64 OregonStater.org THERESA HOGUE OUR COMMUNITY B A C K S T O R Y KEEPING THE FIRE THE STORY BEHIND OSU’S ANNUAL SALMON BAKE. By Taylor Pedersen Each spring, the smell of cedar smoke and roasted salmon drifts across Corvallis. For many Oregon State students, alumni and community members, the annual May salmon bake is a highlight of the year — a chance to share a delicious meal and gather in the heart of campus. But behind the celebration is a history of resilience and cultural continuity that stretches back more than 50 years. “It began as a fundraiser, but it was also a celebration of first foods and the spring salmon run,” said longtime organizer and Assistant Professor Luhui Whitebear, ’03, ’13, MAIS ’16, Ph.D. ’20. “Sharing salmon with the broader community is a way of honoring that history and showing collective generosity.” When the first OSU salmon bake took place in 1971, Oregon’s tribes were not federally recognized, which meant those Native students were ineligible for tribal scholarships.The bake began as a fundraiser to fill that gap, created by alumni, faculty and staff. But it was also a sign of the broader Native American activism of the times, which included victories worth celebrating. Court cases like U.S. v. Oregon (1969) and U.S. v. Washington (1974) affirmed tribal fishing rights in the Pacific Northwest — ensuring that salmon could be caught and brought to campus in the first place. The first Native American Longhouse opened on campus in 1973. Activists won the restoration of terminated tribes, including Oregon’s Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde, which regained recognition in 1983 after almost 30 years. The fire itself holds meaning. For years, salmon had to be cooked off campus or in ovens, until a determined student worked with the university to secure permission for a cultural fire on site. Today, Whitebear said, “keeping that fire burning in the heart of campus is one of the most powerful parts of the tradition.” For Chance White Eyes, ’07, OSU’s inaugural director of Tribal relations, the salmon bake carries both personal and communal weight. He recalls being introduced to salmon culture through a feast with Chinook families at the mouth of the Columbia River. “I didn’t eat anything but salmon that day,” he joked, “and I’ve been ruined for restaurant salmon ever since.” But, he said, there’s also a deeper lesson about care and responsibility. “The salmon’s life cycle is so difficult that to waste it is to disrespect that struggle. So, when we host a salmon bake, it’s not just food; it’s about health, community and making sure everyone is fed. That’s what makes it so important.” Both Whitebear and White Eyes emphasized that the event is a bridge between communities. It often coincides with OSU’s annual powwow, drawing huge lines and creating opportunities for non-Native students to experience traditions they may never have encountered before. “I hope people walk by, hear the drums, smell the salmon and ask, ‘What’s happening here?’” White Eyes said. For Whitebear, tradition also comes with responsibility. “We have to help keep that cultural fire burning across generations,” she said. “That’s what the salmon bake represents: honoring the past, caring for the present and carrying knowledge forward into the future.” ↓ The annual salmon bake (seen here in 2013) draws long lines.
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