Indigenous Athletes Forge Bonds to a Shared Past

It was halftime at the 2018 Roller Derby World Cup. Team Indigenous was facing Team Italy. “We’re going to take all the power that we have, we’re going to combine it and we’re going to be frickin’ super Indians! Ready?” yelled Melissa Waggoner, one of Team Indigenous’s organizers.

“Strong! Resilient! Indigenous!” the rest of the team responded in unison. The group was made up of astronomers, lawyers, postal workers, mothers, grandmothers and wives. They had tattoos depicting skates, roses and eagle feathers and wore a streak of red makeup across their faces with three dots on each cheek below it.

To some, sport is just a game. To others, including this group of indigenous women, it is a chance to connect with their identity.

Team Indigenous was created by Ms. Waggoner and April Fournier, who are both of Navajo heritage, to “unite the indigenous roller derby community and represent the proud, once-borderless communities in our Ancestral Lands.” The World Cup in Manchester, England, in February was their first appearance as a team. ( They lost to Italy, and placed 27th out of 38 teams.)

Players come from all over the world, motivated by the desire to challenge the status quo and provide alternative role models for indigenous women. The “decolonization” of the sport, as Ms. Fournier calls it, is another important goal. “When I talk about decolonizing roller derby, I talk about recognizing that opportunity and access exist in roller derby only for white privileged American and European people,” she told The Times.

Those who join the team find a supportive community. “Team Indigenous is a team of equals,” Sasheen Wesley, a skater of Ojibwa heritage, said.

“Even though we’re all from different nations, we all have this shared history of being indigenous people,” added her teammate Laura Martinez.

For Ms. Fournier, who grew up in Maine in a mostly white environment, Team Indigenous is an opportunity to reconnect with her roots.

Jorge Cruz, who is of Oaxacan descent and lives in California’s San Fernando Valley, reconnects with his roots through pelota Mixteca, a ballgame said to have originated in Mexico hundreds of years ago. “My dad first brought me out here when I was 17,” Mr. Cruz, 39, told the Times. “He would always tell me that this was one of the ways that we could preserve our culture.”

The game is also a way for Oaxacan players to practice and revitalize their indigenous languages, such as Zapotec, Valle and Mixtec.

“I feel empowered and excited that I’m playing the same game that my ancestors did,” Mr. Cruz’s 15-year- old son, Jorge, told the Times.

On the other side of the world, sailing offers the opportunity to celebrate one’s heritage. In February, a group of young Maori set out to recreate the journey of Kupe, a 10th- century navigator from Tahiti and the first person to set foot in the then-uninhabited island of New Zealand.

Steering double-hulled canoes known as waka hourua, they set off from Auckland for Wellington, about 600 kilometers south, where they were one of the main attractions at the New Zealand Festival.

The feat gave the sailors a new understanding of the challenges faced by their ancestors on their journey to New Zealand. The sailing duties “were a lot harder than I thought they were,” Kupe Te Rina Wineera, a 17-year- old crew member, told The Times.

Despite the hard work, sailing fulfilled an ancient urge.

“Being on board, it adds a whole new dimension to my knowledge of being Maori,” said Petone Beach, another sailor. “I feel more Maori now.”