Embracing my power as a woman through the Ihuk ceremony

Ahtyirahm Allen in the film “Long Line of Ladies,” which documents her Ihuk ceremony. Photo credit: Rayka Zehtabchi and Shaandiin Tome.

15-year-old Ahtyirahm Allen, writes about how her Ihuk ceremony, a coming-of-age tradition for young women, helped her gain a sense of power through her indigenous identity and embrace her power as a woman.

Summer means ceremony season for our Karuk tribe in Northern California — and the Ihuk always kind of kicks it off. The Ihuk, or Flower Dance Ceremony, is a Karuk coming of age ceremony that celebrates when a young girl gets her first period and transitions into a young woman. Growing up, my siblings, cousins and I would travel upriver to the villages we come from almost every weekend throughout summer to attend the Ihuk and other ceremonies,  and to reconnect with the land. 

And then two years ago, it was finally time to have a ceremony of my own. 

Growing up, I always knew it would one day be my turn to have my Ihuk but now that the time had come I found that I felt ready and not as nervous as I thought I would be . The ceremony involves many days of singing, dancing, storytelling and collective prayer. It also means spending time away from my immediate family and being cared for by other women who are there to support and guide me and give me advice.  As the Ihuk girl, I was also responsible every day to complete tasks that help to prepare me mentally for the things I may face in my lifetime. 

To get ready for my Ihuk, I worked together with my family and extended family on all the things we needed for the ceremony. Not only did we need to make culturally significant items like my maple bark skirt and feather blinder, we also had to clean and prepare the dance grounds, plan a menu and shop for things we would need at camp for the week. We also got together regularly to practice the songs and the dance.

I have seen the women around me having these celebrations my whole life, but there was a time when the women of my family who came before me didn’t get to hold the Ihuk.

First contact with non-native people happened in the 1850’s along the Lower Klamath River in far Northern California where my tribe is from and colonization quickly put a stop to many of our cultural practices and gatherings. Many of these things started coming back in the 1970’s and 1980’s, but it wasn’t until 1997 that the Ihuk ceremony was brought back thanks to the hard work of our elders. This ceremony was one of the first to go because they wanted to protect our young women from the influx of gold miners who were coming to the area. I am very grateful that the Ihuk ceremony has since become a part of my people’s way of life again. It is hard for me to imagine that my own mother and grandmother grew up without this ceremony because I feel like this ceremony has truly shaped who I am.

The overarching feeling I had throughout my whole Ihuk experience was the feeling of love. Throughout the preparation and ceremony I could see and feel the love everyone involved has for me and all the young people in our tribe. The ceremony gives me the chance to learn lessons from the experience and reflect on the advice that so many shared with me during this time. The main takeaways that I had from my experience were to always advocate for myself, ask the spirit for guidance and strength when I need it, and know that there are lots of people who support and love me who I can lean on when I need help.

“It’s empowering that I am able to practice something that my ancestors did despite colonization. I want more young women to know that as you come into this time in your life... you can instead embrace the power that you now have as a young woman. ”

— Ahtyirahm Allen

One thing different about my Ihuk was that our family agreed to document my story on film and share some of these personal moments with the world. The filmmakers had worked on another film that shared about menstrual inequities and they wanted to now make a film about positive experiences around periods and this time in a young persons life. In their research they found that Indigenous Native American communities had ceremonies that celebrated and honored menstruation since before contact and that is how they came to find out about my community's efforts at revitalizing our version of this celebration.  While it was scary at times to share these vulnerable moments, I knew in the long run it would be important. Too often young women in other communities have negative experiences around their periods. I felt it was important to share a story where young women were empowered at this time in their lives. The result was the film “Long Line of Ladies,” directed by Rayka Zehtabchi and Shaandiin Tome, which recently premiered on The New York Times website. 

While it is my responsibility to pass on this tradition to generations to come, I don’t view it as a burden. To me it’s empowering that I am able to practice something that my ancestors did despite colonization. I want more young women to know that as you come into this time in your life instead of feeling the shame that society tries to put on you, you can instead embrace the power that you now have as a young woman. For me, I also started to see the role that I could have not only in my family but in my community, too.

“Long Line of Ladies" intimately observes the months-long process of Ahtyirahm, her family, and their tight-knit Karuk community as they come together to prepare for her Ihuk, the coming-of-age ceremony for girls.

The place where the ceremony is held is very important to me because it is where me and my cousins grew up together and it holds some of my most important memories. The village where we hold this ceremony is along the banks of the Salmon River, and when you walk on the grounds you can see where the house pits were located before contact and there are rock piles from previous ceremonies scattered about. This place watched over us as we grew up and continues to take care of us as we get older. It watched us go from chasing around baby frogs on the river bar to chasing around actual baby cousins and taking on more responsibilities around camp. The memories me and my cousins share have established our connection to this place and to one another. It also connects us to all those that came before us and those that will come after us. This connection has given me a foundation that helps me to understand who I am in this world. I know no matter what I do in my life, this foundation provides me the support and love to dream about my future.

Though it has been two years now since my ceremony, the film allows me to revisit that time and I often think about the positive impact this tradition has had on me and my family. Even if young people don’t have a tradition like this they grew up with, I hope that my story can inspire others to celebrate and support one another. Whether it's with your family or a group of friends, making space and taking time to support one another is what makes people feel good about themselves and that is the love we need in this world.