Women's Rights.” Please note that while the presenter will appear virtually, this is an in-person program and experience only.

About the documentary, Without A Whisper - Konnon:kwe (2020): “Before the first women’s rights convention in Seneca Falls in 1848, European colonial women lacked even the most basic rights, while Haudenosaunee women had a potent political and spiritual voice and authority in all aspects of their lives. The contact that the early suffragists had with Haudenosaunee women in New York state shaped their thinking and had a vital impact on their struggle for equality that is taken for granted today. The film follows Mohawk Bear Clan Mother Louise Herne and Professor Sally Roesch Wagner as they seek to correct the historical narrative about the origins of women’s rights in the United States.”

Follow along as we countdown to Convention Days 2026: Unfinished Resolutions, and learn more about the commemorative event on our website: https://www.nps.gov/wori/planyourvisit/convention-days-2026.htm

[Image: Katsitsionni Fox, filmmaker from the Mohawk Territory of Akwesasne; and the official film poster of Without A Whisper - Konnon:kwe (2020), (provided by the presenter)]

06/17/2026

Help needed for a Wabeno Lodge Build this week! Please join if able!

06/12/2026

Post #9 (of 9):
WOODLAND NATIVE AMERICAN FLEXED-WALL HOME CONSTRUCTION: HISTORY, ARCHAEOLOGY, & TRADITION

The word “wigwam” is derived from the Algonquian Language Family and is employed today as a universal term in describing traditional nuclear family homes of the Eastern Woodlands region. Close terms include the Unami-Delaware “wikëwam” (wikwahëma pl) and Ojibwe “wiigiwaam” (wiigiwaaman pl). Wig- and wik- can be seen in terms referring to the act of residing/living/dwelling in some Algonquian languages... For example, “wiku” is Unami-Delaware for “s/he dwells / s/he has a house”... And the root "wiiki-" meaning "dwell; stay" can be found in several Myaamia/Miami terms defining the act of staying or living (at a place). Wig- or wik- can also be seen in words describing materials often employed in house building, especially bark, such as the Ojibwe word "wiigwaas" meaning "birch bark; a piece of birch bark," and "xkwikipi" defining "slippery elm bark" in the Unami-Delaware dialect. Indeed, the act of dwelling/residing and those preferred building materials (bark) for house construction are significantly, culturally connected.

"Wikiup" is another popular term used today to describe a Woodland nuclear family home. “Wikiup” also comes from an Algonquian term referring to a home structure, just the same as “wigwam.” It was likely adopted from house terms like “wikiop” (Menominee) and “wiikiyaapi” (Fox/Meskwaki), or even a word like “wiikapi” (Myaamia/Miami) meaning “a piece of basswood bark." In general reference, both "wikiup" and "wigwam" terms work (like when we use the term "moccasin" to describe a type of footwear in general). But keep in mind there are so many uncorrupted terms for “a home/dwelling” from different Native dialects that are very appropriate to use, especially when describing homes of specific Nations.

(Note: Though not all Algonquian-derived wigwam terminology is extremely similar, you may have noticed the wigwam terms given so far are, and also appear to favor either G’s or K’s in their pronunciations (wig-/ wik-). So why is it often that if not a /g/ sound, it's a /k/ sound, or vise versa? That's because /g/ and /k/ are homorganic sounds... both velar consonants are produced in the back of the mouth (with the back part of the tongue raised towards the soft palate). More, the adoption/exclusion of /g/ or /k/ in words can help linguists understand the transformation and expansion of languages throughout history, and their relationships to other languages, and more importantly understand better the Peoples' relationships to each other.)

I favor the general term “wigwam” in my speech and writing... This is only because the term “wikiup” has often been used to describe Apache dwellings (in poplar writing and some educational outlets), and because they are not similar to Eastern homes, I rather stick to written terminology that embodies Woodland traditions without the association of a very different Native housing tradition of the Southwest. But truly the term “wikiup,” just like the term “wigwam,” comes from the Woodlands region... Wikiup was just borrowed to describe Apache brush structures, the same way early writings referred to Plains tipis as wigwams.

Terminology relating to the anglicized "wigwam" and "wikiup" appear in different Algonquian languages/dialects... Yet some today believe the two terms were originally intended to describe two different types of homes - "wigwam" to define a lodge that is permanent vs "wikiup" to mean a smaller lodge that is fully mobile. However there is no WHOLE lodge that traveled in the Eastern Woodlands... There is no equivalent of a traveling bark "tipi" here, where all coverings AND poles (framework) traveled settlement to settlement. Only some coverings of a wigwam were truly mobile historically (reed/grass matting, rolls of birch bark). The dozens of arched poles creating the framework, as well as any other species of bark besides birch, generally did not get broken down and packed to move (and most lodge bark sheets utilized east of the Mississippi were non-birch barks, like elm... see posts 6 & 7 to learn more). The framework of dome-shaped lodges were often set in the ground and left there (see posts 2-4 for more about wigwam framework).

"Traveling wikiups" are a thing today partly due to early/ mid-20th century bushcraft publications and scouting activities that established THEIR popular, often romanticized versions of Indigenous lifeways, which continues today even in the face of established cultural facts. Native lifeways became an especially popular subject among non-indigenous Americans during the later years of the Industrial Revolution, particularly when men's secret societies, boys clubs, and nature-based outings/tours filled "a need" for Americans to break away from their industrialized worlds/city-life and embrace nature (to which Native Peoples were classified as). Popular narratives of Native American cultures were circulated, sometimes emulated in pageantry or camping, and persist to date (examples include some children's summer camps and Order of the Arrow), often overshadowing Native-lived experiences, tribal histories, archaeological evidence, and other scholarly work. This is "the history of our history," and knowing it - that is knowing the history of how we have perceived, embraced, rejected, framed, and taught our collective history - is critical to knowing and understanding actual Native American history.

"Traveling wikiups" have particularly persisted to date with hobbyists and enthusiasts wanting to display native-style architecture while camping themselves, thus many creating fully-enclosed dome or conical "mini wigwams" to travel to reenactments, rendezvous, and other gatherings with. As you may already suspect, packing the wikiup poles on top of the sedan wasn't a usual practice a few hundred years ago. Such very small, built-for-one wigwams are generally misleading, such as when a company of men sleep in separate mini wigwams despite being part of the same reenacting group... This contrary to historical practice, where traveling groups of Indigenous men tended to stay together, sleeping in close quarters with minimal fuss given to shelters while en route or during short stays. Thus the use of these mini wigwams are, quite frankly, more reflective of our modern culture that highly values space and privacy than a reflection of the history or the traditions it purports to demonstrate.

That concludes our posts on Woodland Native American Flexed-Wall Home Construction on https://www.facebook.com/WoodlandIndianEDU Thank you for following us, and reading along. We hope you enjoyed the series. If you missed the previous posts, you can see them on our fb page timeline.
----------------------------------------
Photo: A newly built 12x15ft wigwam for museum interpretive exhibit, constructed during a WIEP wigwam workshop in Michigan, 2014. Wigwam doorways were usually more narrow, yet this doorway was purposely built wide for visitor accessibility.

Post #9 (of 9):
WOODLAND NATIVE AMERICAN FLEXED-WALL HOME CONSTRUCTION: HISTORY, ARCHAEOLOGY, & TRADITION

The word “wigwam” is derived from the Algonquian Language Family and is employed today as a universal term in describing traditional nuclear family homes of the Eastern Woodlands region. Close terms include the Unami-Delaware “wikëwam” (wikwahëma pl) and Ojibwe “wiigiwaam” (wiigiwaaman pl). Wig- and wik- can be seen in terms referring to the act of residing/living/dwelling in some Algonquian languages... For example, “wiku” is Unami-Delaware for “s/he dwells / s/he has a house”... And the root "wiiki-" meaning "dwell; stay" can be found in several Myaamia/Miami terms defining the act of staying or living (at a place). Wig- or wik- can also be seen in words describing materials often employed in house building, especially bark, such as the Ojibwe word "wiigwaas" meaning "birch bark; a piece of birch bark," and "xkwikipi" defining "slippery elm bark" in the Unami-Delaware dialect. Indeed, the act of dwelling/residing and those preferred building materials (bark) for house construction are significantly, culturally connected.

"Wikiup" is another popular term used today to describe a Woodland nuclear family home. “Wikiup” also comes from an Algonquian term referring to a home structure, just the same as “wigwam.” It was likely adopted from house terms like “wikiop” (Menominee) and “wiikiyaapi” (Fox/Meskwaki), or even a word like “wiikapi” (Myaamia/Miami) meaning “a piece of basswood bark." In general reference, both "wikiup" and "wigwam" terms work (like when we use the term "moccasin" to describe a type of footwear in general). But keep in mind there are so many uncorrupted terms for “a home/dwelling” from different Native dialects that are very appropriate to use, especially when describing homes of specific Nations.

(Note: Though not all Algonquian-derived wigwam terminology is extremely similar, you may have noticed the wigwam terms given so far are, and also appear to favor either G’s or K’s in their pronunciations (wig-/ wik-). So why is it often that if not a /g/ sound, it's a /k/ sound, or vise versa? That's because /g/ and /k/ are homorganic sounds... both velar consonants are produced in the back of the mouth (with the back part of the tongue raised towards the soft palate). More, the adoption/exclusion of /g/ or /k/ in words can help linguists understand the transformation and expansion of languages throughout history, and their relationships to other languages, and more importantly understand better the Peoples' relationships to each other.)

I favor the general term “wigwam” in my speech and writing... This is only because the term “wikiup” has often been used to describe Apache dwellings (in poplar writing and some educational outlets), and because they are not similar to Eastern homes, I rather stick to written terminology that embodies Woodland traditions without the association of a very different Native housing tradition of the Southwest. But truly the term “wikiup,” just like the term “wigwam,” comes from the Woodlands region... Wikiup was just borrowed to describe Apache brush structures, the same way early writings referred to Plains tipis as wigwams.

Terminology relating to the anglicized "wigwam" and "wikiup" appear in different Algonquian languages/dialects... Yet some today believe the two terms were originally intended to describe two different types of homes - "wigwam" to define a lodge that is permanent vs "wikiup" to mean a smaller lodge that is fully mobile. However there is no WHOLE lodge that traveled in the Eastern Woodlands... There is no equivalent of a traveling bark "tipi" here, where all coverings AND poles (framework) traveled settlement to settlement. Only some coverings of a wigwam were truly mobile historically (reed/grass matting, rolls of birch bark). The dozens of arched poles creating the framework, as well as any other species of bark besides birch, generally did not get broken down and packed to move (and most lodge bark sheets utilized east of the Mississippi were non-birch barks, like elm... see posts 6 & 7 to learn more). The framework of dome-shaped lodges were often set in the ground and left there (see posts 2-4 for more about wigwam framework).

"Traveling wikiups" are a thing today partly due to early/ mid-20th century bushcraft publications and scouting activities that established THEIR popular, often romanticized versions of Indigenous lifeways, which continues today even in the face of established cultural facts. Native lifeways became an especially popular subject among non-indigenous Americans during the later years of the Industrial Revolution, particularly when men's secret societies, boys clubs, and nature-based outings/tours filled "a need" for Americans to break away from their industrialized worlds/city-life and embrace nature (to which Native Peoples were classified as). Popular narratives of Native American cultures were circulated, sometimes emulated in pageantry or camping, and persist to date (examples include some children's summer camps and Order of the Arrow), often overshadowing Native-lived experiences, tribal histories, archaeological evidence, and other scholarly work. This is "the history of our history," and knowing it - that is knowing the history of how we have perceived, embraced, rejected, framed, and taught our collective history - is critical to knowing and understanding actual Native American history.

"Traveling wikiups" have particularly persisted to date with hobbyists and enthusiasts wanting to display native-style architecture while camping themselves, thus many creating fully-enclosed dome or conical "mini wigwams" to travel to reenactments, rendezvous, and other gatherings with. As you may already suspect, packing the wikiup poles on top of the sedan wasn't a usual practice a few hundred years ago. Such very small, built-for-one wigwams are generally misleading, such as when a company of men sleep in separate mini wigwams despite being part of the same reenacting group... This contrary to historical practice, where traveling groups of Indigenous men tended to stay together, sleeping in close quarters with minimal fuss given to shelters while en route or during short stays. Thus the use of these mini wigwams are, quite frankly, more reflective of our modern culture that highly values space and privacy than a reflection of the history or the traditions it purports to demonstrate.

That concludes our posts on Woodland Native American Flexed-Wall Home Construction on https://www.facebook.com/WoodlandIndianEDU Thank you for following us, and reading along. We hope you enjoyed the series. If you missed the previous posts, you can see them on our fb page timeline.
----------------------------------------
Photo: A newly built 12x15ft wigwam for museum interpretive exhibit, constructed during a WIEP wigwam workshop in Michigan, 2014. Wigwam doorways were usually more narrow, yet this doorway was purposely built wide for visitor accessibility.

06/11/2026

Post #8 (of 9):
WOODLAND NATIVE AMERICAN FLEXED-WALL HOME CONSTRUCTION: HISTORY, ARCHAEOLOGY, & TRADITION

Wigwams and other types of flexed-wall structures of the Eastern Woodlands were not always covered with sheets of bark (see previous post)... Often lodges were covered with exterior-type "reed" mats. Such mats might be used on temporary camp lodges or at a family’s winter quarters, like winter wigwams located at a distance from the summer villages (such as in the SW Great Lakes region). Or mats might be utilized to cover homes in a village setting, such as what was seen with some Virginia/North Carolina coastal Native villages. Or interior-type mats may have been used to insulate year-round bark homes in main villages, such as was presumably done by northern Delaware (Munsee-Lunaape) Peoples.

Exterior mats were often made from leaves of the broadleaf cattail. They were constructed by sewing through the leaves widthwise, not weaving. This was accomplished using wide, flat rib-bone needles and bark fiber cordage. Many still make these mats the old way, with 8 or so inch flat needles fashioned from moose, deer, or bison ribs. Sewing, not weaving the mats, helped them to shed water... This is in part because sewing the leaves together didn't add the depressions to the surface of the mats that weaving creates (small depressions that could accumulate water and slow down water shedding off). And sewing was generally faster than weaving, which could have made it somewhat easier to replace sewn cattail mats, since exterior mats would have had to be replaced more often as they were exposed to the elements. Cattail mats could be made single or double thickness, and often one edge is left “unfinished”... this helps to shed water, and again, it’s more efficient to not spend unnecessary time finishing an edge that would be counterproductive. The cattail mats were layered, the same as bark sheets, starting from the bottom working to the top, to shed water. (See close up photo of a sewn cattail mat in the comments section).

Cattail mats (and mats in general) insulate the home from the cold outside. The cattail leaves are spongy and full of air space. Layering the mats, 4 or more deep, create air pockets between the warm interior and cold exterior temperature, allowing a gradual change from cold to warm, efficiently insulating the home. In the western and southern Great Lakes, winter wigwams were often covered in cattail mats with or without bark. Bark used in conjunction with mats offered even more protection from the elements. I have myself been in a well-layered cattail-mat wigwam and can speak to the quality of insulation... insulation that can only be achieved with layering.

With that said, southern New England traditions contrast with the practices of western Great Lakes and other inland Indigenous communities sharply, as they speak to traditions of utilizing smaller lodges and mat coverings in the summer months. These folks utilized the resources in a way that was best for them, breaking up into smaller family units during the farming months to take advantage of pockets of better soil, and shore and wetlands food sources - wetlands that also provided reed materials. Further south were other ocean adjacent residing folks (Virginia/North Carolina) who may have appreciated exterior reed mats for their ability to cool the home simply by rolling them up/away, partly exposing the house frame around the lower walls allowing for extra air flow. Exterior reed mats were utilized differently by different Eastern Peoples of different Eastern environments.

Interior mats, usually woven (of bulrush or other reeds/sedges/grasses) and often featuring aesthetically pleasing designs, were also used to insulate the home. These woven mats were fastened to the frame from the inside. Those who lived bark homes through the winter months could insulate their lodge by fixing the mats to the inside of the bark walls as needed. Woven mats were also used for padding under beds and sitting areas, privacy walls/dividers (in multifamily lodges), and for carpeting the floors of the lodges (along with woven mats made of other materials, like cedar bark and river cane). The harvesting, boiling, dying, and weaving of bullrush into beautiful mats is still practiced today by some Indigenous craftspersons, often working with the goal to pass on the tradition or revive the art-form among the younger generations of their communities.

(Note: This series does not cover thatched or wattle-and-daub variation of flexed-wall construction, as practiced by certain Mound Building Peoples and Southeastern Woodland Nations.)

To Be Continued Tomorrow on https://www.facebook.com/WoodlandIndianEDU “Like” us to follow the posts on your newsfeed. Missed the previous posts? See them on our fb page timeline.
-----------------------------------------
Photo: Interior of our wigwam showing the layering of woven grass mats, 2014. (See a close-up photo of actual sewn exterior-style cattail mat in comments section of original post.) This wigwam also features smoke-stained tent/trade canvas covering the top of the lodge... such canvas material obtained from Europeans/Euro-Americans.

Post #8 (of 9):
WOODLAND NATIVE AMERICAN FLEXED-WALL HOME CONSTRUCTION: HISTORY, ARCHAEOLOGY, & TRADITION

Wigwams and other types of flexed-wall structures of the Eastern Woodlands were not always covered with sheets of bark (see previous post)... Often lodges were covered with exterior-type "reed" mats. Such mats might be used on temporary camp lodges or at a family’s winter quarters, like winter wigwams located at a distance from the summer villages (such as in the SW Great Lakes region). Or mats might be utilized to cover homes in a village setting, such as what was seen with some Virginia/North Carolina coastal Native villages. Or interior-type mats may have been used to insulate year-round bark homes in main villages, such as was presumably done by northern Delaware (Munsee-Lunaape) Peoples.

Exterior mats were often made from leaves of the broadleaf cattail. They were constructed by sewing through the leaves widthwise, not weaving. This was accomplished using wide, flat rib-bone needles and bark fiber cordage. Many still make these mats the old way, with 8 or so inch flat needles fashioned from moose, deer, or bison ribs. Sewing, not weaving the mats, helped them to shed water... This is in part because sewing the leaves together didn't add the depressions to the surface of the mats that weaving creates (small depressions that could accumulate water and slow down water shedding off). And sewing was generally faster than weaving, which could have made it somewhat easier to replace sewn cattail mats, since exterior mats would have had to be replaced more often as they were exposed to the elements. Cattail mats could be made single or double thickness, and often one edge is left “unfinished”... this helps to shed water, and again, it’s more efficient to not spend unnecessary time finishing an edge that would be counterproductive. The cattail mats were layered, the same as bark sheets, starting from the bottom working to the top, to shed water. (See close up photo of a sewn cattail mat in the comments section).

Cattail mats (and mats in general) insulate the home from the cold outside. The cattail leaves are spongy and full of air space. Layering the mats, 4 or more deep, create air pockets between the warm interior and cold exterior temperature, allowing a gradual change from cold to warm, efficiently insulating the home. In the western and southern Great Lakes, winter wigwams were often covered in cattail mats with or without bark. Bark used in conjunction with mats offered even more protection from the elements. I have myself been in a well-layered cattail-mat wigwam and can speak to the quality of insulation... insulation that can only be achieved with layering.

With that said, southern New England traditions contrast with the practices of western Great Lakes and other inland Indigenous communities sharply, as they speak to traditions of utilizing smaller lodges and mat coverings in the summer months. These folks utilized the resources in a way that was best for them, breaking up into smaller family units during the farming months to take advantage of pockets of better soil, and shore and wetlands food sources - wetlands that also provided reed materials. Further south were other ocean adjacent residing folks (Virginia/North Carolina) who may have appreciated exterior reed mats for their ability to cool the home simply by rolling them up/away, partly exposing the house frame around the lower walls allowing for extra air flow. Exterior reed mats were utilized differently by different Eastern Peoples of different Eastern environments.

Interior mats, usually woven (of bulrush or other reeds/sedges/grasses) and often featuring aesthetically pleasing designs, were also used to insulate the home. These woven mats were fastened to the frame from the inside. Those who lived bark homes through the winter months could insulate their lodge by fixing the mats to the inside of the bark walls as needed. Woven mats were also used for padding under beds and sitting areas, privacy walls/dividers (in multifamily lodges), and for carpeting the floors of the lodges (along with woven mats made of other materials, like cedar bark and river cane). The harvesting, boiling, dying, and weaving of bullrush into beautiful mats is still practiced today by some Indigenous craftspersons, often working with the goal to pass on the tradition or revive the art-form among the younger generations of their communities.

(Note: This series does not cover thatched or wattle-and-daub variation of flexed-wall construction, as practiced by certain Mound Building Peoples and Southeastern Woodland Nations.)

To Be Continued Tomorrow on https://www.facebook.com/WoodlandIndianEDU “Like” us to follow the posts on your newsfeed. Missed the previous posts? See them on our fb page timeline.
-----------------------------------------
Photo: Interior of our wigwam showing the layering of woven grass mats, 2014. (See a close-up photo of actual sewn exterior-style cattail mat in comments section of original post.) This wigwam also features smoke-stained tent/trade canvas covering the top of the lodge... such canvas material obtained from Europeans/Euro-Americans.

06/10/2026

Post #7 (of 9):
WOODLAND NATIVE AMERICAN FLEXED-WALL HOME CONSTRUCTION: HISTORY, ARCHAEOLOGY, & TRADITION

During spring to early summer, the bark of most trees separate from the sapwood as a new tree ring forms. It was this time of year the bark could be peeled off in large sections suitable for house construction.

Bark was often harvested efficiently by peeling it from standing trees... To do so, a tree was girdled around the bottom, girdled up high, and a line was cut vertically to connect the two. The length of the section may be the height in which a person could reach up and cut/chop, using no ladder. However to obtain longer bark sections, 7+ feet in length, ladder devices were used. It wasn't unusual for lodges to be covered in very large bark sheets... For example Coo-coo-chee, a Mohawk woman living among Shawnee, Miami/Myaamia, and Delaware/Lenape Peoples (in northwestern Ohio, 1772), lived in a 14 ft wide by 28 ft long sapling-framed bark cabin covered in large sheets of elm bark, each measuring about 3 - 4 feet wide and 7 - 8 feet long.

Some continue this tradition, harvesting lodge bark from standing trees, though many also harvest bark from felled trees to. Either method results in the same outcome for the tree itself... A tree cannot survive being stripped of its FULL bark layer from the FULL circumference of its trunk... and when collecting bark for lodge building, the most square footage of the whole bark layer is removed. (Note: Targeting tree bark for only cordage-making, only cedar-mat making, only thin-walled birch containers or similar projects, can take less from a standing tree and may spare the tree, but not lodge-building... Lodge-building requires the Lives of trees - an integral part and tradition of the Human Nation - Plant Nation relationship.)

For thicker non-birch barks (elms, tulip poplars, hickories, ashes, etc.), stone and later metal axes where used to chop through the bark layer. The bark is peeled off often with wooden wedge-tipped tools. It can be applied straight to the lodge frame, especially if it’s a flexed-wall home (as the bark can be shaped to the curve of the frame), or it can be laid out, weighted and flattened for later use. Left to dry without being fixed to a frame or flattened, it will roll up and become unusable... thus heavy barks were often shaped right away while fresh, unlike birch bark, which is easily shaped anytime after a good soak.

Birch bark (notably called "wiigwaas" (sg) in Ojibwe) - a bark with unique characteristics - was often harvested in the early to late spring. It too could be taken from a standing tree, but often the trees, which weren’t as large in diameter as other trees used for lodge bark, could be cut down first to take as much useable bark from each tree as possible (as demonstrated by some early 20th century Anishinaabe birch bark harvesters). The bark was sliced into with knives, cut with hatchets, and peeled off the tree. It, unlike other bark varieties, could be saved, moistened and used later. In fact, it could be used over and over again, on multiple structures. Wiigwassan (pl) is still a sought out resource by Indigenous lodge-builders, container-makers, and artisans.

Bark sheets were attached to the lodge frame starting from the bottom (lower walls) working up to the top (roof) in a shingle-like fashion. Doing this ensured the structure would shed water properly. New heavy bark, like those from elm, tulip, ash and other non-birch varieties, could warp with intense strength after getting wet, and so required sufficient bracing to counteract this. Using an outer framework of saplings to squeeze bark against the inner frame was an efficient way to brace heavy bark, discouraging the bark from curling (which it naturally does when first drying and as it's exposed to weather). Many (though not all) bark-covered structures featured an outer framework, and such outer frameworks have even been detected archaeologically (by post mold stains).

To Be Continued Tomorrow on https://www.facebook.com/WoodlandIndianEDU
“Like” us to follow the posts on your newsfeed. Missed the previous posts? See them on our fb page timeline.
-------------------------------------------
Photo: A wigwam frame partially covered with elm bark - the bark sheets partly braced with saplings. From a WIEP build just outside Detroit, MI, 2015.

Post #7 (of 9):
WOODLAND NATIVE AMERICAN FLEXED-WALL HOME CONSTRUCTION: HISTORY, ARCHAEOLOGY, & TRADITION

During spring to early summer, the bark of most trees separate from the sapwood as a new tree ring forms. It was this time of year the bark could be peeled off in large sections suitable for house construction.

Bark was often harvested efficiently by peeling it from standing trees... To do so, a tree was girdled around the bottom, girdled up high, and a line was cut vertically to connect the two. The length of the section may be the height in which a person could reach up and cut/chop, using no ladder. However to obtain longer bark sections, 7+ feet in length, ladder devices were used. It wasn't unusual for lodges to be covered in very large bark sheets... For example Coo-coo-chee, a Mohawk woman living among Shawnee, Miami/Myaamia, and Delaware/Lenape Peoples (in northwestern Ohio, 1772), lived in a 14 ft wide by 28 ft long sapling-framed bark cabin covered in large sheets of elm bark, each measuring about 3 - 4 feet wide and 7 - 8 feet long.

Some continue this tradition, harvesting lodge bark from standing trees, though many also harvest bark from felled trees to. Either method results in the same outcome for the tree itself... A tree cannot survive being stripped of its FULL bark layer from the FULL circumference of its trunk... and when collecting bark for lodge building, the most square footage of the whole bark layer is removed. (Note: Targeting tree bark for only cordage-making, only cedar-mat making, only thin-walled birch containers or similar projects, can take less from a standing tree and may spare the tree, but not lodge-building... Lodge-building requires the Lives of trees - an integral part and tradition of the Human Nation - Plant Nation relationship.)

For thicker non-birch barks (elms, tulip poplars, hickories, ashes, etc.), stone and later metal axes where used to chop through the bark layer. The bark is peeled off often with wooden wedge-tipped tools. It can be applied straight to the lodge frame, especially if it’s a flexed-wall home (as the bark can be shaped to the curve of the frame), or it can be laid out, weighted and flattened for later use. Left to dry without being fixed to a frame or flattened, it will roll up and become unusable... thus heavy barks were often shaped right away while fresh, unlike birch bark, which is easily shaped anytime after a good soak.

Birch bark (notably called "wiigwaas" (sg) in Ojibwe) - a bark with unique characteristics - was often harvested in the early to late spring. It too could be taken from a standing tree, but often the trees, which weren’t as large in diameter as other trees used for lodge bark, could be cut down first to take as much useable bark from each tree as possible (as demonstrated by some early 20th century Anishinaabe birch bark harvesters). The bark was sliced into with knives, cut with hatchets, and peeled off the tree. It, unlike other bark varieties, could be saved, moistened and used later. In fact, it could be used over and over again, on multiple structures. Wiigwassan (pl) is still a sought out resource by Indigenous lodge-builders, container-makers, and artisans.

Bark sheets were attached to the lodge frame starting from the bottom (lower walls) working up to the top (roof) in a shingle-like fashion. Doing this ensured the structure would shed water properly. New heavy bark, like those from elm, tulip, ash and other non-birch varieties, could warp with intense strength after getting wet, and so required sufficient bracing to counteract this. Using an outer framework of saplings to squeeze bark against the inner frame was an efficient way to brace heavy bark, discouraging the bark from curling (which it naturally does when first drying and as it's exposed to weather). Many (though not all) bark-covered structures featured an outer framework, and such outer frameworks have even been detected archaeologically (by post mold stains).

To Be Continued Tomorrow on https://www.facebook.com/WoodlandIndianEDU
“Like” us to follow the posts on your newsfeed. Missed the previous posts? See them on our fb page timeline.
-------------------------------------------
Photo: A wigwam frame partially covered with elm bark - the bark sheets partly braced with saplings. From a WIEP build just outside Detroit, MI, 2015.