Actual Thoughts about the Seven Fires and My Life in General...

As I thought about my previous post, I realized that I was writing more about everything in general and very little about the Seven Fires Prophecies. However, what I do think is that my life is working in time with the Seven Fires Prophecies. For the past three years, I have been retracing the footsteps of my ancestors. And, I have gained a greater understanding and respect for all ancient Native teachings.

When I decided to return to Nebraska. I wasn't quite sure where we were going to go next. It just seems like in the past two years, my kids and I have been in total upheaval since their dad walked out on us. It was good for them that they spent this past year with him. Hopefully, a lot of healing took place between them.

I am doing my best to be a good mother. I have accepted that I am doing this on my own without any help from their dad. (No bad feelings intended there, just the truth, I wish him well.) Today, as I am writing this, I feel really good because things really are starting to change around for us.

When I decided to move back to Lincoln, I wasn't sure at first that I was doing the right thing. Everything felt weird and I just felt lost. Then I went to sundance held near Hallam, Nebraska and danced for two days. The man who runs this sundance is Hermus Lonedog and he is a very compassionate man. Sundancing made a great difference because I also accepted that I am truly walking my path now and am making my own decisions about how my life will be...in accordance with the Grandfathers.

That was over a month ago and now that we are in the shelter, we are receiving all the assistance for families in transition. We are starting all over from scratch.

I've been networking like crazy and getting a lot of support from colleagues and former teachers. My relatives here have also been very helpful.

I am writing curriculum for the LIED Center for Performing Arts for the upcoming performance of Kevin Locke in November. This curriculum is to be a Nebraska equivalent to the Kevin's curriculum "the Drum is the Thunder, the Flute is the Wind." I am also looking at becoming an ArtsREACH Teaching Artist through the LIED Center.

Yesterday, I was readmitted to the Graduate Studies Program at UNL. I will be taking two classes in Special Ed. so that I can renew my teaching certificate. I will start working on my Master's Degree, once again, and am looking at the possibility of Special Education/Early Childhood Education.

What I marvel at is how everything this past week has been like butter. When just the week before, everything was so difficult. I didn't know how we were going to get through.

So, here we are now...

As I am thinking of everything today, I am truly thankful for the Grandfathers' help in everything. My children and I are blessed.

I reflect back to what the Grand Chief, Bawdwaywidun, (Eddie Benton-Benaise) said at the Three Fires Society Spring Ceremonies in June, up by the shores of Lake Superior. He asked everyone in the lodge, are we the new people of the Seventh Fire? ARE WE?

Yes, I accept that I am one of the New People of the Seventh Fire.

Thoughts on the Seven Fires Prophecies...

For all of you's who may not know, I've been doing my thing here back in my hometown of Lincoln, Nebraska. My kids and I are living at the Peoples City Mission Family Shelter until we get a house. Lots has changed in my life, once again. Need I say more?

Job prospects are good. I'm seeking employment with the Lincoln Public Schools. Finally going to put my degree to good use. I've got my kids enrolled in the public schools. I had to overcome my reluctance to work with the public school system. If I cannot change this system, perhaps I can help in some way to work with Native students.

I am continuing my work on my language school. In fact, I have changed the name from Shonge Xube Tapuska to Path of the Sun. In the Omaha Huthuga (Tribal Circle) the center line that balanced the two moieties, the Sky People and the Earth People, was called the Path of the Sun. The name changed resulted from a speech I heard by Jerry Lopez, Director of the Multicultural Indigenous Academy of St. Paul, Minnesota last spring. His perseverance and vision has provided so much inspiration to me.

I am missing the Summer Ceremonies this week. The Three Fires Midewiwin Lodge are gathering in Manitoba. I feel the longing to be there with them in my heart. So I thought I'd post this about the Seven Fires Prophecies.

Teachings of the Seven Prophets: The Seven Fires

Note: The following was asked to be read by Elder William Commanda at the Aboriginal Learning Network Constituency Meeting of Elders, policy makers, and academics on April 16th and 17th, 1997 in Aylner, Quebec.

The source for this story is The Mishomis book : the voice of the Ojibway by Edward Benton-Banai. Printed in St. Paul, Minn. Published by Indian Country Press, copyright 1979.

Seven prophets came to the Anishinabe. They came at a time when the people were living a full and peaceful life on the North Eastern coast of North America. These prophets left the people with seven predictions of what the future would bring. Each of the prophecies was called a fire and each fire referred to a particular era of time that would come in the future. Thus, the teachings of the seven prophets are now called the "Seven Fires".

The first prophet said to the people,

"In the time of the First Fire, the Anishinabe nation will rise up and follow the sacred shell of the Midewiwin Lodge. The Midewiwin Lodge will serve as a rallying point for the people and its traditional ways will be the source of much strength. The Sacred Megis will lead the way to the chosen ground of the Anishinabe. You are to look for a turtle shaped island that is linked to the purification of the earth. You will find such an island at the beginning and end of your journey. There will be seven stopping places along the way. You will know the chosen ground has been reached when you come to a land where food grows on water. If you do not move you will be destroyed."

The second prophet told the people,

"You will know the Second Fire because at this time the nation will be camped by a large body of water. In this time the direction of the Sacred Shell will be lost. The Midewiwin will diminish in strength. A boy will be born to point the way back to the traditional ways. He will show the direction to the stepping stones to the future of the Anishinabe people."

The third prophet said to the people,

"In the Third Fire the Anishinabe will find the path to their chosen ground, a land in the west to which they must move their families. This will be the land where food grounds on water."

The Fourth Fire was originally given to the people by two prophets. They come as one. They told of the coming of the light skinned race.

One of the prophets said,

"You will know the future of out people by the face of the light skinned race wears. If they come wearing the face of brotherhood then there will come a time of wonderful change for generations to come. They will bring new knowledge and articles that can be joined with the knowledge of this country. In this way, two nations will join to make a mighty nation. This new nation will be joined by two more so that four will for the mightiest nation of all. You will know the face of the brotherhood if the light skinned race comes carrying no weapons, if they come bearing only their knowledge and a hand shake."

The other prophet said,

"Beware if the light skinned race comes wearing the face of death. You must be careful because the face of brotherhood and the face of death look very much alike. If they come carrying a weapon ... beware. If they come in suffering ... They could fool you. Their hearts may be filled with greed for the riches of this land. If they are indeed your brothers, let them prove it. Do not accept then in total trust. You shall know that the face they wear is one of death if the rivers run with poison and fish become unfit to eat. You shall know them by these many things."

The fifth prophet said,

"In the time of the Fifth Fire there will come a time of great struggle that will grip the lives of all native people. At the waring of this Fire there will come among the people one who holds a promise of great joy and salvation. If the people accept this promise of a new way and abandon the old teachings, then the struggle of the Fifth Fire will be will be with the people for many generations. The promise that comes will prove to be a false promise. All those who accept this promise will cause the near destruction of the people."

The prophet of the Sixth Fire said,

"In the time of the Sixth Fire it will be evident that the promise of the First Fire cam in in a false way. Those deceived by this promise will take their children aways from the teachings of the Elders. Grandsons and granddaughters will turn against the Elders. In this way the Elders will lose their reason for living ... they will lose their purpose in life. At this time a new sickness will come among the people. The balance of may people will be disturbed. The cup of life will almost become the cup of grief."

At the time of these predictions, many people scoffed at the prophets. They then had medicines to keep away sickness. They were then healthy and happy as a people. These were the people who chose to stay behind in the great migration of the Anishinabe. These people were the first to have contact with the light skinned race. They would suffer most.

When the Fifth Fire came to pass, a great struggle did indeed grip the lives of all native people. The light skinned race launched a military attack on the Indian people throughout the country aimed at taking away their land and their independence as a free and sovereign people. It is now felt that the false promise that came at the end of the Fifth Fire was the materials and riches embodied in the way of life of the light skinned race. Those who abandoned the ancient ways and accepted this new promise were a big factor in causing the near destruction of the native people of this land.

When the Sixth Fire came to be, the words of the prophet rang true as children were taken away from the teachings of the Elders. The boarding school era of "civilizing" Indian children had begun. The Indian language and religion were taken from the children. The people started dying at a early age ... they had lost their will to live and their purpose in living.

In the confusing times of the Sixth Fire, it is said that a group of visionaries came among the Anishinabe. They gathered all the priests of the Midewiwin Lodge. They told the priests of the Midewiwin Way was in danger of being destroyed. They gathered all the sacred bundles. They gathered all the scrolls that recorded the ceremonies. All these things were placed in a hollowed out log from the Ironwood tree. Men were lowered over a cliff by long ropes. They dug a hole in the cliff and buried the log where no one could find it. Thus the teachings of the Elders were hidden out of sight but not out of memory. It is said that when the time came that the Indian people could practice their religion without fear a line boy would dream where the Ironwood log, full of sacred bundles and scrolls, was buried. He would lead his people to the place.

The seventh prophet that came to the people long ago said to be different from the other prophets. He was young and had a strange light in his eyes. He said,

"In the time of the Seventh Fire New People will emerge. They will retrace their steps to find what was left by the trail. Their steps will take them to the Elders who they will ask to guide them on their journey. But many of the Elders will have fallen asleep. They will awaken to this new time with nothing to offer. Some of the Elders will be silent because no one will ask anything of them. The New People will have to be careful in how they approach the Elders. The task of the New People will not be easy.

"If the New People will remain strong in their quest the Water Drum of the Midewiwin Lodge will again sound its voice. There will be a rebirth of the Anishinabe Nation and a rekindling of old flames. The Sacred Fire will again be lit.

"It is this time that the light skinned race will be given a choice between two roads. If they choose the right road, then the Seventh Fire will light the Eighth and final Fire, an eternal fire of peace, love brotherhood and sisterhood. If the light skinned race makes the wrong choice of the roads, then the destruction which they brought with then in coming to this country will come back at them and cause much suffering and death to all the Earth's people."

Traditional Mide people of Ojibway and people from other nations have interpreted the "two roads" that face the light skinned race as the road to technology and the other road to spiritualism. They feel that the road to technology represents a continuation of headlong rush to technological development. This is the road that has led to modern society, to a damaged a seared Earth. Could it be that the road to technology represents a rush to destruction? The road to spirituality represents the slower path that traditional native people have traveled and are now seeking again. This Earth is not scorched on this trail. The grass is still growing there.

The prophet of the Fourth Fire spoke of a time when

"two nations will join to make a mighty nation."

He was speaking of the coming of the light skinned race and the face of brotherhood that the light skinned Brother could be wearing. It is obvious from the history of this country that this was not the face worn by the light skinned race as a whole. That might nation spoken of in the Fourth Fire has never been formed.

If the Natural people of the Earth could just wear the face of brotherhood, we might be able to deliver our society from the road to destruction. Could we make the two roads that today represent two clashing world views come together to form a mighty nation? Could a Nation be formed that is guided by respect for all living things? Are we the people of the Seventh Fire?

Ellen Moves Camp--Hero of Wounded Knee...

Ellen Moves Camp—Hero of Wounded Knee
By Stephanie Hedgecoke
Published Jun 8, 2008 9:34 PM

Photo: Anne Pearse Hocker

Ellen Moves Camp, known along with Gladys Bissonnette as the “Grandmas of the American Indian Movement (AIM),” passed April 5 at the age of 77 on Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. Moves Camp and Bissonnette played key roles before, during and after the 1973 occupation of Wounded Knee, which moved the Indigenous struggle into the view of the whole world.

The struggles of Indigenous people globally are illustrated in the story of Ellen Moves Camp and Wounded Knee.

The Lakota Nation’s title to most of South Dakota and parts of Montana and Nebraska, including the Black Hills (Paha Sapa), was recognized in the 1868 Fort Laramie Treaty. George Armstrong Custer took miners to the Black Hills to find gold and the U.S. broke the treaty and stole 34 million acres of land, leaving the Lakota divided among separate reservations. Over time that land base was further eroded as the Oglala Lakota were forced to lease their land to ranchers for pennies.

In the 1970s, the federal government moved Oglala families into cluster housing to reduce spending on utilities, freeing more land to be leased by cattle ranchers. Meanwhile over 100 Indians had been murdered in racist white towns surrounding Pine Ridge.

Unemployment was at 90 percent. Traditional families and activists were attacked by the Bureau of Indian Affairs-installed reservation government of Dick Wilson and his paramilitary GOONs (Guardians of the Oglala Nation), armed by the FBI. Wilson signed over some 200,000 acres of land to the U.S. for a bombing range.
Underlying these events, the U.S. had secret plans to turn the Paha Sapa into a “National Sacrifice Zone.” The continent’s richest deposits of weapons-grade uranium lie under the bombing range. Uranium and coal were to be mined, over 188,000 acres destroyed, and incredibly toxic smog and debris would have poisoned the region and destroyed countless square miles of waterways and ponds.

Energy companies signed up to create dozens of coal-fired plants to surround the Black Hills and build a “nuclear energy park” of 25 reactors. Test drilling began on a huge scale. Leaking uranium poisoned the aquifer, the only source of drinking water.

Resistance at Wounded Knee

On the basis of estimates of half a billion dollars in uranium revenue, the U.S. was determined to eliminate AIM and traditional opposition. But the strength of resistance at Wounded Knee forced the Interior Department to retreat from some of its plans.

In 1973 traditional elders with the Oglala Sioux Civil Rights Organization (OSCRO) called AIM to Pine Ridge to protect the people from the GOONs. Denied access to the BIA building at Pine Ridge by federal marshals, AIM held a meeting at Calico with 600 supporters where 1,500 grievances against the BIA and Wilson were taken in a two-day meeting. Then traditional elders Ellen Moves Camp and Gladys Bissonnette stood and challenged the men to take action.

AIM warrior Dennis Banks said of that meeting: “The decision to take Wounded Knee came when Ellen Moves Camp pointed at us and said, ‘What are you men going to do about it?’ If the women hadn’t done that we’d still be meeting at Calico.”

Clyde Bellecourt recalled Bissonnette asking AIM, “Haven’t you heard enough? Go back to Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Los Angeles or Portland. We are going to stand here and be warriors.” He said that he “was stunned by that confrontation with an elderly woman, wrinkles all over her face.”

Wounded Knee was chosen for the takeover protest as it was still held by the Lakota community. The village is the site of the 1890 historic massacre of Big Foot’s band of 300 Lakota Sioux women, men and children as they were peacefully moving to the Pine Ridge Reservation to avoid starvation. Instead, they were viciously murdered by the U.S. Army Seventh Cavalry in the snow. The world had heard of Wounded Knee through Dee Brown’s book, “Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee.”

Some 200 Native people went to Wounded Knee on Feb. 27, 1973, to hold an early morning press conference. The government attacked. The press conference was never held. And the big business media did not report the total government deployment of 17 armored personnel carriers, 130,000 rounds of M-16 ammunition, 41,000 rounds of M-40 high explosives for grenade launchers, helicopters and other aircraft. An army assault unit in Colorado was put on 24-hour alert.

The standoff held the attention of the world. Support committees formed to help educate non-Native people about the conditions of the Indigenous on the reservations, and the significance of Native American Indian culture, language and the land in the fight against genocide.

During the 71-day struggle against the U.S. military assault of the National Guard and armed FBI agents, Moves Camp served as negotiator for the protesters with the Justice Department. As Banks recalls: “Once the strength was reawakened with the Oglalas, they became the principal negotiators—especially the women. Because it was their future. From there, AIM took a backseat. The further we stepped back, the further the Oglalas stepped forward.”

Moves Camp was from Wanblee and had lost family members in the 1898 massacre. During the military assault in 1973, her nephew Buddy Lamont was one of two Indians killed. On the occasion of the 1998 commemoration of the struggle, Ellen Moves Camp said it’s “just a matter of time before another Wounded Knee and ... a violent confrontation with the U.S. government.”

On the loss of Ellen Moves Camp, Native political prisoner Leonard Peltier said: “Those of us who really knew her will dearly miss her as she was a big inspiration to all of us. She loved and fought for her People and the Nation without ever once that I know of complaining or asking for something for her personal use.”
Ellen Moves Camp stands as an inspiration to Indigenous people in struggle everywhere.

Sources include articles by Ian Record, Lakota Student Alliance; Jon Lurie’s article on the 25th anniversary of Wounded Knee for the Pulse of the Twin Cities; and the Sioux Falls Argus Leader.

State may be asked to help in Macy dispute

Published Saturday May 17, 2008
State may be asked to help in Macy dispute
BY PAUL HAMMEL
WORLD-HERALD BUREAU

LINCOLN — The attorney for the Macy, Neb., school district said Friday that the Attorney General's Office may be asked to intervene in a dispute between the school district and the Omaha Tribal Council over the status of school Superintendent Morris Bates.

Bates on Wednesday was escorted off the Omaha Indian Reservation by members of the Tribal Council and tribal police and told to never return.

That action followed a meeting of the Omaha Nation School Board in which a motion to fire Bates was made but never seconded.

The school board member who made the unsuccessful motion, Barry Webster, also is a member of the Tribal Council. He and the tribal chairman, Ansley Griffing, led the contingent that expelled Bates, according to minutes of the school board meeting.

Attempts to reach Bates at his home in Homer, Neb., were unsuccessful.

Webster said the Tribal Council was exerting its sovereignty rights, expelling the superintendent due to poor test scores of Omaha Nation students.

"It should have been done a long time ago," he said.

John Recknor, the school district's attorney, said the Tribal Council has no jurisdiction over employment of staff of the school, which is a state entity.

Bates, he said, just received a two-year contract extension from the six-member school board, a majority of whom believes the superintendent is doing a good job.

Recknor said he was instructed by the school board, during an emergency meeting Thursday, to send a letter to the Tribal Council informing them of the "real mess" they have created.

He said summer school would be canceled because of the removal of Bates, who must be paid because of the new contract. State funding and the status of federal grants administered by Bates also are imperiled, Recknor said.

Recknor said he hoped the Tribal Council would reverse its action against Bates and back off a threat to expel two other school administrators. If not, he said he might ask the attorney general to step in.

Omaha Nation Schools superintendent removed from reservation

Omaha Nation Schools superintendent removed from reservation
BY DOLLY A. BUTZ / Sioux City Journal
Friday, May 16, 2008 - 07:10:25 pm CDT

MACY — The Omaha Tribal Council has removed the Omaha Nation Public
Schools superintendent from the reservation and asked that two
principals be dismissed from their positions for unstated reasons, the
school’s lawyer said Friday.

John Recknor, an attorney based in Lincoln who represents the school,
said the school board was meeting Wednesday when a board member moved
that Superintendent Morris Bates be fired immediately. Recknor said the
motion was never seconded. A short time later, he said, members of the
Tribal Council ordered Bates off of the reservation.

“A couple members of the Tribal Council, including the board member,
came in and handed him a piece of paper saying that he needed to get
off of the reservation immediately, and that he should resign or they
would remove him from the reservation,” he said.

Recknor said the Tribal Council also produced a motion asking to
dismiss high school principal David Friedli and special education
director Mary Wilson from their positions. Unlike Bates, he said the
two were not ordered to leave the reservation. All three staff members
are under contract, according to Recknor.

Sioux City Journal reporters made numerous phone calls to the Omaha
Tribal Council office in Macy but were unable to speak with anyone
about this issue.

Recknor said Bates was escorted out of the meeting by a tribal police
officer, allowed to gather his things from his office and told to leave
the reservation.

Then, at 10 a.m. Thursday, the Tribal Council held a meeting in which
three council members voted in favor of a motion to remove the three
Omaha Nation school officials. Those council members were: Barry
Webster, Amen Sheridan and Sterling Walker, according to meeting
minutes.

One member, Rodney Morris, voted against the motion, saying he felt the
school board should make the decision, not the Tribal Council. Council
member Ansley Griffin did not vote on the motion, and two council
members, Mitchell Parker and Tim Grant, did not attend the meeting.

Recknor said the school is unaware of any wrongdoing alleged against
Bates and said the Tribal Council has not provided a reason for his
dismissal, or that of Friedli and Wilson.

“He’s still our superintendent,” Recknor said. “We have no grounds or
desire for him not to be our superintendent.”

An emergency meeting was held Thursday afternoon at the school. Recknor
said Broderick Steed is temporarily acting as superintendent.

“I’ve never seen anything like this in my life,” he said. “Basically,
this appears to be usurpation of the school district’s power.”

Ojibway leader blames racism for holding back natives

Here is a recent Anishinabe news story (May 8th), posted on the front page of the local Sault Star (Bawating):

Ojibway leader blames racism for holding back natives — COMMENT ON THIS STORY
Posted By Michael Purvis

Racism, passed down over generations, still prevents native youth from getting the kind of education they deserve, says a prominent Ojibway educator and an early leader in the American Indian Movement.

Eddie Benton-Banai addressed teachers, principals and school administrators from a variety of Northern Ontario boards on Thursday as the keynote speaker for a two-day symposium hosted by Algoma District School Board.

"I think the biggest (barrier) is long-standing stereotypes, generational racism as well," Benton-Banai told media. "People don't like to disagree with grandmothers, grandfathers even fathers and moms, you know."

He told of confronting one school board in the United States on its failure to pass any native students over a nine-year span.

"They never addressed the problem, but they came up with the classic answers: 'Well, you know those Indians, they don't want jobs. All they want to do is draw welfare, and the girls all they want to do is become pregnant so they can have bigger welfare cheques,' "said Benton-Banai. "Those were the answers from white, civilized, well-educated school boards."

"That wasn't true then, and it's not true today. . . . So those of you in education: deal with those stereotypes that you have been given from your parents and your grandparents," he said.

Benton-Banai pointed to another barrier, an overwhelming North American mainstream culture that is fortified by religion and politics, and to the "continuing exclusion," of other cultures from education.

There should be "curriculum about other people, not just about native people, but about other people. We don't know enough about each other and I think that's a big barrier," he said to reporters.

The government is working to correct those issues, said Education Minister Kathleen Wynne, who toured local schools on Thursday and was to address the symposium that evening.

"What I would say is, it is starting to happen in Ontario because we do have now this aboriginal education framework; there's more funding for native programming, and so that's the kind of work we're doing," said Wynne. "Are we finished? No, we've got more to do but we're off to a good start."

Wynne said a line has been added to the funding formula, with $15 million in ongoing funding set aside for programming in aboriginal education.
Chief Lyle Sayers, of Garden River First Nation, and Chief Dean Sayers, of Batchewana First Nation, told the symposium that curriculum based on the history of First Nations people in this region would go a long way toward engaging students.

Benton-Banai told the crowd that the American Indian Movement, which gained notoriety in the early 1970s with its bold approach to protest, "sprang to life" behind prison bars, with an idea "that we must build our pride (that) we cannot walk around these streets or work in these factories and work on these jobs without knowing who we are."

"From that small movement came a bigger movement that rolled onto the streets of Minneapolis, where the police were treating native people like the Gestapo treated the Jewish people in Germany, where every Friday and Saturday the police wagons and trucks rolled up to any place where Indian people congregated and threw them into the vans and into the trucks and trucked them off to jail, week after week after week," said Benton-Banai.

He said the resulting movement spread to other parts of the U.S. and led to what is now known as Anishinabe education.

Step by step tribal members bring awareness to Great Lakes

Posted: 5-5-2008

Josephine Mandamin, a member of the Ojibway First Nation tribe from Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada, carries a pail of Lake Michigan water while walking along Fruitvale Road in Montague last Monday on the Mother Earth Water Walk. Accompanying her is Josh Me Josephine Mandamin is a woman on a mission. In fact, she’s an Ojibway First Nation woman on a mission to preserve the Great Lakes for future generations. Her mission has been to create awareness of the lakes’ plight by walking around them - all five of them- from town to town carrying a pail of the lake water. She is joined by other tribal members and supporters. Last Monday she passed through the White Lake area on the Mother Earth Water Walk. Starting the morning at 3:30 a.m. and getting on the road by 4:30 a.m. each day of the walk, Mandamin and her fellow walkers, take shifts in traveling until sunset when the pail and staff of eagle feathers are put to rest at night. The group, which is followed by vans, takes rest days along the trip. In the final year of the six-year effort, the Mother Earth Water Walk is traveling around the southern end of Lake Michigan and along the Wisconsin shoreline from Manistee, Michigan to Hannaville, Michigan near Escanaba. This year’s walk began at the Little River Casino in Manistee on Saturday, April 26. Two days later they were in the White Lake area. At 9 a.m., Mandamin and her group were walking steadily along Fruitvale Road between Whitbeck Road and old U.S. 31. They plan to finish in Hannaville on May 11. “Lake Michigan has been very prostitutionalized by the money changers,” Mandamin, a resident of Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada, said. “Our water is not for sale.” Mandamin said the walk brings attention to the lakes for those who pass by. She said the lakes are like women who hold life inside them. “Water is life,” Mandamin added. The walkers pass out brochures explaining the Mother Earth Water Walk, providing simple facts about water and recommendations in preserving water. The Mother Earth Water Walk started in 2003 by circling Lake Superior. In 2004, the upper half of Lake Michigan was the route of the walk. In 2005 it moved to Lake Huron, then moved on to Lake Ontario in 2006 and Lake Erie in 2007.

Reflections on Healing, Renewal, and Living with Vows...

I have been on a healing journey to the heart since the day I was born. As a mother of four, a writer, and teacher, I am continually challenged to find new ideas and connect those ideas with our traditions. This is what has led me to the great state of Minnesota.

The first step to my own healing was the realization that I needed to be healthy. And, that meant I had to change! Quite an undertaking, I tell you. I mean, I have been alcohol and drug free for many years but that wasn’t enough. I was missing an important ingredient that had to do with my own self-determination and spirituality. My life became a disaster two years ago because I had just gone through separation and I was struggling to hold my family together.

So, I worked on myself--physically at first. I lost a lot of weight, adjusted my diet, etc. Then I worked on my mental attitude and began to see results from the shift in my consciousness reflected in everyone around me. I also went through therapy and traditional ceremonies to begin my emotional and spiritual healing as well. I dealt with issues of intergenerational trauma and faced them head on for the first time in my life.

Most of my trauma, I saw, centered on the concept of shame. Much of which wasn’t even my own. This was shame that had been passed down through generations from the time of first contact, I was certain. This element of shame coated everything in my life. I really believed that I had to hide my problems from everyone (and not air my dirty laundry so to speak). So I struggled to maintain a façade of success, while inside I was in so much pain. There were many times when I had the urge to just give up and start drinking again or to take anything just to feel numb. Ironically, it was only when I actually faced the ruins of my world that I was able to identify what I was really feeling. Then I saw the shame slide off my body like water draining from a basin. When it was gone, I felt so much lighter and free.

The renewal came when I actively sought out the ways of our ancestors. I began to ask questions that pertained to our identity as Native people and to our traditional practices. Some questions kept me awake night after night pondering: What does it mean to be Native in this contemporary time? Are we Native only during certain times of the day or week? Or is this something that we are 24/7?

People thought I was crazy and asked me why I even worried about such things. “Of course, we’re Native!” they said, “It’s in our DNA! Right?”

Well, once I started down this path, I couldn’t stop. It became my obsession and I wanted to find out if it is truly possible to live as a Native year round, without compromise. Where no one would actually question our inherent right to practice and develop our traditional ways in accordance to Native beliefs. Is this possible? I had to give it a try. My experience was quite challenging and revealing. Challenging because many people were opposed to the thought of how I was living. Revealing because I found out that in order to live by Native values, I had to let go of my own misconceptions of what that meant. But I did it for nearly two years. During this time, I homeschooled my children and worked from home part-time. And, I lived without many conveniences.

I spent two years examining the values that shaped me. From all of this self-examination, I posed these questions. How did our ancestors maintain their honor and conviction in everything they did? What did they do and how did they do it? I knew that the answer to this was the key to my own sanity.

The answer is that our ancestors walked with honor. That honor was held binding through the making of vows.

So, I decided to make vows to the Above, to the Grandfathers, to the Creator. These vows were to serve my people in the best way that I can. Now I became committed. My honor was called upon. And my honor became my shield…one that I walk with each day.

As I began to put my life back together as a single mother, I saw patterns. More realizations came that if we could all make our own vows, whatever they might be, wouldn’t this make a difference in the way we walked our own life paths? Particularly in maintaining our own sobriety and how we teach our children?

Living with vows means subscribing to principles that must be adhered to day and night. That’s how our ancestors lived.

Extremist that I am, it’s what I strive to follow. And, teach. And, of course the most important lesson for me in all of this is that I do so with my heart in my hand.

Ewithai Wongithe! All My Relations!

- Shonge Xube Wau (also known as Renee Sans Souci)

Return of the Thunders...

My latest poem I read on Friday, April 25 at the Spring Feast hosted by the Minnesota Indian Women's Resource Center.
















Return of the Thunders
By Renee Sans Souci

This is a sacred time!
Where life begins
In the balance of the universe
Blue for the Sky, Green for the Earth
Then all around us
The Life Givers dance and sing...

Our life circles began as one
Energy that is unending
Surrounding us with Beauty
Renewal time known as Spring
When the Thunder Beings come home
To remind us still...

That life and death are one
Ancient miracles that balance
The budding of the trees
And the falling of the leaves
Echoes of voices singing
Songs of Red and Black...

Our life circles breathe
Inhaling a new beginning
Exhaling to honor the past
Sacred Breath a gift to us
From the Thunders, Bringers of Life
Returning. Returning.

This is a sacred time!
Where life begins
In the Return of the Thunders
Red and Black,
Reflected everywhere
Welcome them! Welcome them!
They are home.

Happy I've Got My Kids Back!

My kids came back to me two weeks ago, after spending nearly a year with their dad, Charles.

Our marriage broke up two years ago and the divorce was finalized in September of 2007. We had no disputes over any property. My only request to him was that he make sure that his kids inherit his land in Pine Ridge.

The kids said that they enjoyed their time with their dad. He also said that he enjoyed every minute with them. It was a special time for all of them.

I can honestly say at this time that I hold no rancor toward their father. We spent almost four days together as a family again (just for clarification for certain parties, we made agreements as parents not as husband and wife) here in the Twin Cities before he returned to North Dakota and to Canada (where he has remarried).

So, it is back to me and my kids again. I have my work cut out for me here. I love my kids so much! I missed them greatly while we were apart. Now I feel whole once again.

I do have lots to work on. I work for the Minnesota Indian Women's Resource Center. I am also becoming more serious about my writing. People are taking me more serious too! It's amazing how this is all working out now. I actually get paid for writing! Not much...yet. But I am getting there!

I have a mini-van for my kids. Yippee Skippee! And, I am looking for a place to live at this very second. Last Friday, I was approached for the second time by an Ojibwe woman from Augsburg College. She is recruiting for a Tribal Special Education Cohort Master's Program. I gave it a lot of thought over the weekend and have decided that it's time to go back to school! I've got to keep moving forward. I feel energized...

Planting in January by Jerry Lopez

It is January

The coldest month of the year

And there I was outside in 40 below

Pounding at the soil with a steel stake

Pounding with all my might

I was doing all this pounding to plant a seed

Not just any seed

A seed I just could not seem to take care of

A seed that I thought would do better here than with me

So there I was with the seed in hand

Pounding and pounding away

With every thrusting effort the ground would dent

Then dent a little more, and a little more

Finally the dent would be deep enough

To plant this seed

I placed the seed deep within in this dent

Pulled out my reused glass jar of “organic, chemical free, fare trade, water”

And poured it so ceremonially over the seed

Within seconds the water had frozen

But I smiled, said some words and walked away with all the confidence in the world

For I knew deep within that the seed had everything it needed

It was a seed that could find life in the most challenging conditions

Just not with me

And so I walked away and never looked back

Months later the snow began to melt

The ground began to thaw

The birds returned and the leaves began to bud

The garden was beginning to flower and

Soon the garden took on full life and the people noticed

All those walking, driving, running, and cycling by would stop and look

The beauty of the garden was breathtaking

People could not help but slow down and look

Slowing down and looking was happening to everyone

Looking at such beauty traveled deep into the people

This beauty began to bring peace, love and harmony

Into the minds and heart of all those who slowed down and take it in

This garden was so profound that an entire community began to transform

The people were smiling and greeting each other

People began to pick up the trash and be kind to each other

Parents began to play with their kids and read them books

Kids began to wake up on time and run to school

Or at least walk and not be late

Then one day I walked by the garden

I was in awe

Suddenly the wind was taken out of my chest and offered to the flowers

A tear formed in the corner of both my eyes and my chest pounded slow yet strong

Time began to slow down and slow down some more

Everything came to a stop

I looked around and all but the flowers were a blur

I looked out upon the flowers and asked, “Which of you did I plant?”

But none would answer

I asked again

And none would answer

I asked four times and on the fourth time I asked

“Which of you is the one I planted at a most difficult time

A time when in my hand was my heart

And you the seed was my heart

I planted you here until I was ready to return

Which of you was this seed?”

Again there was silence

Just as I accepted my fate of not knowing

A voice spoke to me and said

Your heart has always been within you

But when you planted me

You too gave life to all of us

Now I belong here with all the seeds

That have been planted by the hearts of many

And so do not worry

There is much more of me inside of you

So go plant more seeds

No matter how hard it may be

No matter what season it is

When you plant a seed from the heart

Beauty will flower and all people will smile

Jerry wrote this for the Spring Equinox which was celebrated last week on March 20, 2008 in ceremony with Danza Mexica Cuauhtemoc...

Reflections on Chalchiutlicue by Bawshkeeng Wabigun (Tara Chadwick)

(L to R) Renee, Vanessa, Tara and her son Mictla

Reflections on Chalchiutlicue… notes from the Indigenous Women’s Water Policy and Leadership Training, March 20-23, 2008 @ Lake Itasca Biological Field Station.

Before I read the evaluations that I’m just patiently waiting to unfold, I want to leave a written reflection on the weekend’s event. I returned home to a fresh, soft blanket of snow and a new pint of sap in our maple bucket. It was 40 degrees in Northern Minnesota when we left early this afternoon, and 25 in St. Paul when we arrived here at 5 pm… interesting temperature change.

This weekend was the most recent culmination of years of work toward an endeavor to bring together the scientific and cultural knowledge of our local indigenous communities in an effort to boost our community readiness to engage in strategic systems change in water policy and management in local, state and federal arenas.

We started the journey toward this weekend with months worth of planning, logistics, location, ideas and timelines. Next was the content, resource guide and invitations to presentors and participants. Finally were the reminder calls, registration forms, supplies and sleeping assignments. Thank goodness for teamwork!

We invited all the women we could think of who are engaged in strategic, political, educational, or cultural work with water, especially those who regularly share their knowledge with other people in their community. We even invited women who we know would not be able to join us but who might be inspired to engage their own communities in similar endeavours.

When it finally arrived, the day of travel was difficult and filled with all sorts of obstacles, from snow, to rain, to ice, copy machine problems to vehicle space limitations… many of us made it to our departure point feeling anxious, uncertain and stressed out! But we were determined to begin in a positive and peaceful manner, and so we gathered in the Maynidoowahdak Community Center in honor of the call for 8,000 drums for Mother Earth, and we shared some food, thoughts, tobacco and songs to recenter ourselves and focus on our intentions for the training and on the road ahead.

The road ahead was long, it seemed to take forever to get there. And along the way, it was after all, the first day of Spring, we decided that we must add a workshop on tobacco seed planting. I had to stop at three different stores in Park Rapids, MN, before I could find soil that did not bear the Caution, Warning, Danger, Poison label that indicates the presence of toxic chemicals. Our next plan was going to be digging out frozen soil from the earth to plant the seeds… I am ashamed to say that I found it at the last stop, Walmart. The purchase of the only available package of organic potting soil, which was actually Canadian sphagnum peat moss, intruded on my five year boycott of the monster store. I’m sorry that Simone couldn’t join us from IEN, at least she could have used my scab peat purchase for a discussion about the peat mine that’s being proposed for the Red Lake bog, and the environmental and political impacts that are expected.

When we got to the park, it was dusk; we found a beautiful homey cabin filled with smiling women, and a feast of corn, rice, meat and berries spread out and steaming ready. We ate, and then headed out to find the fire, which had already been lit for the full moon ceremony. It had been snowing the whole day so we weren’t even sure which direction was east. The fire was magnificent, though, warm, huge and welcoming. There were wooden benches arranged around the fire, just enough for everyone to have a seat. We had a beautiful ceremony, and just before the end of it, our grandmother shone through the icey mist, a reminder of how the first water must have looked when it first arrived to surround our gwenawjiweengay mide wahkeeng.

After the ceremony we shared some social singing, drumming and snacking in the main cabin, then retired to our various sleeping quarters. Morning came very soon, I awoke, very uncharacteristically, at the break of dawn, despite my best efforts to sleep for as long as possible, I had to get up and get ready. Beautiful dreams about what lay ahead gave me strength and inspiration to go and talk to the other Midewiwin women about how we could create the offering ceremony that would happen next. I had dreamt about our teacher, gweewisence daywayigun. He was sitting with us, teaching us about the various elements we all have in common with him, each other and with all our living relatives on our mother the earth.

It was he who led us on our walk to the headwaters of the Mississippi. We could hear the loud, strong voice of the water speaking, singing to us, as it went flowing through, over and under the line of rocks that spanned the river; they could be crossed in two or three strides. Our grandmothers arrived first, and began their work, we all followed, set up a place for our teacher to work on the ice which was still strong enough to stand on, over the water at the shore of the Mississippi Headwaters. It was a timeless moment, I think we all felt like we remembered having been there before, remembering the memories carried by our ancestors, realizing as we stood there, that we are making a connection that was lost long, not too long, ago.

Next came the beautiful sounds of creation in harmony. Together we observed, felt and witnessed the coming of a new beginning. After the first song, the sun shone through the icey mist; after the second song, tiny black manidoons appeared among us, barely visible, hopping around on the snow. After the third song, the women spoke, sending their voices of observation, memory and intent into the future, near and distant. The speaking was a collective teaching, all voices equal, all participants active, engaged. The voices identified changes that had occurred over historical time, compared them with previously held observations, qualitative and quantitative measurements encoded in the memory, songs and teachings handed down for generations. The women analysed the differences between our historical and current situation, with the water, the earth and the environment. They posed hypotheses for how things could change, and identified an agenda of the most pressing issues… our voice and Midewiwin perspective in the development of land and water management policies, including a retroactive ban on the commodification and privatization of water; water quality restoration worldwide; access to clean, safe water for all human beings now and into the future. Then they spoke of solutions, benchmarks, what it would take to turn the present course of events to a series of desired outcomes. In the next 500 years… we would like to see the rivers restored to drinkable quality. We do not need to worry about the health of the earth, she will survive, it is us, human kind who are in danger. What befalls our brother the wolf, who walked the earth with Waynaboozhoo, will befall the Anishinabe. What will it take to ensure the survival of our people? What will we do? What will I do?

“lis-ten to your heartbeat, lis-ten to your heartbeat,” my three year old son chants…

The grandmothers echo his instruction. And inspiration. We have knowledge, technology and the power to create the change that we seek. Our only responsibility is to remember our teachings, offer our tobacco, pay attention, reflect and act. Do. Plan. Seek. Talk. Organize. Work. Walk. Speak.

We left the headwaters with a lighter step, and a stronger inspiration, and headed for the classroom, three miles downriver, on the shore of Lake Itasca’s East Arm.

The classroom was actually a basement science lab, with windows looking out on the Lake. At first, the transition from ceremony to classroom seemed too harsh, but we engaged our self discipline and entered together into the academic world of power point public policy, dotted with examples of real life situations that brought us back from intangible social theory to context that we could readily understand. We realized, I realized, that what we are doing is social change theory, only we don’t talk about it or write about it, we just do it. And keep doing it. And keep trying, even if the doing it doesn’t work out! I guess that is called 500 years of resistance and survival in my bedrock guide of (bedrock = below grassroots) growing up indigenous. For me, the development of political consciousness was inseparable from the development of social identity as an indigenous person. Citizen engagement and social activism was a given part of who we are and what we did, not a job acquired skill or a required reading. The lecture was good, though, a primer on what public policy is, means and needs in order to be a successful tool of social change.

Next we came to Grandmother Josephine’s presentation about the Mother Earth Water Walk, a remarkable committment to the ever present question: what will you do? Raise awareness, send a powerful message, work with the water, lead by example, follow our teachings. Josephine and her helpers will be walking through Chicago this May 1st- 7th and there is some concern for the safety of the walkers in this high profile water diversion area that is dominated by corporations who profit from the undeveloped consciousness of the majority of the masses. Josephine would like as much press and media attention as possible on the Water Walk for this year, and is inviting all women and men to participate and support the Walk to raise awareness and bring healing to the water.

After the classroom presentations, we returned to our eating cabin and feasted on buffalo stew. The third part of our day turned traditions and academics into creative practice. We transitioned, this time, into spring seed planting mode. Sharon shared the fruits of her trial and error tobacco seeding efforts. Smudge, tobacco, seed, tobacco, song. No water directly on the plants, only on the soil around the edges, till they’re big enough to plant in the ground about June. Keep covered, warm and constant temperature. Our seeds were planted, ready for us to take home and, hopefully, sprout in four days, a reminder of ourselves and our commitments and intentions.

Then, after watching a youth video and listening to a poem that reflect our work, our history and our intentions for the present and the future, we were challenged to take on a commitment to produce a creative message, one that reflects the learning that had taken place. In other words, it was everyone’s turn to work together or separately, to do something. Anything. Somehow! This is the exercise with the push that we need to turn the theory, back into action. Two hours later, we had a wonderful time, sharing what we had created. There were posters, skits, singing, drawings, paintings, beading, and cutting:

• Mainstream messaging through music (Mississippi River lyrics, karaoke)
• A Water = Life collage illustrating the interdependence that all the elements of our creation history share, surrounded by four pairs of moccasins that represent the Mother Earth Water Walk
• A red cuxtal and charcoal drawing representing the relationship between water, women and mother earth and reminding us of our responsibility and what could happen if we do not fulfill our obligations.
• The capers of Wally and Dory, the Minnesota walleye, and their run-in with a Red Lake fisherwoman.
• A Publicity Poster for the 2008 Mother Earth Water Walk, incorporating the issues of corporate commodification and privatization of water; bottled water quality, shelf life, and the generation of plastic bottle waste.
• A worldwide water quality and access comic strip storyboard.
• A beaded lace representing the free flow of living water running through the arteries of mother earth (undiverted and undammed).
• A poster for a Midewiwin culture based Younger Youth Water Education Project
• A room-wide game of ring around the rosey, exemplifying the movement of water

The sharing of our creative productions was followed by popcorn and an in-depth documentary titled “Green Green Water” filmed by a Minnesotan woman, about the relationship between Minnesota based Xcel Energy Corporation and Manitoba Hydro. The film focused on the effects of dams and electricity generation on the lives and livelihood of Crees from northern and central Manitoba. It was sobering to see the destruction that a dam produces, so that we can flip on the lights.

At the conclusion of the video, a call to action was spurred by a presentation by participants in the weekend workshop who are also danzantes from Danza Mexica Cuauhtemoc. They related the experience of the Manitoba Hydro dam to the many dams that have been and are being built throughout central and south American right now as part of Plan Puebla Panama and Nafta, Cafta and the current country by country trade agreements that are being negotiated, such as the trade deal with Columbia that is before congress right now. US internal and international policy is driven by the voices of powerful corporations that profit from exploiting and destroying common natural assets such as rivers, acquifers, and land based deposits of minerals and rocks. These trade and “implementation” agreements are taking away the power of indigenous people to provide for and protect our people and common natural assets. The only way for us to regain our power is to reclaim our power. Reclaim our power. As the grandmother shines brightly, watching.

We closed with evaluations the next morning, written and shared, one more offering of tobacco, and a song to celebrate our milestone accomplishment. We have stood together, we will continue to stand together. To Stand Strong. We are the buffalo. The wolves. The turtles. We are the grandmother, Waynaboozhoo, the fire and the water. Atl tla chinolli… the fire and the water. We are agitated, like boiling water, spurred to action. To reflection. To figuring out the answer to our ever present question: What will you do?

Meegwetch. Ome Teotl.

Bawshkeeng Wabigun (Tara Chadwick)
March 23, 2008, Upon returning home from the Water Retreat.

A Language Too Beautiful to Lose...

February 3, 2008
A language too beautiful to lose
By David Treuer

ONLY three Native American languages now spoken in the
United States and Canada are expected to survive into
the middle of this century. Mine, Ojibwe, is one of
them. Many languages have just a few speakers left --
two or three -- while some have a fluent population in
the hundreds. Recently, Marie Smith Jones, the last
remaining speaker of the Alaskan Eyak language, died
at age 89. The Ojibwe tribe has about 10,000 speakers
distributed around the Great Lakes and up into
northwestern Ontario and eastern Manitoba. Compared
with many, we have it pretty good.

If my language does die -- not now, not tomorrow, but,
unless something changes, in the near future -- many
understandings, not to mention the words that contain
them, will die as well. If my language dies, our word
for "bear," makwa, will disappear, and with it the
understanding that makwa is derived from the word for
box, makak (because black bears box themselves up,
sleeping, for the winter).

So too will the word for "namesake," niiyawen'enh.
Every child who gets an Ojibwe name has namesakes,
sometimes as many as six or eight of them. Throughout
a child's life, his or her namesakes function a little
like godparents, giving advice and help, good for a
dollar to buy an Indian taco at a powwow. But they
offer something more too. The term for "my body,"
niiyaw (a possessive noun: ni- = "I/mine"; -iiyaw =
"body/soul"), is incorporated into the word for a
namesake because the idea (contained by the word and
vice versa) is that when you take part in a naming,
you are gifting a part of your soul, your body, to the
person being named. So, to say "my namesake,"
niiyawen'enh, is to say "my fellow body, myself."

If these words are lost, much will happen, but also
very little will happen. We will be able to go to
Starbucks and GameStop and Wal-Mart and the Home Depot
as before. We will tie our shoes the same way and
brush our teeth and use Crest Whitestrips. Some of us
will still do our taxes. Some of us still won't. The
mechanics of life as it is lived by modern Ojibwes
will remain, for the most part, unchanged. The
language we lose, when we lose it, is replaced by
other languages.

And yet, I think, more will be lost than simply a
bouquet of discrete understandings -- about bears or
namesakes. If the language dies, we will lose
something personal, a degree of understanding that
resides, for most fluent speakers, on some unconscious
level. We will lose our sense of ourselves and our
culture. There are many aspects of culture that are
extralingual -- that is, they exist outside or in
spite of language: kinship, legal systems, governance,
history, personal identity. But there is very little
that is "extralingual" about story, about language
itself. I think what I am trying to say is that we
will lose beauty -- the beauty of the particular, the
beauty of the past and the intricacies of a language
tailored for our space in the world.

Yes, that's it: We will lose beauty.

My older brother Anton and I, among many others, have
been trying to do something about that. For the last
year, we have been working on a grant to record,
transcribe and translate Ojibwe speech in order to
compile what will be the first (and only) practical
Ojibwe language grammar. Since December, we have
traveled once, sometimes twice, a week, from our homes
on the western edge of our Minnesota reservation to
the east, to small communities named Inger, Onigum,
Bena and Ball Club, where we record Ojibwe speakers.
We've also taken longer trips to Red Lake Reservation
(to the north) and south to Mille Lacs.

RECORDING Ojibwe speech in Minnesota, where the
average age of fluent Ojibwe speakers is 55, means
recording old people. My brother, at 38, is very good
at this, much better than I am. For starters, he is
much more fluent. And he looks like a handsome version
of Tonto: lean, medium height, clear eyes and smooth
face, very black shiny braids and very white shiny
teeth. This helps. He has made this kind of activity
his life's work; it is what he does.

Right after college, he apprenticed himself to Archie
Mosay, at that time the oldest and most influential
Ojibwe spiritual leader, who grew up in the hills of
the St. Croix River Valley in Wisconsin and did not
have an English name until he was 12 and a white
farmer he worked for gave him a pocket knife and the
name "Archie." He kept the knife and the name for
another 82 years. Archie and my brother were friends.
Deep affection and respect and tenderness ran in both
directions.

The people we are interviewing are also our friends.
There is Tom Stillday, from the traditional village of
Ponemah on the Red Lake Reservation. Tommy Jay, as
he's known, is somewhat famous for his spiritual work
and for his sense of humor; he refers to his knees as
his baakinigebishkigwanan, which means "openers," and
once he described his Indian name, Ozaawaabiitang
(Yellow Foam), as the "puke of the waves as they wash
up onshore." He is a Korean War combat veteran, has
served on the tribal council and was the spiritual
advisor for one or two sessions of the Minnesota
Senate. He is also my daughter's namesake.

Then there is Anna Gibbs, also from Ponemah, also
famous -- for her voice and her special and
spectacular cept by human grasping.

Since we've begun our project, six of our informants,
our friends, have died, including Mark Wakanabo, who
worked as a janitor at our tribal school for decades
until someone realized that since he was a fluent
speaker, it would be better if he pushed young minds
toward the language rather than pushed a broom. He was
a sweet man, about whom I knew very little, except
that he was gentle, with a soft voice. Two of his sons
(identical twins) were my friends through middle and
high school.

Luckily, other people are working on making more
Ojibwe speakers. My good friends Keller Paap, along
with his wife Lisa LaRonge, David Bisonette, Thelma
Nayquonabe, Harold Frogg, Rose Tainter, Monica White
and others, have started an Ojibwe language immersion
school named Waadookodaading (We Help Each Other) on
the Lac Courte Oreilles Reservation in north-central
Wisconsin. The school has been in operation for six
years, and all the children in the program have passed
fifth-grade aptitude tests mandated by the state of
Wisconsin. Sixty-six percent of them scored in the top
10 percentiles in English and math, compared with a
much lower passing rate among students in the tribal
and public schools on and near the reservation. And
yet the students at Waadookodaading received no
instruction in English and their math was taught in
Ojibwe.

LAST spring, I went spearing with Keller Paap and Dave
Bisonette on a lake in their treaty area. Band members
fought for and won the right to continue exercising
their treaty rights on ceded land, and so they do. One
of those rights is to spear and net walleye pike
during the spring spawn. It is cold on the water in
April, and it was that night. We took the boat across
Round Lake to the northeastern shore and into the
shallow waters where the fish spawn. One person ran
the motor, the other stood in front wearing a headlamp
and speared the fish with a long pole. With a few
modern modifications, this is something we have done
for centuries.

The night was very foggy. Mist skated over the water
and billowed up, disturbed, over the gunwales of the
boat. We kept close to shore. Round Lake is a resort
lake and many of its bays and inlets are packed with
houses. (It is rumored that Oprah Winfrey has a house
there.) Most of these places were closed up,
shuttered, waiting for the tourists to come in for the
summer. The docks reached down into the lake as if
testing the water, but finding it too cold, drew up
halfway on the banks. Yet here and there, lights shone
from living room windows. And when the house was
perched especially close to the lake, we could see
televisions glowing ghostly and blue.

It was past 10 -- time for Letterman and Leno. Dave
and Keller and I spoke Ojibwe over the puttering motor
and the watery stab of the spear going down into the
water and the clang as it came out with a walleye
wiggling against the barbs. The pile of fish grew on
the bottom of the boat, and they flapped dully, trying
to fly against the unforgiving aluminum sky of the
boat. A dog barked from shore. I could hear, clearly,
Letterman's Top Ten List coming from an open window.
Fish scales, knocked loose by the tines of the spear,
were plastered all over the inside of the boat, and
they sparkled like jewels when swept by the lamplight.

This way of life and the language that goes with it
felt suddenly, almost painfully, too beautiful to
lose; too impossibly beautiful and unique to be
drowned out by the voice of a talk show host or by any
other kind of linguistic static. And I thought then,
with a growing confidence I don't always have: We
might just make it. *

View from the Holy Fire Place...Read at the Wolve's Den in July of '07

Think of My Kids Whenever I Hear This Song...

Yellow by ColdPlay

Look at the stars,
Look how they shine for you,
And everything you do,
Yeah they were all yellow,

I came along
I wrote a song for you
And all the things you do
And it was called yellow

So then I took my turn
Oh all the things I've done
And it was all yellow

Your skin
Oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
D'you know you know I love you so
You know I love you so

I swam across
I jumped across for you
Oh all the things you do
Cause you were all yellow

I drew a line
I drew a line for you
Oh what a thing to do
And it was all yellow

Your skin
Oh yeah your skin and bones
Turn into something beautiful
D'you know for you i bleed myself dry
For you i bleed myself dry

Its true look how they shine for you
look how they shine for you
look how they shine for you
look how they shine for you
look how they shine for you
look how they shine
look at the stars look how they shine for you
And all the things that you do...

Uncle Oliver's Obituary...

MACY, Neb. -- Oliver Saunsoci Jr., 76, of Macy departed this life Monday, Jan. 21, 2008, at the Winnebago Indian Hospital in Winnebago, Neb.

Services will be 10 a.m. Friday at the Alfred Gilpin Building, with Mr. Frank Saunsoci officiating. Burial will be in Omaha Tribal Cemetery, Macy. Visitation will be held begin today and will continue until service time Friday at the Native American Church (VFW building) in Macy. Arrangements are under the direction of Munderloh Funeral Home in Pender, Neb.

Oliver was born on June 17, 1931, in a home west of Macy. He attended school in Plainview district 151, a country school. He went on to attend Flandreau Indian School. At the age of 17, he enlisted in the U.S. Army and was a veteran of the Korean War from 1949 to 1953. He was a staff sergeant by the age of 18 years old with the 111th Infantry. He graduated from Milford Technical School for auto body repair, which he practiced for 10 years in Lincoln, Neb.

He was a husband to Charlotte Lasley Saunsoci for 36 years, and a father to eleven children.

He was the cofounder of the Lincoln Indian Center and served on its board of directors. He moved back to the Omaha Indian Reservation in Macy and was the director of the Employment Assistance Program. He attended the Nebraska Indian Community College and was one of its first graduates in 1978. He went on to become director of the Omaha Tribal Housing Authority. He served as chairman of the Omaha Tribal Council in 1980. He was an Environmental Health Technician at the Carl T. Curtis Health Center for 16 years. His other activities included being a bull rider and competing in other rodeo competitions. He also was an activist for Native American Rights and a Tribal Spiritual leader.

He is survived by his daughters, Gail J. Saunsoci of Macy, Olivia Saunsoci of Sioux City, Mary Saunsoci and Michelle Saunsoci, both of Macy; sons, Gary Lasley of South Sioux City, Adrian Saunsoci of Macy, Oliver Evan Saunsoci III, Quentin Saunsoci and Brennan Lasley, all of Macy; 52 grandchildren; 46 great grandchildren; and sisters, Eleanor Baxter and her husband Everett of Macy, Maxine Anderson and her husband Gary of Lincoln, Neb., and Cora Belle Saunsoci of Macy.

He was preceded in death by his parents, Oliver Saunsoci Sr. and Mae Blackbird Saunsoci; his wife, Charlotte Lasley Saunsoci; brothers, Franklin, Henry, Gary and Vincent Saunsoci; sisters, Mary Ann Saunsoci Cayou, Anna Belle Saunsoci and Rhea Sue Saunsoci; and children, Timothy, Wayne and Corwin Saunsoci.

A Good Time to Remember Standing Bear

By Kevin Abourezk

As the country honors the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. this week, I think it's a good time to remember a man many consider to be our country's first civil rights activist.

He is widely known in Nebraska, but I would dare say few have heard of him beyond the state's borders.

He is Chief Standing Bear of the Ponca Tribe.

In January 1879, Standing Bear and 30 of his followers left Indian Territory in Oklahoma to return to their former lands in Nebraska.

You see, as it had done to so many Native people, the U.S. government had forcibly moved the Poncas from their homes and sent them to Oklahoma two years earlier.

But Standing Bear and his followers preferred their homelands along the Niobrara River to the barren earth of Oklahoma.

Then the chief's son died.

But before Bear Shield died, he asked his father to bury him in the soil of his homeland.

Like any father, Standing Bear wanted to fulfill his son's dying wish.

So on Jan. 2, 1879, he and 30 followers left for Nebraska. Two months later, they were arrested, and Standing Bear was put on trial.

The trial of Standing Bear lasted two days. Shortly after it ended, the chief offered this impassioned plea to the court in an effort to prove he was a human being and entitled to the same right to freedom as every human being:

"That hand is not the color of yours, but if I pierce it, I shall feel pain. The blood that will flow from mine will be the same color as yours. I am a man. The same God made us both."

About two weeks later, federal Judge Elmer Dundy ruled that "an Indian (is) a person within the meaning of the law," entitled to the constitutional rights of U.S. citizens.

The decision allowed the Ponca to return to their lands and freed Standing Bear.

For the first time in this country's history, Native people had the right to go where they wanted, to leave the confines of the reservation and roam where they pleased.

All because a father wanted to fulfill his son's wish.

Kevin Abourezk, Oglala Lakota, is a reporter and editor at the Lincoln (Neb.) Journal Star. He is a reznet assignment editor and teaches reporting at the Freedom Forum's American Indian Journalism Institute.

U.S. tribes back Titla’s run for Congress

Paul Giblin, East Valley Tribune


American Indian tribes from across the state and country are pumping money into Mary Kim Titla’s congressional campaign.

The former Phoenix TV news reporter is running as a Democrat in the crowded race in Arizona’s vast 1st Congressional District. The mostly rural district has the largest Indian population of any congressional district in the country at 22 percent.

Titla is a member of the San Carlos Apache Tribe in southeastern Arizona.

Overall contributions to her campaign are approaching $100,000, and American Indian tribes have contributed more than half of the total, she said Wednesday.

“There is a real excitement about my ethnicity, of course, being Native American. There’s no doubt about that,” she said. “People in general are excited about helping me become the first Native American woman elected to Congress.”

The campaign’s latest financial figures will be reflected in its final 2007 campaign finance report, which is due to the Federal Election Commission by Jan. 15.

Third-quarter 2007 financial reports indicated Titla’s fundraising was fourth among candidates hoping to succeed Rep. Rick Renzi, a Republican incumbent under federal investigation into possible public corruption and not seeking re-election.

Democrat Ann Kirkpatrick led the field with $217,000 in contributions by Sept. 30. Republican Sydney Hay had $108,000, Democrat Howard Shanker $66,000 and Titla $42,000.

To date, 25 tribes have contributed to Titla’s campaign, she said. The list includes the Seminole Tribe of Florida, the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians of North Carolina, the Saint Regis Mohawk Tribe of New York and the Red Lake Band of Chippewa Indians of Minnesota, among others.

“There are tribes all over the country who are giving,” she said. Several tribes have donated $4,600, the maximum amount allowed by law from a single source.

Titla’s campaign chest establishes her as a serious candidate, said Mike O’Neil, president of O’Neil Associates, a public opinion research firm based in Tempe. Her ability to draw contributions from a national base is also telling, he said.

“Number 1, it says that she has presented a credible case to those tribes; and Number 2, the power of affinity,” O’Neil said.

“That’s not enough. You have to be credible. If she’s raised that amount of money at this point, I’d say that she’s convinced them that she’s a credible candidate,” he said.

In October, Titla addressed about 1,000 tribal leaders at a convention of the National Congress of American Indians, a lobbying organization. During her 20-minute speech in Denver, she pledged to address the needs of children, families, seniors and veterans. She also told the delegates she will ensure tribal sovereignty.

Those themes carry across state lines, she said.

“What’s important to remember is that once you’re elected to Congress, there are no boundaries, and people understand that. So there is a real genuine interest all over the country in my candidacy,” Titla said.

She has also received the endorsements of several Arizona tribes.

“I believe that the tribes in the district and outside of the district want to make sure that there is going to be someone in Congress who can be a voice for the tribes and can relate to what they’re going through. And I’m that candidate,” she said.

Titla said that her 20 years as a TV reporter in Tucson and the Valley also have helped establish her reputation among non-Native Americans.

“People appreciate where I’ve come from, how hard I’ve worked to get to where I’m at, and that I’m concerned and that I’m passionate about the same issues that they’re concerned about,” she said.

http://www.eastvalleytribune.com/story/105768

Jodi Rave: Youth a part of Big Foot Memorial Ride

287-mile ride a rite of passage

By JODI RAVE
Missoulian

BEAR SOLDIER, S.D. - When Donaven Yellow of Wakpala, S.D., joined the Spirit Riders, he pledged to ride four years in the Big Foot Memorial Ride, a nearly 300-mile journey dedicated to the Lakota ancestors who died in one of the nation's most horrific massacres.

On Saturday, he began the fourth journey across the South Dakota prairie with 44 riders who will spend the next two weeks on horseback en route to the Pine Ridge Reservation, picking up others along the way until they number 200.

"Riding for two weeks isn't easy," said the 15-year-old Donaven. "A lot of my friends made the same commitment. It gets really cold. You've just got to ride it out.

"A couple of times, I didn't feel my toes. And my legs were shaking. I had a Gatorade in my pocket. I tried to take a drink, but it was frozen solid after a couple of hours. I was really thirsty that day, and I wasn't warm enough to keep it thawed out."

The Spirit Riders were established in honor of a young man who went to the Spirit World on Sept. 21, 2004. The 16-year-old suffered from mental-health issues, said his father, Manaja Hill.

Before he died, he found some peace with horses after riding in the Big Foot Memorial Ride. It was his introduction to the horse culture.

"With his mental issues, that horse turned everything around," said his father. "Here was a kid who was in constant trouble when he was in school. I got called every day. After he got with horses, the calls seemed to have lessened."

Started with 7

So Hill and a friend started a horse program to help youth. In 1998, seven young men from Standing Rock became the first group of Spirit Riders to join the Big Foot Memorial Ride. They've been riding ever since. Adults now credit them for keeping the ride going.

The Big Foot Memorial started in 1986 after several men in different tribal communities shared a common vision to honor the ancestors who died in the Wounded Knee massacre on Dec. 29, 1890.

More than 350 unarmed men, women and children under the leadership of Chief Big Foot, a Minneconjou Lakota from the Cheyenne River Reservation, were shot after making an attempt to seek safety on the Pine Ridge Reservation.

Big Foot's band started its journey after learning of the death of Chief Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa Lakota. Today, the memory of the slain is honored as horseback riders retrace the trail of the slain Lakota.

Riders now participate in the Big Foot Memorial ride annually from Dec. 15 to 29. They end their 287-mile ride at Wounded Knee, where Big Foot's band was buried in a mass grave.

Keeping a vision alive

In 1992, after adults fulfilled their vision to honor their ancestors' memory in four consecutive rides, they felt it was time to let the vision go, following a wopila ride.

But the youth didn't want it to stop.

"The younger people kept it alive," said Ron His Horse Is Thunder, chairman of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and a 12-year veteran rider of the Big Foot Memorial Ride. "For many youth, it has become a rite of passage. They want to say, 'I've done that trail. I've ridden 300 miles.' It's good that they do. It teaches them fortitude, to go forward without complaining. It's so much a part of who we are."

"Now I come to support the young riders more than anything else," said His Horse Is Thunder. "It truly has become a ride for the youth."

Adults contend that youth and horses are a natural fit.

"There's no barriers," said Hill. "There's a natural rule out there - you be nice to me, I'll be nice to you. It's about respect. My son had all these rules. Be still. Don't talk. With a horse, you don't have those rules. A horse will listen to what you have to say, as long as you pay attention to him. They accepted one another. A lot of our kids respond to that."

"Watch the actions of horse," said Hill. "And then watch the actions of child. They mirror each other. When you get them together, they're going to figure out which one's which. If you put a herd of horses out there, and put the kids with them, they're going to find each other."

The horses help build the traditions, or lakol wicohan.

"It's a good foundation to give to our kids," said John Eagle Shield Sr., who has provided that foundation for his own son, John Eagle Shield Jr. "He's 16. And I haven't lost him. He was 6 months old when I'd be holding him in my arms and singing at Sun Dance. He knew ceremonial songs long before he knew powwow songs or round-dance songs."

Carrying one's self

It's a matter of how you carry yourself with all these values, beginning with prayer, respect, humility and generosity, said Eagle Shield. "The youths that follow these ways, I doubt very much they'll have some of these problems ... belligerence, discipline, lack of respect for authority. If they had this foundation, it would teach them how to live their lives."

Donaven Yellow has made the traditions of a horse culture and the values that accompany it a key part of his life as he matures into adulthood. He's embracing values important to being a good human being. It's a way of life that steers him away from being self-centered, said his grandfather.

"His birthday is Dec. 25 - Christmas Day," said Pat Yellow. "He hasn't been home with me for three Christmases now. It will be the fourth one coming up. I don't mind that as long as he's doing his job there on the ride and helping out the other youth."

Reporter Jodi Rave covers American Indian issues. She can be reached at 800-396-7186 or jodi.rave@lee.net.