Sharing from the Heart

Sharing from the Heart

The morning after the action in White Clay, a debriefing was called for,. It began popcorn style (any one could speak when they wished). After a few folks had spoken, we were asked by Vic, the male member of the family whose land were were on, and who led many of the activities, asked if we could instead go around the circle in the Lakota way—each one taking a turn to speak, one after the other, all around the circle.

Vic even went and fetched the “young warriors” to come to the circle also to say their piece. I was continuously struck at the level of discipline the young men seemed to have. They were always quiet around us, and seemingly to themselves. I also felt from them, an ancestral presence of young men--braves--who would go out to battle for the tribe, and the training that is required for one to be able to go into battle—unafraid, or at least with the spirit of the true warrior.

Each person spoke from the heart, there was so much that was said, I cannot even remember. I said in a post a while back that I would talk about what happened for me, as I have now had time to process it, and feel that I am ready to speak of what transpired.

As I waited my turn to speak, I felt a little uneasy, as I really didn't know what to say. I didn't want to sound trite, and I didn't want to say something just to be saying it. As it was coming to be my turn, I called upon my ancestors to help me to find the words that seemed to be forming inside of me, but had not yet risen to the surface.

What came forth as I began to speak felt so very right. I started by thanking them for having us here, as many of the others had. I also thanked them for the gift they had given me of being able to feel what it felt like to be a part of a tribe. My people were the stolen ones—stolen from their lands, and my people had lost the sense of belonging and connection to each other and to Mother Earth because we never again have had land to call our own. My own family have mostly been colonized, and I don't blame them for this, it is one of the ways we have had to survive as a race—adopting the values of the dominant culture in order to be successful. Yet, in my own family, I have always been the weird one because I honor and worship Mother Earth, because it has been in this way, I have been able to have land that I belong to.

At this point, I broke down completely, and before I knew it, Vic had wrapped his arms around me and was hugging me. I whispered in his ear that I'd never known a father, and those few moments of being in his fatherly embrace completed some missing part of myself. Then I next was surrounded by Debra WhitePlume who was wafting sage at me, and Oluwan who was holding my hand and telling me that she understood. She said “I once met a Black man who reminded me that while we have always known that America was built on stolen lands, it was also built with stolen hands”. This caused me to simply weep out loud, because I really felt a sudden sense of kin and understanding. I realized that throughout my life, I have sought and sought to find my kin—those who would understand the longing in my spirit to belong to a tribe, to belong to a group of people who understood. I cannot express here how very powerful those few moments were for me. I suddenly felt a pain I'd carried for all of my life dropping away, as I felt surrounded by the love of these people, who were in some loving way, taking me in as their own. Also, I was hugged, then by sweet Jessica, another African American who'd been there during the weekend, handling the press coverage of the event. We hugged tightly, and she exclaimed that she'd not thought, herself, how lost she has always felt in America, and in her world, and that my speaking up had also changed something inside for her. We held each other and cried together, knowing for those moments, the pain we knew our ancestors had to have known—coming to this land— brutally stolen from their own..Yet now, also knowing that there are those who get it, who do understand the pain of always having to fight for your rights--the right to live where you want to, the right to your ways, your religion, your life, your very being.

These moments of sharing from our hearts saw many amazing feelings come forth. After what happened for me, another Indigenous woman from a tribe way off the coast of Canada spoke, and with tears streaming down her face, spoke of being a “Red Activist” all of her life, and that work had always been about fighting against the colonization brought on by the white ruling class, and she said from her heart--”now, because you have come to stand with us, we have to make room for you, and take you all in”. In other words, her resistance has been against the Euro rooted ruling class that has oppressed the Indigenous and peoples of color since the inception of “the United States”. Yet, as white folks begin to understand the interconnectedness that the oppressed have always known, we have to let you stand with us and be a part of our struggle—we realize it is truly the only way things are going to change...

As the circle drew to a close, we got to listen once again to the wisdom of Debra WhitePlume, the longtime activist, and wise Indigenous woman among us. She spoke of so much, of education and learning each others' ways, so that we might better come to stand together. Earlier in the weekend, she'd told us the story of the “fat takers”. The story of those who come from all cultural groups who steal from others by taking what is best. It helped us to release the sense of longstanding guilt about the treatment of the Native folk when we realize that we could all be “fat takers”, and how important it is to be mindful of our actions, of learning how to give back, how to share, how to love Mother Earth enough to work for Her and Her children, and to not take more than we truly need from others.

I was a little surprised but joyful in my heart when the time came for a closing prayer from an elder, and all of the Native folks in the circle turned and looked at me. I gratefully offered a closing prayer of thanks to all of our ancestors who had come to stand with us the previous day, and to implore that they continue to stand with us as this battle carries on, for all of their help would be needed to bring forth the change we so desperately need in this world we all share..