After two long years of virtual gatherings, the Mother Tongue Film Festival has finally returned in person. From February 23 to 26, 2023, the National Mall in Washington, D.C., became a vibrant stage to celebrate International Mother Language Day—showcasing a vivid and moving collection of films in native tongues. This festival invites us to reflect on the layered meaning of “coming home,” a theme that resonates deeply across cultures and generations.
“Home” is not just a place on a map; it’s a rich, multidimensional experience that encompasses body, spirit, and emotion. It can be a piece of land, a melody, a prayer, a feeling, or a language. This year’s festival features 27 films from 12 regions and 23 languages, each offering unique perspectives on what “home” truly means.
One of the most compelling stories comes from Aotearoa New Zealand, where the Māori are reclaiming a lost tradition of celestial navigation. The film Whetū Mārama (Bright Star) tells the story of legendary wayfinder Hek Busby, who reignited the ancient knowledge of reading stars—a skill lost to colonial oppression for centuries. For the Māori, the stars are more than navigation tools; they embody a profound cultural identity and a connection to ancestors. Rediscovering this knowledge is nothing short of a spiritual homecoming.
This powerful resurgence of tradition is not isolated. In Northern California, a young Karuk girl named Ahty undergoes a ceremonial rite of passage into womanhood after a 120-year pause due to violent disruptions from the Gold Rush era. The documentary Long Line of Ladies captures her journey—a deeply personal revival of community wisdom and belonging. Through these rituals, Ahty connects with the generations of women who came before her, embracing a lineage of strength and resilience.
Yet the path home can be fraught with pain and complexity. Forced displacement and cultural erasure have left deep scars on Indigenous communities worldwide. The documentary Daughter of a Lost Bird follows Kendra Potter, who grew up unaware of her Lummi Native American heritage after being adopted by a white family in Portland, Oregon. When she reunites with her birth mother after decades, Kendra confronts the trauma of cultural loss and wrestles with what belonging means for her newly reclaimed identity. Her story echoes the emotional journeys of countless Indigenous descendants caught between worlds.
Home also rings as an inner call—an unyielding voice within us all. The 2019 peaceful protests to protect Maunakea, Hawaii’s most sacred mountain, are a profound example. Native Hawaiians stood united to resist the construction of telescopes that desecrate their holy land. The short documentary Like a Mighty Wave chronicles the dedication and sacrifice of elders arrested during the protests. Their courage transcends the personal, symbolizing a collective vow to protect culture, land, and spirit. Here, home is not just a location but a sacred responsibility.
These stories reveal that “coming home” is neither simple nor idealized. It is a journey marked by light and shadow, joy and hardship. The idea of home goes beyond geography—it is a complex voyage of awakening, healing, and commitment. Every person responds to this call in their own way, searching for the place, feeling, or identity where they belong.
In everyday life, these themes resonate too. Take Amy from Seattle, a city dweller with Finnish roots. Her grandmother passed down Finnish stories and traditions, and Amy makes it a point to return to her ancestral village every winter for the traditional sauna ritual. For her, these moments offer more than relaxation—they are a reconnection with her heritage, a spiritual anchor amid modern life’s chaos.
The festival’s stories and everyday lives alike teach us that home is dynamic, layered, and deeply emotional. It challenges us to honor both the beautiful and difficult parts of our histories and identities. Ultimately, home is the steady call that guides us to cherish the cultural and emotional ties that shape who we are.
