#NoDAPL #NoDakotaAccess #Stand4StandingRock
Stand for Standing Rock
By Lynne Colombe
Mitakuyapi, le miye ZiZiWin. Hello my relatives, I am Yellow Woman. I have never used that name, "Yellow Woman," in writing. It was a name that my great-grandmother, Carrie Roubideaux-Bordeaux, gave to me because I did not have "an Indian name." She gave me her name because I am an identical twin; and I was born jaundiced. And, because that was her name, so she gave it to me.
There was no ceremony, no feather placed in my hair, no kiss upon my forehead. My great-grandmother and great-grandfather on my mother's side were the only grandparents on that side I would ever really know. My maternal grandmother passed away when my mother was only 15 years old; and my material grandfather lived out of state and had a different family.
I think of my childhood as "peculiar" in many ways. First, because I am 1/2 White and live on an Indian Reservation; and secondly, because I am 1/2 Indian living in one of the most racist and discriminatory places in the United States that you could live. I know this; because I have lived elsewhere, and no place like Wal-Mart in Pierre, South Dakota can ever let me forget... that my skin is a shade darker than theirs.
I didn't want to forget that I was Sicangu Lakota, but as a young kid I wanted to "get the hell out of South Dakota and go live somewhere a million miles away;" so I have lived in Colombia South America, just to make sure and get as far away at least once in life. I came back. I have lived a number of years in Tucson, Arizona. I came back.
When you are from "the Rez," you will always, "come back," or "go home," or "Come down there" (even when you live South and are travelling North). When you are from the Rez, you usually return to the Rez often; because its like being Amish (but they let you come home)... For both cultures, your way of life is there, only your religion is there, and only your family is there. It is pretty homogenous and easy to see how you would want to return from time-to-time and remind yourself why you are so distinct from others in the Pan-USA; but so very much the same as everyone in the small town you return to.
So, I've been home here in the Rosebud for three years.... THREE YEARS (OMG)! I have not lived on this Reservation for 3 years straight since I was 21 years old. I used to do like 10 months of a teaching year and BOUNCE! But, with my father getting older, my baby sister recently passing (with my nephew in her arms), and having been given a house here by my father.... well, here I am.
I decided last Spring to try to do something different with my life. Then, my little sister passed away, so a whole month went by in a blurr until BOOM! Pipeline. Camp. Oh! My Tribe! They were going to Cannonball, ND!
So, I jumped into the "Fight for the Water," because I had willing hands and an open mind. The water that I want to help save is the Missouri River; because it flows in or out of every natural standing watershed, river, stream, dam, lake, etc on our Reservation. I cannot begin to imagine the devastation to our people if our waters are polluted. Our people eat the fish they catch, the deer they shoot, and the birds they hunt. These animals eat and drink from the water. There is NO WAY our people can be subjected to those toxins in our soil and water. Most of the cows in America drink from the Missouri tributaries as well, so if you eat beef, you are going to eat tar sands if the Dakota Access Pipeline is allowed to drill into the Missouri River Basin and flood plains. All we have to do is search on the Internet "Canada" "First Nations" & "Tar Sands" to see our future if we let Dirty Tar Sands Pipeline through our lands - ANY of our lands!
PLEASE REMEMBER - You cannot drink oil. There is no by-product from tar sands oil except TOXINS. It takes too much water to filter the toxins and there is no where for poisoned water to go. Please! Keep our generations alive! Keep us cancer free! Save our WATER! #uncimaka #BigSiouxB4BigOil
Donate, Share, & Vote Against Tar Sands Oil
Contribute to our Fight for the Water!
Stand for Standing Rock
By Lynne Colombe
Mitakuyapi, le miye ZiZiWin. Hello my relatives, I am Yellow Woman. I have never used that name, "Yellow Woman," in writing. It was a name that my great-grandmother, Carrie Roubideaux-Bordeaux, gave to me because I did not have "an Indian name." She gave me her name because I am an identical twin; and I was born jaundiced. And, because that was her name, so she gave it to me.
There was no ceremony, no feather placed in my hair, no kiss upon my forehead. My great-grandmother and great-grandfather on my mother's side were the only grandparents on that side I would ever really know. My maternal grandmother passed away when my mother was only 15 years old; and my material grandfather lived out of state and had a different family.
I think of my childhood as "peculiar" in many ways. First, because I am 1/2 White and live on an Indian Reservation; and secondly, because I am 1/2 Indian living in one of the most racist and discriminatory places in the United States that you could live. I know this; because I have lived elsewhere, and no place like Wal-Mart in Pierre, South Dakota can ever let me forget... that my skin is a shade darker than theirs.
I didn't want to forget that I was Sicangu Lakota, but as a young kid I wanted to "get the hell out of South Dakota and go live somewhere a million miles away;" so I have lived in Colombia South America, just to make sure and get as far away at least once in life. I came back. I have lived a number of years in Tucson, Arizona. I came back.
When you are from "the Rez," you will always, "come back," or "go home," or "Come down there" (even when you live South and are travelling North). When you are from the Rez, you usually return to the Rez often; because its like being Amish (but they let you come home)... For both cultures, your way of life is there, only your religion is there, and only your family is there. It is pretty homogenous and easy to see how you would want to return from time-to-time and remind yourself why you are so distinct from others in the Pan-USA; but so very much the same as everyone in the small town you return to.
So, I've been home here in the Rosebud for three years.... THREE YEARS (OMG)! I have not lived on this Reservation for 3 years straight since I was 21 years old. I used to do like 10 months of a teaching year and BOUNCE! But, with my father getting older, my baby sister recently passing (with my nephew in her arms), and having been given a house here by my father.... well, here I am.
I decided last Spring to try to do something different with my life. Then, my little sister passed away, so a whole month went by in a blurr until BOOM! Pipeline. Camp. Oh! My Tribe! They were going to Cannonball, ND!
So, I jumped into the "Fight for the Water," because I had willing hands and an open mind. The water that I want to help save is the Missouri River; because it flows in or out of every natural standing watershed, river, stream, dam, lake, etc on our Reservation. I cannot begin to imagine the devastation to our people if our waters are polluted. Our people eat the fish they catch, the deer they shoot, and the birds they hunt. These animals eat and drink from the water. There is NO WAY our people can be subjected to those toxins in our soil and water. Most of the cows in America drink from the Missouri tributaries as well, so if you eat beef, you are going to eat tar sands if the Dakota Access Pipeline is allowed to drill into the Missouri River Basin and flood plains. All we have to do is search on the Internet "Canada" "First Nations" & "Tar Sands" to see our future if we let Dirty Tar Sands Pipeline through our lands - ANY of our lands!
PLEASE REMEMBER - You cannot drink oil. There is no by-product from tar sands oil except TOXINS. It takes too much water to filter the toxins and there is no where for poisoned water to go. Please! Keep our generations alive! Keep us cancer free! Save our WATER! #uncimaka #BigSiouxB4BigOil
Donate, Share, & Vote Against Tar Sands Oil
Contribute to our Fight for the Water!
I recognize so many parallel experiences through your blog entry. I have wondered at the level of fear and discrimination against Natives in SD my whole life. I moved away for 20 years, came back for 10 and left again as it seems no one had changed or evolved. Living life as "mostly white" but registered on the Rosebud has informed many of my decisions. I am grateful you returned! Lynne, you and I are cousins, though distant, because of shared ancestors but also because of shared experience. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteLynn, thank you for the conversation last weekend at Standing Rock. You a very good writer. I felt very comfortable in your camp. Hopefully, we can connect in the future.
ReplyDelete-Hobie Stocking
PrairieSkyGroup.com
Hi Lynn
ReplyDeleteI am Jose, the wasishu, from across the Great Water.
I also do not want to drink oil, and when I cut my self my blood is as red as yours.
My late father was, as you call, a water protector... and I feel it deeply and I thank him for so many things he taught me and only now I understand...thanks to you all Bros 'nd Sis overseas...!
In the begining of October I had a "dream", I was seing it both at eye level and with a bird's eye view:
There was great field / plains, splitted by a river, (which was half blue on the left, and almost black and dirty on the right.
The fields were green on the left, with grass and trees, and four legged, winged, crawlers and swimmer brothers, with teepees and bros and sis from all First Nations.
The fields on the right were dirty and with square houses and tall buildings, and smoky and smell bad.
Divinding the river into 2 branches was a huge mound, with piles of rocks, which one with a command stick or a spear decorated with beads and feathers and fringes, all looking very old, the colours vanishing and the fringes worned out by the Sum and the Winds...
The sky on the left was blue with fluffy passing clouds, but on the right it was dark red wit static, black menacing clouds, like if they were dead!
From the right came a "flock" of what seemed "birds", somewhat grey-bluish, making a strange noise as their "wings" flapped...and they looked mean and bad...
People on the green prairies was frightened, and the Braves begun shooting arrows against the flying-machines, no one missed but they kept on flying towards the green plains.
Then a herd of Tatanka assumed protective formation around a white teepee where there was a child, 17 of them, 16 around and the bigger bull at front facing those devilish machines.
Suddenly millions of golden butterflies flew up against the flying-machines, sacrificing them selves and falling back to the ground in a dense cloud of golden powder...
When the cloud touched the ground, a very old man appeared mounted on a horse, his eyes could not be seen as they were hidden by his so many wrinkles...
Everybody was afraid of the machines ans shouting and crying, and then he rose his left hand and everybody was quiet, and then he dropped his left hand and, with lightening speed, he rose his right hand throwing his tomahawk into the air, bheheading the bigger machine that was flying in comand... and it srated falling into the ground, and then all the other machines started to desintegrate...and the sound of metal pieces falling into the ground was deafening...
That was all, I know no more.
I thought it was a dream, perhaps because I was worried about SR..
After seing the Tatanka stamped, counting 17 Tatanka in the video, the white teepee is also there, and later seing the news that a child was born in a teepee, I thought I had to share this with you. I shared these words with some Native friends in the Red Road forum 3 weeks ago...every word. I am puzzled, but I think I was gifted with a vision... Younare free to share with the Elders... they will surely know...
Jose, the Limp Fox
Amazing blog and very interesting stuff you got here! I definitely learned a lot from reading through some of your earlier posts as well and decided to drop a comment on this one!
ReplyDeleteHi Lynne
ReplyDeleteI was suprised to discover my monetary contribution for Standing-Rock was a major one… I learned from the Native People there should not be "me" but "US". The money gathered was a joint effort from every body and I do not consider mine was greatest then the humbliest one…! The real Braves were the ones that were there, enduring the cold and the wind, the water cannons and the blast grenades, the dog's bites and the insults… those yes were the real Braves!
More then the money, every dawn and dusk I had all of you in my prayers, not wishing harm to anyone but just that the black-snake could be diverted from those lands, especially the sacred mounds…!
It might had not been a victory…much less a defeat…! Surely it seasoned people for othe battles to come… after all, the Tribes have some of the ultimate weapons: Honor, Prayer and Perseverance!
Respects to the Elders, those who were, still are and yet shall be again…
Joseph Limp-Fox, the wasishu!
Hey keep posting such good and meaningful articles.
ReplyDeleteI really appreciate your professional approach. These are pieces of very useful information that will be of great use for me in future.
ReplyDelete