Students and mentors gather beneath the finished rematriation center in Rainier Beach during a celebration marking the project's completion. (Photo: Andrew Roibal)
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How Indigenous Youth Transformed a Community Project Into an Act of 'Rematriation' in Rainier Beach

By designing and building a 'rematriation welcoming center' rooted in tradition, Indigenous youth connected generations and reimagined what it means to care for land, culture, and community.

Mark Epstein

When two organizations — the yəhaw̓ Indigenous Creatives Collective and Sawhorse Revolution — came together, the idea was to provide an opportunity for young people to design and build something small. But when the work was done, they'd created something larger and more substantial than imagined.

They planned a project based on each group's ideas about the importance of young people shaping their own futures and positively impacting their community. The resulting project in upper Rainier Beach involved weekly after-school design meetings during the fall 2024 semester. It concluded in June with the construction of the students' vision: a rematriation welcoming center.

Both organizations place a focus on food sovereignty, and initially they thought students would construct a shed to house garden tools. But then the students took the project further than anticipated, eventually landing on a welcoming center of rematriation, a women-led process to restore the sacred connection between people and the land. The structure will play a central role in yəhaw̓'s community rematriation ceremony on July 25.

The rematriation pavilion is open-walled, with sloping V-shaped roofs; the roofs rest on rounded posts, which posed an initial challenge to the construction crew. It is adorned with masks that the students created. Located behind the yəhaw̓ office, which is in a 1939 landmark brick house, it will serve as an entry point to those visiting the land. The concept is based on the welcoming traditions of different Indigenous peoples.

A mentor speaks with students beneath the newly finished rematriation center in Rainier Beach during the completion celebration.

Mel Carter, a mentor on the project and yəhaw̓ staff member, described rematriation as "a mothering energy, restoring and returning the land back into Indigenous hands that in turn nurtures people to their full health, and expands their sense of belonging and happiness." 

Carter (they/them) reflected on the sense of continuity for the collective: The structural posts used in the new center were repurposed from a 2019 art installation called "Brings the Medicine Sundial," created by Kim Deriana, who is a project mentor of the new center. "The friendships and partnerships that were developed with all of our mentors and participants were part of our concept from the inception. To see the youth's involvement has been a beautiful way to cross the divides between our generations; it represents a revolving door in continuing our vision for this land," they said.

The project, nurtured by local and Indigenous architects, skilled construction workers, and staff from both organizations, demonstrates the potential power of an idea, and how it can transform over time when it is put into practice.

While a traditional architectural approach starts with an end product in mind, yəhaw̓, owners of the land just below Kubota Gardens, and Sawhorse, a local organization teaching high school students community-focused carpentry and craft, decided to prioritize the design process itself. The experience and participation of young people were the most critical components.

In June, the groups hosted a gathering circle to celebrate the students' work. Marcus Henderson, program coordinator at Sawhorse, said that students, the majority of whom were Indigenous, now had a place where they could be comfortable confronting mental health and emotional struggles." By the end of the circle, all of the mentors were in tears," said Henderson. 

The students spent 24 weeks together sharing food, fresh air, companionship, and aspects of their inner lives. They contemplated their ancestors and their descendants. They put their ideas into practice, with guidance when needed, and gained more knowledge than they would have from the use of construction tools. According to Harrison, "They are stronger and more competent in facing the years ahead of them."

Students in the Sawhorse Revolution and yəhaw̓ Indigenous Creatives Collective program measure and cut wood during construction of a new rematriation center in Rainier Beach.

The students agreed.

Angel, a natural leader and organizer, said, "I used to be like, no breaks; now I know everything takes time. In my life, or in my room, I can see how things change a little bit at a time. … I learned I can do so much more than I thought. People are like, 'Women can't do that …' But, we built this, and the majority of us are women."

Harmony, who wants to be a future record producer and founder of a record label, said, "In communities like Rainier Beach, where it's like predominantly People of Color, which is being rapidly gentrified, and we're kind of being pushed to the side. To have programs like this which cater exactly to People of Color and to the original people of this land, it's so impactful; it makes people feel seen and heard."

Mailea, the youngest participant, who worked on both the design and construction phases, said, "I loved the camaraderie," adding that "It was also beautiful to combine the art and construction elements in this project."

Students in the Sawhorse Revolution and yəhaw̓ Indigenous Creatives Collective program carved wooden masks that will adorn the beams of the new rematriation center in Rainier Beach.

Henderson said the recognition of the present impact of historical trauma on Indigenous people had a transformative effect. The experience led students to reflect on the need for new systems to end oppression in their lives. "Place matters," he said. "This could not have happened anywhere else."

With community support, the yəhaw̓ Indigenous Creators Collective announced in mid-July that they were able to expand their land in Rainier Beach through the purchase of the adjacent carriage house. The collective's Instagram post declared the purchase "a victory for the Land Back movement," bringing them closer to their "dream of creating a sustainable Indigenous arts center."

At the closing celebration, Asia Tail, executive director of yəhaw̓ collective and a cofounding member, reflected that mentors had brought their own children to the building days, and one of the lead architects was pregnant as the structure took shape and was constructed. "They won't remember a time that it wasn't there," she told the youth. "Your powerful work will have impact for generations to come."

Yəhaw̓ will host a rematriation celebration on Friday, July 25, 3–8 p.m.,9674 51st Ave. S. The organization also hosts volunteer activities on Friday afternoons.

Mark Epstein is a retired, though still subbing, longtime Rainier Beach social studies teacher; the high school is located just down Mapes Creek from the yəhaw̓ collective's land. He is a longtime union activist, loving life as a husband, father, grandfather, and community member.

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