Hopefully this post will be the first of a series. I cannot go on blogging much longer without bringing up my experiences this past summer on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. I traveled there with a wonderful group of close friends and two teachers a few weeks after graduating high school-- a trip we had been preparing for for about a year. We went with plans to to run a Bible camp for some of the children out there, and with the intent of keeping open hearts and minds to the beautiful Lakota culture.
While there, we had the tremendous privilege of meeting with and listening to some of the kindest, wisest, and most spiritually powerful people I have ever met. We would sit down with them (always sitting, as Arlo's Uncle Jim explained, because you never really listen unless your seated eye to eye) and listen for hours and hours to their stories of their culture, and accounts of the woes of the reservation today. I would love to bring you all of these stories, however I could never do them any justice relaying to you. But there are a few that cannot go untold, and this is the first of several:
Leonard Littlefinger, a highly respected and intently busy man of about 70, with a remarkable memory and, its worth mentioning, one of the most intelligent and worldly people I've come across, spoke with us a few different times during our stay in the Pine Ridge. This man has lived quite a full life-- he has traveled and worked around the world, fought tirelessly for his people's rights, devoted a great deal of his life to preserving Lakota culture (he speaks English, of course, as well as Lakota, and I'm pretty certain he knows a few other languages), and for a brief time, as he puts it, (i.e. about a decade) he taught in the public school system on the reservation so that he could truly understand the sorry shape of his people's schools. And now, at over 70 years old, he is preparing to open a school that he has formed and built through his global efforts, that will educated Lakota children in their own culture, language, and traditions, as opposed to the imposed education system that is truly detrimental to the continuity of their culture. When asked if he thinks he'll ever slow down or retire, he just chuckles a little to himself. This is a man deeply invested in the well being of all those around him. Being in his presence, you can sense the burden he gracefully carries and have nothing but respect for him.
Amidst his busy schedule, he took a good chunk of time out of his day to spend an afternoon with us to tell us about his family's history. We turned off of the main road, down a dirt driveway to the middle of an open field where a modest and traditional shade structure. We met Littlefinger there, and all sat down amongst the various benches and former car seats scattered under the shade. It was a hot day, but in the shade, by the water, with a constant slow breeze, it was cool and peaceful. Leonard began by making sure we all knew about the Massacre of Wounded Knee, which happened about 20 miles from where we were.
The Massacre of Wounded Knee, recognized by the US Gov't as the "Battle" of Wounded Knee until the 1980's, occurred on December 29, 1890. A group of 250 Sioux women and children, plus about 100 warriors, had finally turned themselves into the U.S. Calvary and were being transported onto their new land, after the government took away more of their reservation land. That night, (now, there is some speculation on what actually happened, so I will be telling from what I heard on the reservation, as it is the best anyone can figure) as they were setting up camp, the Sioux were in the valley, and the Calvary was keeping watch from an encampment atop the hill-- where they had four Hotchkiss guns aimed at the camp below. All of the weapons were collected and heaped in a stock pile. As a few soldiers were doing a final round of checks, one weapon fell from the pile and discharged on its own. At that, the soldiers opened fire from the hill on the innocent women and children below and unarmed men.
Leonard Littlefinger's grandfather and great great grandfather-- Chief Big Foot, leader of the Lakota-- were there. Chief Big Foot was killed in the massacre, and his grandfather, at about 12 years old, survived. In fact, most of the survivors were young boys. In the negative temperatures, they were the only ones that stood any chance of escape. Their mothers told them to run, keep running, through the night, as far as they possibly could. His grandfather had been shot in the leg and ankle, and yet he ran through the frigid night and hid, by himself, for the next year and a half in a valley twenty miles away, constantly moving to avoid the U.S. troops who were looking for survivors.
His grandfather eventually settled on the land we were sitting on, listening to Leonard tell us this. He raised his family there, and its where Leonard was raised. It is still his land. The story of Wounded Knee likely makes you mad, it should infuriate you, ignite a righteous passion for justice. And yet the real power of this story is one of healing. Leonard and his family have grown up with the understanding that the country they live in tried to kill them-- this country of freedom and democracy. Leonard remembers fishing with his grandfather, and looking at the scars on his leg from Wounded Knee. And yet, he strongly believes in a statement his grandfather said to him, which he shared with us:
The bloody waters will always run crystal clear again.
This statement from a man who still feels in his family and his community the pain and loss of the Massacre. From a man who lives on a reservation with 85% alcoholism, and 85% unemployment. A community stricken with gang violence. A people with a life expectancy about 20 years less than the national average, and an infant mortality rate twice the national average. 69% of children that do survive live below the poverty line. (Statistics from Red Cloud Indian School)
If this man has no time for cynicism, then nobody does.
So in closing, I invite you to do what Leonard Littlefinger told us to do: Take what's beautiful of cultures you experience and incorporate them into your own life. And trust that the bloody waters will always run crystal clear again.
Mitakuye Oyasin
AS a SIDE NOTE: Leonard Littlefinger also played an NPR show for us that day which he had recorded a few years ago about the repatriation of a lock of his great great grandfather's, Chief Big Foot, hair which was taken after he was killed at Wounded Knee. Please take some time to the listen to the story, it can much more eloquently portray the events than I, and gives a wonderful insight into Lakota culture. Find the story at this link:
I envy your trip out West. I wasn't anywhere you were spiritually after my graduation. Isn't it remarkable what one can learn when they sit and listen? Perhaps, I will revisit solitude as a spiritual discipline this summer. Thanks for sharing your experience and reflections.
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