We are the grandchildren of wise women, healers, whores, witches and pagans burned and murdered at the altar of progress and civilization. When we go within we can perceive the totality of our history. It is not the history of experts, of the university. It is the story of our collective resistance, it is the endurance of sacred ways with which traditional peoples have lived with the land, in humility and respect for the universe. History, as produced by the university, has been written to create the idea that our stories are divergent and disconnected. The communal storyteller knows better, she knows that in the convergence of our histories we find ourselves and each other. In our convergent stories we can begin to grieve and root our communal resistance.