Feather II

I volunteer with a group out in South Dakota called Re-Member. If you've read my blog before, you are probably already familiar. If not, in short, it is a group that works on light construction projects in one of the financially poorest counties on the continent. They also do some amazing cultural awareness programs.   Anyway, I am on the Board of Directors as well, and we are in the midst of a capital campaign to build a permanent presence on the Rez to continue our work until we aren't needed anymore. We have finally broken ground at the new location, but we still need financial help to get the project finished. None of the money for Feather II comes from the programs we already run. If you have other questions or want to help financially or with a visit, please contact me! Here is an e-mail that was sent out today...   Working with the Oglala Lakota Oyate on the Pine Ridge Reservation, S.D.

Hi John, We're making history at Re-Member, as the first building goes up at Feather II, our new permanent home on Pine Ridge. Our shared goal - to live and work alongside the Oglala Lakota people is being realized - thanks to your help.     To date, we are roughly 1/3 of the way to our $1.5 million goal. Your support is critical to our efforts, and your support has helped us achieve the milestone we are celebrating today.   Construction has started on our first facility at Feather II, but there is more to do. $25 is important $25 a month for a year is huge $25 a month over three years will help ensure the successful completion of this incredible project Please donate online today or mail your check to Re-Member, PO Box 8278, Grand Rapids, MI 49518. Visit our Feather II project page to learn more about the ambitious plans - and dynamic opportunities - that Feather II will bring to our program. Ted Skantze Executive Director Any help would be great! even at the $5 or $10 a month level, it all adds up! Even sharing the link to this blog post or to the Re-Member website could help. Please take some time to consider what you could do to make a difference today. Thanks friends!

Not Sure What To Do With All Of That

So, there you have it reader. Some days I look at that picture and wonder if it really all happened that way.  Then I'll re-read my journals and shake my head and ask God, or Wakan Tanka, just what I'm supposed to do next.

I have since joined the board of directors for the Re-Member organization, and have been working hard at getting Bluefeather Workshop stocked up to start doing some shows.  I've had the fun of having my parents living in the hotel across the road while Mom gets back on her feet, and watching the kiddos grow as they have been back in school. Our calender is filled with events.  Weddings, doctor appointments, workdays, play days... nary a day where nothing is happening.

In short, life is moving along. My mind is focusing on a bunch of irons in the fire and trying to stay ahead of them all.  Yet there is the picture.  A daily reminder that something happened to me.  The journals can be put on a shelf and forgotten.  But that picture greets me in the morning and wishes me a pleasant sleep at night.  I think about the Cloud Warrior often.  Wondering if I will see him again before another twenty one years pass. Wondering if there is more that I should be doing.  Wondering where this road will lead.

More Later

Chapter Nine - Sunday on the Rez

And what a week it was. Every day would begin with ‘Wisdom of the Elders’, a reading of quotes from people from many tribes giving a perspective on things from a Native American view. It was also a review of history, going more in depth into things glossed over in public school. “Battles” that were really massacres, like Wounded Knee.  “Massacres” that were really battles, like the Fetterman Massacre.  It was a valuable lesson that the victor writes the history, and many eyes were opened to the historical inaccuracies taught to most people in schools across the country.

                Sunday the volunteers were taken to Wounded Knee to hear the history from a descendant of one of those killed in that massacre.  It was shocking and eye opening. 

 

Then they all went to the Badlands for a hike back to a place called the Sanctuary. 

 

Jack walked with one of the staff who told him to try taking off his watch and letting himself learn to be peaceful.  Not worry about time or anything back home.  Just let the experiences that were going to happen this week sink in.  This was a little strange to Jack, as he was a bit of a control freak.  He liked knowing what time it was, knowing what time things were to happen so he could be a few minutes early, or at the very least not late for something.  But the woman he was talking to told him that things worked differently out here.  They were on ‘Indian Time’, which meant things would happen when they happened.  Something starting at 3:00 PM may start ten minutes early or a half hour late. Time didn’t matter too much. Everything happened in its own time. She told him that people “out in the world” cared too much about the detail of time, and not enough about the detail of people, or the event. Jack took off his watch and put it in his pocket.  Maybe he’d try ‘Indian Time’ for today or this week.  But he figured once he was back in “the world” he would fall back into wearing his watch.

                They stopped at the entrance to the Sanctuary and were told to spread out. Find a place alone and meditate, pray, sleep, whatever you felt like doing.  There was no pressure to do anything, and such a non-structured time seemed a little strange to Jack and some of the others.  But they were there for the experience, so the volunteers spread out into the giant valley.  Jack chose a spot up on a hill.  There was no shade, and the sun was beating down, but he had sunscreen on, a bottle of water, and a good hat.

                He prayed a short prayer to God that he would be open to whatever happened this week, and for patience now that he didn’t have a watch.  Then he stretched out on the rough, dry earth, pulled his hat over his face, and fell asleep.

That night they heard from a Lakota speaker named Inila Wakan, who spoke of taking back land that had belonged to his Grandmother.  She had been removed along with 800 others during WWII.  They were given a week to get out of their homes because the US Government was going to use those acres as a bombing range for B-17’s to practice on before they headed over to Europe.  Most of them took what they could carry, and the next week their homes were destroyed by the US Army Air Corps. After the war, the land was leased to white ranchers.  Inila watched his grandmother live the rest of her life bitter and broken.  His father had been born in the house, and he too had lived a bitter and broken life.  Inila decided to break the cycle and one day he took his family out to his grandmothers land and started living.  He built a house, drilled a well, basically started homesteading.  The rancher came with a pistol at his side to demand he leave, but Inila chased him off with a shotgun.  Then the BIA came out and threatened to take him to court. Inila dared them to do it, as he had all of the paperwork and documentation that the land still belonged to his grandmother’s family.  He has not heard back from anyone for years now.

Jack fell asleep quickly that night. It had been an exhausting day.

Chapter Eight - To the Rez

Jack scheduled a trip to Re-Member in March and looked forward to it with each passing day.  His wife suggested that he talk to the mission pastor of their church, to see if there would be interest in the congregation to donate supplies or money to the Re-Member group.  So Jack met with the pastor and told her about the organization, what they did, and about his trip.  It just so happened that the mission trip the pastor had been setting up had fallen through, and the Re-Member trip sounded like a perfect replacement to her.  Soon Jack found himself helping organize a second trip to the Rez later that spring with a group from his church.

                The weeks passed quickly, and soon it was time for Jack to bid farewell to his family and head for the Rez.  He stopped in Mitchell, South Dakota that night to sleep.  The next morning he made a quick visit to the Corn Palace in Mitchell, and got back on the road to the Rez.  The miles passed quickly, and soon he found himself in Batesland, a small town bordering the Pine Ridge reservation. He stopped for a Pepsi, and calculated how much longer it would be until he reached the camp.

                20 minutes.  That was all he would need to finish the drive.  But he was still an hour early.  He parked his car at the local post office, looking across the street at a structure he could not identify.  Logs, about 4-6 inches in diameter, had been placed upright in the ground in a big circle.  Other logs had been circled inside of those, and pine branches covered the top like a roof.  He wondered if it was a powwow circle.  He was also amazed at how quiet everything was.  The only sounds he heard were a few birds singing, and the wind in the grass.  It was peaceful, but Jack was a bundle of nerves.

 

                What would the coming week hold for him? Would he be able to do the work expected of him? Would he feel like an outsider since most everybody else would be coming in groups?  Finally anticipation got the better of him and he headed to the camp.

                As he drove up the dirt road to the camp, he noticed people working in a circular garden that served as a vehicle turn around.  There was a large, red Morton building, a large orangish/brown building, a mobile home, and a tipi.  He pulled up next to the garden and saw a tan, dark haired woman approaching his car.  Perhaps she was a Lakota? He wondered.

                “Welcome!” She said.

                “Hi.” He said back. She’s not a Lakota, he thought. She sounds Italian.

                Sure enough, he met Erika, an Italian woman who worked on the staff.  After the two of them had taken his things into the big red building and found him a bunk, they went back outside. Jack met Jen, the program director, Ted, the camp director, and a few others. They welcomed him and told him that today his only mission was to relax and acclimate to the weather and the place.

                Jack went up on top of a hill at the suggestion of the staff and took a look around.  It was amazing.  Quiet everywhere, a 360 degree view of the land.  Pure peacefulness. Whatever was in store for him, he felt ready for whatever the week would hold.

 

Pine Ridge, 2013

I have just returned from the second annual trip to Pine Ridge with Bethel Lutheran Church.  We were able to raise $2895 for shingles and supplies for our friends at Re-Member, along with $138 and a box of school supplies from the Mother/Daughter brunch back in March.  Highlights from this trip for me were...

Seeing my friend Pastor Andy Nelson when he hosted our group at his cool Student Center.

Hiking in the Badlands, where nobody got hurt!

Planting seeds of new friendships with people out there.

Hanging out with friends that I made last year.

So - Here are some pictures from the adventure...


The Bethel Group, On the way!

Friday night at Pastor Andy's

PA and the boys say goodbye for now.

Saturday hiking in the Badlands

Bill giving us the pre-hike briefing

Dad's discovery from last year, fossilized turtle shell, much the worse for wear.

More Badlands

Pastor Anjanette and her daughter Sela, Paul and Frank, pondering the Badlands

Quiet time in the Sanctuary for reflection, contemplation, meditation, or a good nap.

Allen looking out over the Badlands

Old wagon found during our tour of Feather 2, the next generation of Re-Member

Visiting Wounded Knee

 

 

During the talk, this dog came directly to me, lay down as you see here, and put a paw on my leg for some attention.  It was very hard not to bring her home.  She was malnourished and a little dehydrated, but otherwise healthy.

We were given the opportunity to put tobacco prayer ties on the gate surrounding the mass grave.  Many of us took this chance to send up prayers for the victims, and for the understanding that we cannot let this sort of thing happen again.

During the work week, I helped build wheelchair ramps, decks, skirted trailers and installed bunk beds in the home below. 

These are the beds we put in.  Clean linens, and a new pillow and blanket included!  These were put in for a pair of sisters, four and six years old.

In the room, the wall had separated from the floor, I could see the ground through this crack.

The window was rigged up with some heavy plastic, wrapped around cardboard and thumb tacked to the wall.

This room was plastered with Disney princesses, much like you could find on my five year old daughters walls.  But this is poverty in action right here.

 

 

This headless, muddy doll seemed to sum things up out there.

We got this deck with stairs built, wheelchair ramp started.

The next day we finished the skirting around this trailer, and had a great time getting to know the people who lived there.

Thursday was tour day, cloudy and chilly as we passed Wounded Knee.

But by lunch at Bette's Kitchen, it was hot and sunny again.  I met and befriended a new group of Hope Girls (from Hope College in Holland, Michigan)  They were there for a two week class, so we didn't see them much.  But they were delightful, as I have found Hope students to be in the past.

This is a painting that one of our members, Bernie, acquired from a Native artist.  It was painted on old ledger paper. I think it is awesome.

 Thursday night we were treated to an extreme thunderstorm. It was incredible!  After it passed a full double rainbow appeared.  I went up onto the hill to try and get a good shot and noticed lightning in the storm as it moved on.  A little patience and a lot of shots later, I got this one.

The group with Ted and Paula on our last night there.

 We got on the road Friday morning at 5:15 and drove back to Rochester.  I think everyone had a great time.  They were a great group.   Hard working and fun to hang out with.  I hope the trip stirred something in them as it has in me, and that they will become advocates for the Lakota as well. This post scratches the surface of the stories I could tell, and every person in the picture above has stories as well.

More Later

Strange Sunday

So I headed back to the Rez with a group of 8 from Bethel. Well, 6 from Bethel, Dad and me.  That makes 8.  I was a little anxious on the drive out, excited to see the friends I had made out there again, nervous about the group I was with - hoping they would have a great experience.

When we arrived on Saturday, I was a little overwhelmed.  The staff changes periodically through the summer, and I knew that.  But everyone I knew was away from camp.  A whole new staff was there to greet us.  It was OK though, as they were all great.  Eventually I did get to reconnect with my "old" friends, and it was great. We settled in on Saturday and I slept well, knowing that Sunday would be quite an adventure.

After the Sunday morning sunrise (pictured above), the decision was made to go to the Badlands first instead of Wounded Knee, since the heat was supposed to be rather extreme. We stopped first at the South Unit visitor center, which was open this time.  It was very cool, both in displays that they had, and the air conditioning as well.  Some people stayed behind for the cool air, but everyone on our bus ventured forth.

When we reached the Badlands, we set out across the trail, Dad and Erika and I bringing up the rear.  I carried along a camp chair for Dad to sit in, in case he got tired.  But we managed the hike out to the climbing point without difficulty.  As everyone climbed, Dad, Erika and I set out once more to get a lead on the group.  I'm rather glad he was there, because it was hot enough that I didn't want to move very fast.

Eventually the group passed us.  Dad decided to head back to the buses, as the heat and altitude were bugging him.  He started back with Erika and I went on a bit.  I found eviddence that this area was once used as a gunnery range...

(That's a machine gun belt link.)
and had a little quiet time. But I eventually decided I'd rather stick with Dad and Erika.  The heat and altitude were getting to me, too.  I got a shot of them as I was headed back to them...

See?

Anyway, when I caught up to them they were at the climbing spot again, and I found this really neat rib bone from some mammal.  It turned out to be a great back scratcher, as demonstrated by Erika...

We walked on a little and when we stopped to rest again, Dad pointed out a small orange circle in the dirt.  We excavated a little and discovered that it was an intact fossil turtle shell!

We decided to see how much of it we could uncover before the group came back.  After only a couple of minutes, one of the staff members came back to find us.

"Uhh, we have a bit of a problem." She said. "Somebody fell and broke their leg."

Immediately I worried that it might be one from my group.  But it was not.  It was a guy from Lincoln, NE.  After talking it over with Dad and Erika, we decided I'd better go back and see if they needed any help from a former medic, and to take the chair in case it would make transporting him out easier.

Erika and Dad headed for the buses again, and I headed for the Sanctuary.  As I walked, people from the group came trickling out.

"You're going the wrong way!" I heard many times.

I saw one of the people from my group and told her to send back my backpack.  Before I left for the trip, I had noticed that I had a little extra room in the front pouch of my pack.  I packed a few bandages in it, some cloth triangle slings and some trauma shears.  As an afterthought I tossed in the SAM splint, a foam covered strip of aluminium that can be formed into a splint for broken bones.  I didn't think I'd eed it, as I'd been carrying it for ten years having never used it.  Like I said, an afterthought.  I had even considered leaving my pack back at the camp that day, but decided last minute to bring it along.

Then two more staff members came running by. I asked them what was happening.

"Some lady just broke her leg."

Lady? I thought it was a guy?

"It is." They said.  "It's both."

Oh crap. I thought to myself.  The medic in me awakened and I went into EMS mode.  Two broken legs. Severity unknown. In the Badlands, medical resources are distant.  This had the potential to suck.

As I came up over a rise I saw two staff members halping one of the women from my group along, one under each arm.  She appeared to be putting weight on it.  Good.  Maybe just twisted or a sprain.  Then I caught sight of a group of guys carrying a body like Christ coming off the cross.  His head was lolling back and I couldn't tell if he was conscious or not.

Well, that's not good. Thought I.

I reached them as they were setting him down to take a break.  His right ankle was wrapped in an ace bandage with a cold pack tucked in it.  But his foot was at an odd angle compared to his leg.

"Tib/fib" I thought.  I walked up to his head and introduced myself.  There was a woman kneeling with him.

"Hi, I'm John.  I'm a paramedic. Can I help you out?"

His response was a weak "OK". He looked pale and shockey.  Complained of nausea and wanting to pass out. 

"Yeah" I thought, "This is not good."

The Woman kneeling with him looked at me.
"Are you really a paramedic?" She asked.
"I actually am." I said.

Fortunately one of the staff members was driving the camp van up into the hills as far as he could get it.  I joined the group carrying him as the broken leg supporter.  Everybody else did the heavy lifting.  We manhandled him into the van and headed slowly for the road.  I was trying to keep his foot from flopping around, but it wasn't easy.  His toes were purple and I knew he was losing circulation in his foot.

As we bounced along a guy from my group came running up with my pack.  Here was the gear I needed.  The van driver hopped out and Jen, the program director, jumped in to take us to the hospital.

"How long is the drive?" I asked.

"Half hour or more." She said.

I looked at his leg again.  No circulation, no feeling in his foot, and he couldn't wiggle his toes.  So I made a quick choice to try and reduce the fracture there in the field.  I unwrapped the ace wrap and noted a nasty purple/black bruise where the bone was pressing against the skin.  Any more bouncing, I thought, and it would poke through.  I could see the broken tibia, but I couldn't tell if the fibula was broken.  It looked weird.  Usuallly they break near the same place, and you can really tell.  Not this time.  I wasn't going to sit and examine it too much though.

 David, one of the construction managers was helping me, so with a steady smooth pull, I pulled his foot away from his leg and set the bones in place as best as I could.  Mike, the guy who was now my patient, was not happy with this move, and grunted and yelled a bit in response.  But with David's help I managed to get the splint on and wrapped with the ace bandage. I propped his leg between a backpack and my jacket as best I could to stabilize it.  David hopped out and I had hoped to as well.  But they asked me to go along, so I did.

So, with Jen driving, Leslie - the woman from our group that fell moments after Mike and hurt her right leg as well - in the front seat, me straddling the middle seat with Mike's leg, and Mike and the woman that had been with him the whole time in the back seat, we headed for Pine Ridge, with the goal of getting him to the IHS hospital.

The other womans name was Kim.  She was the leader of the Lincoln group, and a reverend of the UCC church.  She was also a very comforting person to have along.

As we drove, I reassesed my patient.  His color looked better, and although he was a little nauseous he didn't look near as much like he was going to pass out.  His foot pinked up nicely as well, and he had good feeling throughout his foot.  He could also wiggle his toes now, which gave me some relief.

As we drove, Jen called her boss, Ted and told him what was going on.  He told us that at the IHS hospital they would just splint it, stabilize him and send him to Gordon, NE.  Since we had already splinted and stabilized, we decided to head right for Gordon.  The whole trip took a little less than an hour, and in that time Mike went from nearly passing out, pale, sweaty, nauseated, to alert, oriented, and even smiling a bit.

We got both of our broken ones into seperate rooms in the Emergency Department and let the staff take over.  While Jen, Kim and I waited, we went to find some lunch at a local eatery, the Antelope Cafe.  It was tastier than it sounds, and they even had fried green beans. Sort of like fried mushrooms or fried cheese sticks... again, tastier than it sounds.  Kim even bought us lunch.  It was very kind of her.

When we returned to the hospital, I was shocked to find that Leslie had actually broken her ankle bone!  She was none too pleased, and Jen very kindly told her that she now had many other options for a vacation like trip.  Reading, relaxing, that sort of thing.  I was also shocked to learn that Mike would be flown out to Lincoln for emergency surgery!  His tibia was indeed broken down low, but his fibula had broken mid way up his leg. It was a very flukey break indeed, and he was bummed not to be able to spend the week on the Rez.

We had to leave Mike just as the air crew was getting to him, as we had to drive 45 minutes to Chadron, NE to the Wal-Mart pharmacy to pick up meds for Leslie.  It was a crazy, crazy driving day indeed.

As we were at Wal Mart, Jen handed me her phone and said that Allie wanted to talk with me.

Allie is a friend I made the last time I was out.  She is a young Lakota woman and has a great family. 

Anyway, to make the day even more surreal, she invited me to go to a sweat with her and some of the staff that her dad was doing that night.  Of course I accepted, and spent the drive home nervously anticipating what it would be like, and trying to put the medic in me away for the day.

Jen gave me some helpful pointers for the sweat as we drove.  And as we approached the camp, I saw Allie, Erika, Bryan and a few others waiting for me.  I grabbed my running shorts and a towel and we headed off.  It was a very strange day, and I expected to go even farther out of my comfort zone in the evening.

More Later

Back to the Rez

I spent last week on the Rez again.  I went back to Re-Member with a small group from my church.  My father joined us as well, making eight people in all.

I am still processing that week.  So much happened, good and bad.  But mostly good.  I'll write about it here as the days go on.  Some events to look forward to reading about...

Strange Sunday - wherin not one, but two legs are broken, and my medic skills are taken from the trunk again.

Sweat Lodge Ceremony 1 and 2.

Sundance.

Re-Member events.

It was quite a week.  Quite. A. Week.

As soon as I get it clearer in my brain, I'll put some words down.

More Later

Remember Shingles

When I was out in South Dakota working with Re-Member, I wondered what more I could do once I left the Rez.  As I stood one morning with Bryan, I asked him if they needed anything. Did Re-Member have a wish list.  He told me he'd get back to me on that one.

Later we talked about it again.

"Shingles." He told me. They hold their own with donations of lumber and gloves and things of that nature.  They received a new shipment of donated tools when I was there. But what people often overlooked was shingles and roofing supplies.

Shingles are heavy. I mean, really heavy.  So transporting them out to the Rez would be hard on any shocks in any vehicle.  But I still plotted and planned and wondered how to get shingles to them.  Just before I left Friday morning, Ted mentioned that they could also use Menards gift cards to buy shingles and other supplies.

Stewing that over on the drive home, I wondered about starting a shingle drive upon my return.

Well, that time has come.  Up there to the left you'll see a button for Remember Shingles.  Donations are being taken in any amount.  Take some time to consider it, but don't dally, I'm only collecting funds until I go back out to the Rez in June.

If you don't feel like giving to me, head on over to Re-Member's website and give directly to them!  Tell them I sent you!

Thanks for your support.
More Later

Leaving Pine Ridge

Friday was the day to wake up, pack up and head for home.  It was a little bittersweet because it meant taking leave of not only the people I had connected with in the volunteer group and staff, but because it meant leaving the Rez and the people I had connected with there.

One by one the groups departed.  Denver Academy, Hope College, UMD and Hendrix. Many hugs were shared and pictures were taken.  We said our toksa's as each group departed, content with the Lakota word for "Later" instead of saying goodbye.  I really do hope to see many, many of those people again somewhere along life's trails. 

I dragged my feet about going.  I wanted to see my family again, but I also wanted this experience to continue.  Some of the staff were going to the Black Hills to climb Harney Peak, and they invited me to join them.  It was awfully tempting, too.  They are good, good people and I'm happy to call them friends.  But when I called my wife I learned that a dear friend was at Mayo and in the process of losing her mother, and the pull of home was that much stronger.

I did want to get some breakfast before I left though, and the staff were heading out to the Lakota Cafe to do the same, so I tagged along with Ted and had a nice visit with him while we drove in.

The Lakota Cafe is sort of like a Perkins on the Rez, but the food tastes a bit better. We all sat at a table, and I was across from Yolanda and Allie, who regaled me with horror stories about the Indian Health Service and the Emergency Room.  It was scary stuff.

Yoland, me, and Allie outside the Lakota cafe


Ted treated the whole group, which I felt truly honored to be a part of. I have spent a great many days since I came home trying to figure out a way to join the staff out there.

When we got back to camp it was time to say toksa ake to the staff and be on my way. Of all of the difficult moments I experienced out there, this was the hardest.

Jen, Anisha, Erica, Bryan, and Ted.  I'm in the back there.  This is some of the staff.  They were all amazing. Servant hearted. Kind and compassionate.  A really remarkable group.

I drove the nine hours back to Rochester straight through, stopping only for gas when I needed it.  As I left the Rez, I listened to a CD of Will and Lil'Jess called Reservation Nights.  Will was the speaker on Monday night and had CD's for sale.  His music is gritty, just a guitar, drums and his voice for most of it.  The lyrics speak of life on the Rez, life as a Lakota, challenges and struggles, but also of hope and good times and the pride of being Lakota. 

On the drive home I did a whole lot of thinking.  What I had just experienced was a drop of help in the ocean that is the problems out there.  Looking at it from the outside just a few weeks before, I had been overwhelmed with knowing that there were huge problems and not knowing what was being done or how I could make any difference. After one short week I had been reprogrammed somewhat.  Some assumptions I'd had didn't hold water - that the Lakota hate the whites, for example.  I didn't see much hate.  Just people getting on with their lives. Are there some Lakota that hate whites?  Sure.  Just like there are whites who hate the Lakota. 

Some assumptions were spot on.  Like my belief that people everywhere smile in the same language, and that with a little conversation I can find a commonality with just about anyone on the planet.

My eyes were opened to a bunch of new things, too. 

Historically I knew about the treaties being broken and the land being stolen.  Our schools teach this as the history of the Old West.  Cowboy and Indian stuff.  It was startling to see that agreements were still not being honored by our government. That even today the deck is stacked against the Lakota and our government does very little to rectify that situation.  Before I left I had the attitude of "Well, yes the land is gone, but it's been so long since the treaty days, what can be done?" Now my attitude is with the Lakota.  Our government promised them a reservation.  We signed the treaty. Article Six of our own Constitution reads thusly...

"This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding."

First, look at this map of the ancestral lands of the Lakota/Nakota/Dakota tribes.


The last valid treaty signed by the Lakota was the Ft. Laramie Treaty of 1851. Look at this map that shows the lands promised to the Indians...

The yellow is the Great Sioux Nation, promised to the Lakota in the treaty.


Even if you accept the Ft. Laramie Treaty of 1868 as the latest treaty, the map should look like this...

That's about half of South Dakota that should be Lakota lands.
But since that time the land has been stolen away, piece by piece until what is left is the section in red...

See the difference?
BUT, one might say, the Sioux lost the wars, they have to accept the terms of the peace.  In reality, those treaties were made because the United States sued for peace because they were LOSING.  The Lakota and other tribes, being honorable, kept the terms in the treaties and stayed peaceful.  Until the US did not uphold their treaty obligations and greedy settlers headed in for gold and land.  Rather than do what was constitutionally required regarding these treaties, the Government of that time went ahead and stole the land from the tribes and gave it to the settlers. They did this by hook or by crook, changing laws and making new laws to suit the land grab.

Ancient history, you say?
During WWII part of the reservation was "acquired" by the government to be used as a bombing range for practice. Even today all of that land in red up there doesn't help the Lakota.  The Dawes Act of 1887 started a land grab by non-indians, and now all over the Rez there are non-indian farmers and ranchers who's descendants bought up huge tracts of land from impoverished Indians.  These ranches and farms today make money for the families that live on them, but not for the Lakota people.  Dig into the history from the past 100 years.  It is rife with corruption, greed and criminal acts that have left the Oglala Lakota where they are today.

These days there is still animosity towards the Lakota. Racism is rampant, especially out in Rapid City. The South Dakota politicians are still working on obliterating the tribes. It really is disturbing.

Anyone who supports and defends the US Constitution should be appalled by the injustice of this.  Article Six has been completely ignored when it comes to the Lakota.

OK, Off my soapbox.  So, what can be done?  Here again my eyes were opened.  There are many great organizations on the Rez working to restore the Lakota way of life.  Not the live in tipis and hunt buffalo life, but life living in the Lakota culture with Lakota values, apart from the "western" ways, but still modern and progressive.  I'm finding new ones about every day.  But here are a few of my favorites.

Tanka Bars!  Yep, a Lakota owned and operated business making tasty buffalo treats.  But with an amazing vision of how things might look in the future.  Explore their website a bit, they have a great mission and vision.  Find Tanka bars at a store near you, or order online.  The money is going towards a great vision, and the reward of the Tanka Bars is exquisite!

Lakota Solar Enterprises is an organization looking to get affordable heating and electricity on the Rez.  The Great Plains are the 'Saudi Arabia' of wind power, and it's sunny out there about 300 days a year to boot.  Imagine the potential waiting to be tapped into, and how that could improve life on the Rez. Don't forget to check out Trees, Water,People while you explore LSE.  They help tribes all over the nation. Maybe even one near you!

And of course, Re-Member. One of the most trusted non-native programs out there, but doing so much towards the betterment of not only living conditions on the Rez, but understanding of the people that live there.  I am certain there are many, many opportunities to go help people on Pine Ridge.  What I learned most of all through my experience with Re-Member was to stand with the people of Pine Ridge.  That even from far away I can make a difference.  That I can be an advocate by sharing what I learned out there, and writing my politicians to see what can be done.  By raising not just money for the people, but awareness of them.  If we can get Pine Ridge on the radar somehow, perhaps there would be enough rational people to create change, over the objections of the bigots and greedy that now seem to have control of the situation out there.

Things are changing. Slowly. Slowly. And even if you disagree with just giving the land back, if you have any respect for our constitution, then you can't deny that something needs to be done. If you don't live with our constitution as your form of government, then you must see that strictly on a humanitarian platform, something must be done.

Soapbox again. Sorry.  It's hard not to get riled up about this.  Even now, many weeks away from the trip. Start digging yourself.  Go on a trip to Re-Member.  Education is the key to understanding, experience is the door.  You will not be sorry you went.  And if you're scared to go alone, drop me a line and I'll go with you.



I did finally get to see some buffalo. 

It was on the Rosebud Reservation though.

 I hope I live long enough to see giant herds on the Great Sioux Nation lands.  Time will tell.

In closing, it was an amazing, life changing, eye opening trip. I've had a fire lit within me to continue to pursue the improvement of the living conditions for the Lakota, but more importantly to try and find some justice for them. I stand with the Lakota Oyate, today and into the future, until I become grass myself. And I will teach my children the true history, so that they may continue to stand with the Lakota after I am gone.

Mitakuye Oyasin. We are all related.
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