GUILDERLAND — Children gathered purposefully the morning of Oct. 21, bundled against the chill air; they sat on logs arranged in a circle around a glowing fire.

The fourth-graders at Lynnwood Elementary School had spent the week learning about the Iroquois by building a replica village; this was the closing ceremony. They were surrounded by their work.
"The kids, with help from some parents, built this in a day," Principal James Dillon told The Enterprise earlier in the week. They fashioned a longhouse out of bark-covered planks. They built a stockade by lashing together limbs, dragged from the surrounding woods.

Pretend animal skins were stretched on a frame of limbs at one end of the compound and, at the other, stood a replica of a Three Sisters Garden, with tall shocks of corn and bright orange pumpkins.
"Our democracy was based in part on the Iroquois government," Dillon had explained the year the project was started, in 1999. "The Iroquois had the idea of respecting other people and respecting the earth...The Native Americans would sit in a circle and talk things out."

And so the fourth-graders, playing the part of the Iroquois, sat on this Friday morning.

Among the ring of onlookers was Corrine Falope who helped initiate the project six years ago and has since retired as a Lynnwood teacher.
"I wouldn’t miss this for the world," she said. "It’s my baby." She praised the current teachers — Valerie Perotta, Kristen Jenne, Shannon Tougher, and Nell Ball — who are carrying on the project that she and Liz Augstell and John Miller, a special-education teacher still working on the project, had started.

Falope was especially appreciative that, with all the new state and federal testing requirements, the Lynnwood teachers were still making time for experiential learning. The state requires teaching local and state history in the fourth grade.
"It’s a lot of work, but it’s the best way for kids to learn — hands-on," she said.
Falope recalled how the girls in her class, in keeping with the matriarchal Iroquois tradition, enjoyed choosing the leaders. "I’d say, ‘We’re not choosing who’s cute,’ and they chose well."
They learned about leadership by reading the Native American legend, "How the Coyote Stole the Sun," which tells of a land without sun, where people are dying. The crane is cautious about finding a solution, but the coyote is bold. He finds a place where the sun shines all the time, and he steals it. Then he realizes some darkness is needed and figures a way the sun can rotate.

This year’s clan mothers, five girls, stood before the assembled throng and read a poem of thanks to Mother Earth.
"We’re culminating a wonderful week of immersing ourselves in Iroquois culture," said Ball. "We were all able to get along and work for the common good. We learned how the Haudensaunee lived 400 to 500 years ago."
"I learned..."
She asked the children to share what they had learned by passing a "talking stick" among themselves. As each fourth-grader spoke, the crowd would quiet, then the stick would be passed to another.

The week had included lessons in native pottery, games like wrestling and lacrosse, making ribbon shirts and corn-husk dolls, and learning about artifacts and technology.
"I learned that when the Iroquois or Haudensaunee were building the longhouse, they had to have a ton of people and work together," said one fourth-grader, sporting a Boston Red Sox baseball cap.
"I learned the Indians were a lot of men and women who survived and did a lot of hard work," said a boy.
Another boy stood as he held the talking stick and said, "I learned that back then there were no schools and there was no technology. The kids were home-schooled and they had to make all of this. They had to make pots out of clay that would come from a river and they had no homes like we do."

Someone from the crowd asked the boy who held the floor where the Iroquois got their food.
"They got their food from animals — fish and deers," he replied promptly, before passing the talking stick to a girl with a ponytail.
"I learned about the Three Sisters — corn, squash, and beans," she said of the traditional garden. "They even had a ceremony when it was being planted."
Another girl told of how she had dug by a creek near her house and found "a little bit" of clay.
"I learned how to make the rope from the inside of a tree and it just amazed me," said another girl.
"I learned, if you were born into a clan, that was your clan and if you married, you would go into the girl’s clan, the wife’s clan, but you could still visit your clan if you were a man," said a fourth-grade girl.
Another girl said she has learned, "If you didn’t work together, you wouldn’t be able to survive very well."

The dilemma

As the children shared their experiences, the sound of a flute and a drum could be heard in the distance. The music came closer and the children, in a great wave of curiosity, turned to look toward the sounds. Gasps and pointing greeted a band of grownups, emerging from a leaf-strew path.

One man carried a white flag, another a scroll. Principal Dillon was dressed in a scarlet cape.
"Do you know who they are"" the children were asked.
"Our teachers!" came one answer.
"Greetings, we come in peace from a far-away land," said the man carrying the white flag.
"They’re Europeans!" shouted a fourth-grader, as murmurs raced through the crowd.
"We end every year with the European invaders coming through the woods," Dillon had told The Enterprise earlier. "They know who it is on some level," he said of the children recognizing himself and the staff members in costume, "but they play along.
"They spend the week here in this village. They built it and they have a fondness for it. This makes them think about ownership."

Friday morning, as one European read a proclamation in a foreign tongue, another hooded figure in a dark robe stood aside coughing, perhaps to represent the diseases Europeans brought to Native Americans.
"We come to you bringing things we will trade for your land," said the flag-bearer, spreading a paisley cloth on the ground, placing on it "jewels and trinkets," a pot made of iron, and "magic glass" — a mirror.

At the same time, some of the invaders went inside the longhouse.
"They’re stealing," called out one boy.

The chiefs — boys decked out in paper headdresses and fringed garments replicating buckskin — talked with the Europeans.

Then, as suddenly as they had come, the band of invaders retreated, saying they would return for an answer.

The decision
"They want our land," said Ball. "Is it our land""
"I’ll fight for it," proclaimed one boy forcefully.
"We have these strangers bringing many things we’ve never seen before — pots not made out of clay, shiny objects," said Ball. "Should we trade with them""
"No!" came the resounding reply.

Then the talking stick was passed from child to child, this time with more urgency.
"Just kill ’em," said the first boy to get the stick.
"I think we shouldn’t do it; I think we should trade," said the girl who spoke next.
"I think we should take it down and move to a different place," said the boy who spoke after her, gesturing to the village around him.
"I think we should settle this with war," said the next boy.
"I think we should share," said a boy in a New York Yankees cap.
"We shouldn’t trade," said the boy who spoke so eloquently early on about the Iroquois way of life. "It’s nice stuff but we have something better."
"Steal their guns," said another boy.
"Make peace," said yet another.
"I think we should take the nice things and then attack them," said another boy.
"We don’t own this land," said a girl, who advocated moving on.
"I think we should, like, just make peace," said another girl. "We should share the land. They could have another place."
"We have many different viewpoints," concluded Ball. "Some people say we should go to war —"
Her words were interrupted with cheers and cries of, "Yeah!"
Ball continued, unruffled, "Some say share the land. Some say move on..."
Her voice was solemn as she went on, "War means that you loose people. And you have just told us that the Haudenosaunee did well because they worked together...The people lost in war are the men who make the longhouse and kill the venison. We will not survive if we lose them...
"Many said we should take down the village and move on and that’s what they would have done. They valued their friends and the people in their tribes."
Ball then looked to the tribal chiefs and asked, "Chiefs, what do you think we should do" We’ll listen to what our leaders say."
A chief, played by Matthew Cerutti, stood and addressed the crowd. "We should move on and look for a new place," he said.
"The chief has spoken," said Ball. "We will share in a meal...from Mother Earth."

A final lesson

Cider that had been warming in a pot over the fire was passed out as were cornbread and muffins. The kids eagerly ate the food and a random banter filled the hollow as the walking stick lay still.

Then a teacher raised her hand to quiet the crowd. She said groups would form to take down the village but that she was disappointed in the children’s behavior after spending a week learning about the Iroquois’ emphasis on sharing.
"The idea of sharing a meal means waiting till you are served," she said. "I was a little surprised when children were asking for seconds while others hadn’t yet been served.
"I want to hear what you’re thankful for, so we can wrap this up on a positive note before we take down this beautiful village we built together."

With that the talking stick came out again.
"I’m thankful for all the nice friends and people that helped us build the longhouse," said a fourth-grader.
Then Ball concluded, "We’re thankful for the great job all of you did working together."