As members of several Western tribes gathered in the Utah State Capitol to honor a Paiute dancer killed by a Millard County sheriff's deputy, jaws dropped and glares were raised toward the rotunda, where murals depict the state's history. Amid the fur traders and Mormon pioneers, a couple of American Indians lurk behind trees in the backgrounds. Only one panel, euphemistically titled "Peace With The Indians • September 1852," shows the full faces of any of Utah's indigenous people.
" 'Peace with the Indians?' That's ridiculous," said Marlee Kanosh, whose brother Corey Kanosh was shot to death Oct. 15, 2012, after a car chase and alleged struggle with sheriff's deputies near the Kanosh Paiute Indian Reservation.
"The trust I had died with my brother," Kanosh said to a circle of about 50 people at a somber demonstration tied to the tribal solidarity movement known as Idle No More. Protesters memorialized Kanosh and blessed his family with prayers and songs in at least eight different languages — fitting, his sister said, given Kanosh's efforts to preserve Paiute arts in the face of a shrinking tribe. After the 2004 death of their grandfather, Chief McKay Pikyavit, Kanosh threw himself into traditional dance, appearing at powwows in regalia he made himself.
"He was elegant," Marlee Kanosh said. "He wanted to learn everything he could before it could die out."
When he died, Kanosh was learning "Salt Songs," or mourning songs, sung from dusk to dawn in Paiute funeral tradition, Marlee Kanosh said. He had sung at several memorial celebrations, "helping loved ones make their journeys to the other side," she said. "Corey had supported a lot of people in the Native American community."
When he died, several of those families came to pay respects at his own memorial.
"Remember: His life mattered," said Victor Puertas, a member of the Yagua people of Peru, now living in Salt Lake City. "We have a community that's mourning for him after two years, and questions that aren't answered."
Kanosh's family has filed a federal lawsuit against Millard County in his death, but the case is on hiatus as they seek legal funds. The case was dismissed with the condition that the family has until May to reopen the matter, according to court records.
Meanwhile, Kanosh's sister and mother, Marlene Pikyavit, have connected with several other families of those shot by police in Utah, to support each other online.
"We're all friends now," said Pikyavit. "We think of them as family."
But on Monday, the circle focused on another shared experience as a feather was passed from speaker to speaker.
"We have to be afraid for our lives out there, on our own land," said Nataanii Means, a member of the Ogalala Lakota, who grew up on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. "We know what it's like to be harassed."
Means joined with several other men to sing the intertribal "AIM Song." Others sang in Nahuatl, Mohawk and Diné bizaad, or Navajo. The San Francisco music group Almas Fronterizas played and danced as smoke from a sweetgrass braid wafted over the circle.
The Capitol setting weighed on several speakers.
"I know that right here is a sacred spot," said Marcus Stevens, of Shiprock, N.M. "What's below this is Mother Earth. This is how this works. They build things on our ceremonial sites."
"There is no honor in this building," agreed Puertas, prompting several cries of support. "Buried under this horrible building is our mother. … But we want to bring our voices here."
When after-hours construction crews activated their machines, drowning out those voices, the irony was not lost on Puertas.
"It's how they treat people in this state."
Rick Egan | The Salt Lake Tribune Gilberto Rodriguez sings and plays guitar, as Anthony Sul dances during during a vigil at The Utah State Capital for Corey Dee Kanosh, who was shot and killed by Millard County SheriffÕs Deputy Dale Josse, on the night of October 15, 2012, in the foothills just southeast of the Kanosh Band Reservation Community in Kanosh, UT, Monday, November 10, 2014