Lakota* philosophy 101: All my Relatives

If you want to understand the Lakota way of life, you have to understand the underlying philosophy of all their systems: everyone and everything is your relative. The Lakota phrase that expresses this idea is "mitakuye oyas'in"--all my relatives--and it is used as a prayer, by itself or at the beginning and end of ceremonies.

This idea comes from the creation story, which a lot of the classes at SGU, from botany to history to language, begin the semester with. Here is the way Albert White Hat writes about it in his book Reading and Writing the Lakota Language:

"Inyan was in the beginning. Inyan began Creation by draining its blood to create. The first Creation was Maka, the Earth. After Maka, another need arose and Inyan drained its blood to address that need for Maka" (27).

And further, from my class notes: Each time something was needed, Inyan drained its blood and made something to address that need: Maka was too dark and cold, so Inyan made the sun; but then that was too hot and bright, so Inyan made the moon and nighttime; the beings then needed the breath of life, so Inyan made the wind. And so on, through each being that was created: grass and trees, animals, and humans last (woman, then man).

Every time something was created here on earth, its double was created up in the sky, in the universe. And every time Inyan made something, it got weaker and weaker because its blood was being drained. Eventually, Inyan became dry and brittle, and was scattered all over the earth. (We refer to these dry, brittle things as rocks.)

Because of the way everything was made, we all come from the blood of Inyan, which means we are all related. We are all each other's relatives, and we should approach and treat each other and respect each other as such. The trees and grass, every human, the sky--these are all our relatives.

Those who are trying to live the Lakota way of life take this into account; they pray throughout the day, greeting and giving thanks to the relatives they meet, and asking for help when that's needed, just like you would ask a sister or an uncle to help you with something. (Albert says, though, that the Christian sense of "praying" doesn't quite work here--Lakota people don't bow down to and worship their relatives; they appreciate them and show them respect.)

I knew this before, from previous (shorter) trips to the reservation and from reading. What has struck me on this trip, however, is its pervasiveness. If you understand this concept, when you study other things you see it show up again and again. For example, in Traditional Arts class, I learned that representational designs are mirrored vertically to represent the doubling of things on the earth and out in the universe. In a class called "The Traditional Lakota Woman," I understood better why family groups are so important. In botany class, I could see the concept of the tiospaye--a group of extended family members living in one place--being borne out in the idea of the ecosystem--a group of relatives living together and helping each other. It's everywhere I look here.

So. That has got me thinking... What if I tried to live closer to this way of thinking? What if I thought of my neighbors as my cousins? or my lawn and garden as family members? or the food on my table as something provided by relatives? Could I think of my students as (young :) ) relatives? How can I create, especially for Dexter, the sense of a tiospaye when our extended family is far flung?

I hope these questions will stick with me when I go home and back to my daily routines. I hope those daily routines will be a bit different, a bit changed, by what I'm learning here. I'm sure that's partly what I'm here for.

Ciao,
Karen

*Try as I might, I can't get the diacritic marks to appear correctly, so they're missing throughout this entry. For example, the word "Lakota" should have a dot over the k, making it a guttural k (like the beginning of the word "hannukah"), and a line over the t, which makes it kind of sticky. To learn more, see Albert's book; you can buy it here. Mine came with tapes, but I see that it also comes in a CD version.

Guess what I did this weekend

On Saturday morning, I packed my bags...

... (schoolwork, toiletries, knitting, pjs) and drove about a hundred miles north of here and a little bit east to Pierre, the state capitol, where my in-laws (mother, father, and brother) live. We had a nice, peaceful weekend; we visited a lot, told stories and chatted, and I was fed well and treated like royalty. We had something to celebrate! Here's a hint:

Happy birthday to me! :) (And to Robin! though she was far away, back in Ohio.)

Not only did I have two big honkin' slices of this wonderful cake made by my mother-in-law, I also got to take the leftovers back to Mission with me. Am I lucky, or what?

Here are some photos I took along the road:
Wild turkeys! They are humongous. They seem to like to hang out in the wooded areas near streams. (This is near the Little White River.) Here's a photo using my super-close-up lens for Dexter:

Here's a landscape view, on the way home, just as it was getting ready to rain:

This is in the Fort Pierre National Grassland. It's amazing. And in this next shot, I tried to show how you can see weather coming for miles:

It didn't show up in the photo, but you could see streaks coming down where it was raining. It kept raining, but then on Monday night the rain turned into snow, and here's what it looked like (and what I looked like) on campus this morning:


See, Anne? I'm wearing my coat now. AND my scarf. But it's not cold enough yet for my hat.

The people at Sinte Gleska have been so generous and kind. One faculty member took me to see the museum at St. Francis yesterday, and they've been inviting me to come sit in classes left and right--language, advanced language, ethno-botany, history & culture, traditional arts, health. I was worried about being an outsider, even an intruder, but everyone has been so welcoming. I can't express how lucky I feel.

I hope you find something to feel lucky about today!
Karen

Sinte Gleska University... and warm weather!

Okay, I'm a bit frustrated by the fact that the layout I see when I'm composing an entry is so different from what the screen looks like when it's all done... Nevertheless, here's another post with photos! :P

I want to show you a little bit more of the place where I'm living and studying this month. I'm living in Mission, South Dakota, on the Rosebud Reservation. This map shows both. We are not far from Pine Ridge reservation, which those of us who remember the 1970s will recall made some dramatic headlines (when people from the American Indian Movement took over several buildings and there was an armed conflict right here in the U.S.; to read more about it--from a native point of view--go here).

So. Sinte Gleska University was started on Feb. 3, 1971. Albert White Hat told us in class the other day that they started with volunteer faculty, a volunteer secretary, $10,000, and a typewriter with one letter missing. They have grown since then, but really are still small. Here are some of the places that are significant to me so far. The Lakota Studies building:
It has some faculty offices, a kitchen/hanging out place, and two classrooms. It's a log house, which apparently was the house of choice in the mid 20th-century before the government started building h.u.d. houses.

Here's the book store:
I will be spending some $$ there tomorrow! I've got homework!

And here's one of the main buildings (which I haven't been in yet):
Very 70s. Next to it is the student center, where you can get a hot lunch for $1. (Haven't been in there yet, either. I'm finding that my shy side has come out; I need to work up some courage to go there, knowing I'll be the kid in the cafeteria who has no one to sit with... shades of 7th grade! Oh, the horror!)

You'll notice that in these couple of photos I am NOT WEARING A COAT. IN SOUTH DAKOTA. IN FEBRUARY. I don't know what's going on, but it has been warmer here than it was in Ohio when I left! I am just counting my blessings and preparing myself mentally for the onslaught of freezing, which I know will be coming before I leave here...

Here is a view looking down the main street of Mission toward its one stop light:
And here is the place where I'm staying:
The quarters here can house up to about 30 people (if I counted bunks right); they host a lot of volunteers from church groups who do Habitat-type work on homes. They also run a meal program and thrift store where people can get food, clothing, and books.

Notice the preponderance of MUD in these last two photos. My boots are coming in handy even though there's hardly any snow!

And, last but not least, buffalo! Or, more properly, bison:

Sinte Gleska maintains a big herd as part of their programs. They are huge, and it's so great to see them with the bluffs in the background... I think the photos I took are mostly of moms & babies; the males are noticeably larger than everyone else.

Here I caught one rolling in the dirt; some others are looking back at me. ("Who's that white lady in the strange car?" "I dunno. Gotta roll.")
I hope you have time today to smell the roses, roll in the dirt, whatever makes you feel happy.

Ciao from the prairie,
Karen

SGU Founder's Day wacipi

I went to a pow-wow this past weekend--which the Lakota call a wacipi (wah-CHEE-pee)--and it was fantastic. I heard styles of drumming I'd never heard before. I saw dances I'd never seen before. And the dancing and singing and drumming were all excellent. Here are some photos with commentary for a little taste of what it was like...


This is Albert White Hat, in the middle wearing the black hat (confusing?). He is one of the two mc's; at this point he & the other one are teasing the dancers or audience about something. The mc keeps things going, announces dances and gives upcoming dancers a heads up, and announces which drum is going to play. Sometimes he also tells jokes. :)



Here is one of the women's competitions--the teen fancy shawl dance. You can see from this little bit how colorful the shawls are, and how dramatic the movements are. And their feet are MOVING! I had the opportunity to talk to this girl's mom, and she said her daughter designs and sews her own dresses and shawls.















Here is a little girl being escorted by her daddy (I think). As soon as babies are old enough to walk, they start dancing!
















Here is another intertribal dance--where everyone can dance, even those not wearing regalia. Men dance counterclockwise, and women clockwise; a man in the audience told me they're imitating what buffalo do when the males protect the females. It's also to maintain balance.

You will also notice that, when women get out there and dance, it's often social hour. :) (The stands look kind of empty here, but on Sat. & Sun. it was standing room only!)

Here's another photo I like from the intertribal dances; a grandpa (I think) carrying a baby, a guy who seems non-Indian, and between them a top dancer in regalia, all dancing together. To their right you can see a few jingle dress dancers headed the other way. Shane Red Hawk says that they take the babies out there to get that rhythm into them as soon as possible; it helps them become who they're meant to be. The teenagers may abandon their people's ways, but because that rhythm has been instilled in them, they will eventually come back.















Here is a drum. It's traditional that only men drum, but women will stand behind and sing the choruses an octave higher than the men. This particular drum is an award-winning young men's group. On this song, several girls (notice how young!) were really SINGING! There were about 19 drums at this wacipi--the most I've ever seen in one place.














This is a Rabbit Dance--something I'd never seen at a pow-wow before. It was so beautiful. The women were "golden age" women's traditional competitors, and the crowd yelled "one more!" when they were finished their first dance, so they each grabbed a male partner and danced this one. The song was really sweet, and the steps of the dancers really pretty. People in the audience (including me!) were teary-eyed at the end. At least one woman danced with a grandson, and you can see that some of the men were not in regalia; they danced beautifully anyway. This dance made me miss Patrick. :)















So that's what I did this weekend, in addition to finding the GOOD grocery store in town.

Now I need to practice how to introduce myself to a group in Lakota for class tomorrow morning. It's hard!

Cheers,
Karen

(Silent) poetry reading in honor of Brigid

Today is the Celtic holiday Imbolc, or St. Brigid's day, the patron saint of poetry and midwifery, among other things. (Garrison Keillor happened to write a nice summary in his "Writer's Almanac" today; here it is.) In honor of the day, many bloggers post a poem or two. Since I'm blogging, I get to play!

I was going to post some Emily Dickinson, but Mr. Keillor beat me to it; I was going to post a poem by Heid Erdrich--her poems from The Mother's Tongue, which I just started reading before I left, seem appropriate and they're GREAT. However, I do not have her permission to do that. I also thought of a great poem related to childbirth (sort of); but I think if I put it here, people looking for "pr0n" would find my site. (Here is the poem, just fyi.)

So here's my fourth try. It's about a different kind of birthing... The story is that Ms. Bradstreet wrote this poem after her brother-in-law, without her knowledge, had a book of her poems published back in England (she lived in "New England" in the 17th century); it was thereafter included as a preface to the subsequent editions. Enjoy!

The Author to Her Book
by Anne Bradstreet

Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain,
Who after birth didst by my side remain,
Till snatched from thence by friends, less wise than true,
Who thee abroad, exposed to public view,
Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge,
Where errors were not lessened (all may judge).
At thy return my blushing was not small,
My rambling brat (in print) should mother call,
I cast thee by as one unfit for light,
The visage was so irksome in my sight;
Yet being mine own, at length affection would
Thy blemishes amend, if so I could.
I washed thy face, but more defects I saw,
And rubbing off a spot still made a flaw.
I stretched thy joints to make thee even feet,
Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet;
In better dress to trim thee was my mind,
But nought save homespun cloth i' th' house I find.
In this array 'mongst vulgars may'st thou roam.
In critic's hands beware thou dost not come,
And take thy way where yet thou art not known;
If for thy father asked, say thou hadst none;
And for thy mother, she alas is poor,
Which caused her thus to send thee out of door.

Pictures for Patrick!

While on the road between Sioux Falls and Mission, I took some photos of some of our favorite S.D. places for Patrick to enjoy. Here they are! (Patrick already knows what these things are, but I'll add some commentary for anyone else reading...)

This is the world famous Corn Palace, in Mitchell. The outside of the building is decorated in corn cobs, corn husks, millet, and stuff like that; there's a new theme every year. Last summer we laughed to see birds trying to steal the millet. (I didn't see any birds this time.)



Here are a few more shots of details...


Here we see the theme (on the marquis in front)...





... and this scene seemed especially timely, given our recent historic and fabulous inauguration of PRESIDENT OBAMA (that never gets old).









This is on the bottom of the lightposts. Isn't it cute?

I got lunch at our favorite coffee shop--still run by the same people.




A bit further down the interstate, just before the town of Chamberlain, there's a fantastic rest stop, of all things, with a mini Lewis and Clark museum kind of thing. The indoor part was closed, but my favorite part is outside, where you get to walk on a path that looks over the Missouri River.

This view is looking northeast-ish...














... this one's looking straight in front (north)...

(notice the bluffs across the river)












... and this one's looking west-ish. Notice that the river is completely frozen! I saw ice fishing hut-tent-thingies as I drove over the bridge.





Here's a bird-and-other-wildlife report for Dexter (and ducky): while driving, I saw a couple red-tailed hawks, possibly an eagle, lots of pigeons (in Sioux Falls, but none out here on the prairie), some antelope, a few deer, and a whole bunch of TURKEYS. They were HUGE!

And here are a few shots of my favorite views in S.D.--looking out over the prairie, and to the bluffs. These were taken on or very close to the Rosebud Reservation.


























These two photos give a little bit of an idea of why I'm here... I left a piece of myself here the first time I saw it. Or maybe the better way to say it is that I FOUND a piece of myself here.

Thank you, Patrick, for making this all possible!!!

Okay to go

I have arrived in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where I am spending the night before I make the 5-hour drive to the Rosebud Reservation. My partner, who grew up in eastern South Dakota, insisted, and it sounded like a good idea after three connecting flights, so here I am. Thanks to the really nice person at the Enterprise Rental counter, I got a half-price room! yeeha!

The title of this post refers to the moment in Contact when Jodi Foster's character is scared as heck, but keeps telling mission control that she's ready to be blasted off into space; the ship is shaking so badly that she's being thrown around, and her voice is bumpy, but she just keeps repeating "Okay to go. Okay to go." I think I had a few of those moments this morning--I want to go, but boy is it hard to leave.

This morning was difficult, with last-minute decisions about stuff to put in--or take out--of my suitcase. It's hard to pack for a whole month in an isolated place--I have trouble figuring out what I'll need. But they have a grocery there, and I'll have a car, so I took out a few more things... So there was the hurry-scurry that always happens the day of departure. And some anxiety about the condition of the roads, after yesterday's snow-and-ice storm. And then there were the tears, too. I can't believe I won't see my family for a month; I'm going to miss them terribly. I bet my boy is going to be taller when I get home. It hurts that I'm not going to be there for him when he feels bad, or needs to talk out a question, or wants to share something funny. I'm missing a part of his life, and that feels really sad.

And then there's the slight dread--as in, I hope I'm not making a horrible mistake by setting out on this adventure. But adventures require risk. I'm usually a very risk-averse person, but this is the kind of risk I feel like I need to take in order to move forward. This adventure holds the possibility of growth, both for me and my family. So here I go.

I am headed to the Rosebud Reservation, home of Sinte Gleska University, where I have been given permission to sit in on a month's worth of a class about Lakota culture. The class, on ceremony & health, is taught by an elder I've met there briefly a couple times in years past. I'll be staying in Mission, at a place I've stayed before, thanks to some very generous people who host my university's group for spring break work.

I also hope to explore the area more (weather permitting); I'd like to see Wounded Knee. I brought with me some books to read (though I expect to buy more at the university bookstore), and knitting projects to work on. I even brought a little bit of roving to spin with a spindle. With enough books and enough fiber at my disposal, I imagine I'll be happy as a clam.

I also hope to meet people, learn from them, and share with them. My highest hopes are to make some new friends.

Wish me luck!
Karen