WORKING DRAFT: "A Room Without a View: Challenges to Democracy and Native Nation Building, A View by a Sicangu Lakota Woman During the COVID-19 Pandemic

A Room Without a View: Challenges to Democracy and Native Nation Building, a View by a Sicangu Lakota Woman During the COVID-19 Pandemic

By Lynne M. Colombe

WORKING DRAFT OF ARTICLE (Sections: Background of Author and Introduction) Date: 2/17/2021

BACKGROUND OF AUTHOR

The year 2016 would begin a change in my life; one initiated via the exit from a comfortable career with the Tribal school that I had enjoyed program direction for three years. I had been seeking a way to free myself from the oppression and social constraints that I felt were diminishing my ability to work in Native American Education on my home reservation, the Rosebud Sioux Reservation. It was May 2016, and I didn’t know what I would do next, but I took a leap of faith and non-continued my contract with the school for the fourth year. I had made a decision based largely on my own reflection of the meaning of Eleanor Roosevelt’s quote, “Noone can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

From this starting point, I meandered through the first summer of non-secure employment by doing fundraisers with my younger sister. The greatest of these was a fireworks stand that we ran together out of the front of my house in the community of Rosebud (the Reservation has twenty-two communities) over the Fourth of July holiday. Sadly, within weeks of our venture together, my twenty-four-year-old younger sister and her less than seven month old son, my nephew, were killed in a car accident that claimed a total of five lives on July 17, 2016. Devastated by this horrific event, I began an internal search for a meaning outside of myself without first recognizing it.

It was early August of 2016 when the news of Standing Rock came to be known by almost all members of the Great Sioux Nation. Located four to five hours drive south of the Standing Rock Indian Reservation, Rosebud Tribal members began to gain a momentum of support and involvement at Standing Rock. In mid-August, I would organize a small delegation with a friend to follow the Rosebud Sioux Tribal members who were riding a bus up to Standing Rock; and we followed this group loaded down with supplies for what would become, “Rosebud Camp.” In this one-day journey, my friends and I would unload supplies, survey the roads to Standing Rock, contribute what we could, and then go back home to Rosebud. However, when I returned from Standing Rock late that night, I could not sleep. I was moved by what I had seen, and felt an internal calling; a question that caused me to declare to myself, “I can do more.”

From this point, I would move forward and create my own fundraising campaign, and thereafter spend the next six months engaged in the struggle for clean water by protesting the Dakota Access Pipeline. I would stand alongside the tens of thousands of people who had gone to Standing Rock to join the struggle and show their solidarity for the Oceti Sakowin (Seven Council Fires, or Tribes) who were joined together in the plight to, “Kill the Black Snake.” From the late winter to early spring in 2017, when those who were involved in camp life, supporting the camps, and creating indigenous media to document the Native American struggle for clean water were moving out of the camps due to forced removal, a shift in my own rhetoric had begun; a rhetoric of sovereignty and the power of the individual to affect change. This came at a high cost, for it took many months, and even up to two years, to feel recharged and recovered from all that I had experienced at Standing Rock; and one thing was certain: my life would never be the same. Post-Standing Rock, I began an adjustment to an entirely different world view that included: humility, loss, and a search for equality and freedom that I would not immediately be able to articulate.

In a simple way of introducing myself, I adhere to something I heard often at the Sacred Stone Camp at Standing Rock when someone would begin to speak, “I am nobody,” to which I would add that I come from the Sicangu Lakota, the Burnt Thigh Nation, and I come to you with a good heart. I come with prayer and good wishes for all of the oyate (people).” 

I was born at the Rosebud Sioux Indian Health Services (IHS) Hospital in 1974, during the greatest time of the year - The Rosebud Sioux Tribal Fair and Rodeo. My arrival was a surprise, as my mother didn’t know she would have identical twins until the night she went into labor, after getting home late from the pow-wow. Being born “chekpa,” or a twin, especially an identical twin, has always been a great honor. I had a fortunate childhood as the daughter from a providential mixed-blood cattle ranching and farming family on my father’s side; and a culturally rich and Lakota-language centered tiospaye (extended family) on my mother’s side. From birth I would have to learn to “ride the fence between both worlds.” Education was a huge emphasis on both sides of my family, and I studied at tribal and state universities to gain my bachelor’s degree in Secondary Education/English in 1999; and a master of arts in Language, Reading and Culture from the University of Arizona in 2002. It was at Black Hills State University in South Dakota that I would become a teacher; and via my education and introduction to the Native Nations Institute the spring semester of 2002 that I would begin a life-long study of “Native Nation Building,” as it pertained to my place in the world as an independent scholar and as an indigenous woman.

INTRODUCTION

The Coronavirus Disease 2019 (COVID-19) global pandemic will be a historical event in written and oral history that, over time, will illustrate the various responses that Native American Tribes have developed to serve their people during the centennial crisis. Within my own experiences as a Tribal member, I have watched, listened and learned as much as possible about the ways that the Rosebud Sioux Tribe has responded to provide service, assistance, and relief to Tribal citizens on and off the Reservation. Through these observations, I have internalized a well-known theme in my life of oppression; identified with the struggle for liberation from the constraints of cultural oppression; and obsessively analyzed the realities of meeting the needs of the tribal people: versus the intent of doing so. Progressively, a sense of urgency grew within me; and I began to research how the COVID-19 pandemic was not only being responded to by the Tribal Governmental Order, Establishment, and Oyate (People) constituting, “The Tribe;” but how local, state, and the national governments were responding to meeting the needs of their constituents. From my observations in Rosebud, South Dakota and Rapid City, South Dakota from February 2020 to present, the overriding theme of oppression began to rear its head.

For months of casual research, photography, working as an editor for the Rosebud Sioux Tribal newsletter (ending September 31, 2020), and simply dealing with everyday life during a global pandemic, different themes began to emerge that I could identify; but I continued to search for the reason behind my thirst for this knowledge in the first place.  I didn’t initially connect to the fact that I am a minority woman, a Sicangu Lakota (Sioux) winyan (woman), who was not only overwhelmed with the presence of poverty, need, and inequality around me; but who was a member of the community of which I was unintentionally studying; and who was also, in fact, a person in the group of “The Oppressed.” 

The themes that I begin to identify as I observed the response to the COVID-19 pandemic began as funding for Native American Tribes was being allocated and delivered to Tribes. Working as a local editor at the time, I began to compile research of Native American Tribes across the country; and used prior knowledge of “Natve Nation Building” from the Udall Center/University of Arizona training to seek exemplary practices among Tribes in responding to the pandemic with three key factors that I admired: 1) strategic planning of resources and their delivery; 2) indicators of equality and dialogue with Tribal Governments in Native American Tribal response to its members; and 3) democratic processes of communicating the actions of the Tribal Government, programs, initiatives, and strategic planning in place to its Tribal members (the Tribe). In an informal way of researching at home, I began to compare these practices that I thought were good examples of Native Nation Building; and I compared them with the oral history that people were creating about our own Tribal response around me. This oral history was shared in person during various conversations with many people in my Tribe living on and off the Reservation; but moreover from conversations on social media and in message conversations with other Rosebud Sioux Tribal members, including family. From this, I began to form a more strategic purpose for research, with a goal of creating a dialogue among the Oyate (the Tribe) about the resources that were allocated to the Reservation; and publicly questioned the democratic processes in place and accountability in reporting to the people how COVID-19 funding was being used to assist the Oyate (the Tribe) as a whole.

During this time, I didn’t understand that my questioning was a political act. I found myself being isolated from my peers on social media as I posed questions about different Tribal issues that seemed unfair, unjust, or inequitable. I spent a lot of time listening to individuals in the past year; and have observed a polarization of the Oyate (the Tribe) into categories of separate people during the pandemic, rather than the Oyate (the Tribe) united to fight the virus together. The reaction of Tribal Government and many within what I call, “The Order,” has favored that of oppression, and has created a rhetoric of propaganda aimed at the common citizen who expressed discontent with services on social media. 

“When you say something about ‘the Tribe’ you are talking bad about us; and if you bring up any names, you don’t like that person.”

“It is not ‘the Tribe’s’ responsibility to take care of anyone; everyone should be taking care of their own families. I work. I take care of my family. So if you can’t take care of your family, you aren’t doing your job; or you’re lazy.”

“You are a bad Lakota, and disrespectful when you say things. And people who like to complain just like to ‘cry around’ and are probably unhappy in their life.”

“All people do is complain. People should just shut up and be grateful for what ‘the Tribe’ 

does for them.”

“You just hate ‘the Tribe. Why do you have to be so negative?”

I have observed and have heard the voices of many individuals on the Reservation who feel an increasing dissension and alienation from the Tribal Government due to a lack of democratic participation and transparency of Tribal Government activities, meetings, and actions. Yet, because of the fear of retaliation and being subjected to public ridicule on social media or fear of social ostracization, people are subdued into silence when they have valid complaints. 

With most offices and services closed to the public for nearly a year, a dialogue that is not favorable to our Lakota Way of Life, or “Wolakota,” has become a languishing construct rather than the “We Are All Related” or “Mitakuye Oyasin” culture that we have been taught. Comparing oral traditions of what Sicangu Lakota people learn as we grow up in the insular world of the Reservation, with what we can democratically participate in around us, creates one of many paradoxes.

After mulling about in my own ideas for four months, reading numerous articles, and trying to understand the purpose behind my own thinking; I struggled with the oppressive views of my peers and felt increasingly isolated, even rejected. Then, as I began to organize my thoughts to create a writing that would address my ideas, thoughts, and research on the questions that I was obsession over, I finally came to a catharsis and starting point by rereading Paulo Friere’s, “Pedagogy of the Oppressed.” From this reading, I found not only a connection to why I was having so many inner conflicts with the constructs of social inequality theories that plagued my thinking, but I began to see myself in the reflection stage of the “Organized Struggle,” for my own “Liberation.” 

Consider this quote from Paulo Friere: “The central problem is this: How can the oppressed, as divided, unauthentic beings, participate in developing the pedagogy of their liberation?”

Therefore, I think it necessary to declare the purpose of this article. First, I would like to assert that as a cultural insider, the writing that I am undertaking on this subject is authentic (a topic of its own which I divulge into later). This article will combine an analytical review of research about constructing a pedagogy and dialogue between the Oyate (the Tribe) and its Tribal Government that employs democratic process and participation; with creating empirical evidence specific to the Rosebud Sioux Tribe and its Government, programs, entities and institutions and provision of services during the pandemic. 

To achieve this, direct action will be taken (by the author) to gather empirical evidence from Tribal Government, Tribal programs, and Tribal entities with regard to: COVID-19 pandemic assistance and resources; services during the Pandemic to Tribal members, including but not limited to: interviews, questionnaires, memos to ask for voluntary information, and formal requests for meeting minutes/other. The article will also examine the concepts of liberty, and how COVID-19 as a historical event has created the need for a new rhetoric among the Oyate (the Tribe) that promotes social and political change. Additionally, the article will attempt to define the scope of the problems faced by Sicangu Lakota people during and after the pandemic relevant to: democratic participation, socio-economic factors, cultural match, leadership, historical trauma, the polarization of Tribal society, and the propaganda used to oppress. 

This article is in itself a liberating action which:

1. Creates a dialogue that leads to an awareness of our human condition;

2. Promotes humanity and re-examines the Lakota Way of Life (Wolakota);

3. Analyzes the political forces and influences that affect us as a Tribal Nation;

4. Examines the economic influences, resources, and institutions of our Tribal Nation, with future implications; 

5. Explores the impact of COVID-19 as a historical event and the critical discovery of dehumanization via humanitarian generosity;

6. Identifies the “myths” created and developed to oppress the Oyate (the Tribe) in both a historical and contemporary context;

7. Examines the ambiguity in our currently Tribal Government structure that hinders Democracy;

8. Examines how violence is the result of a need for liberty and a restoration of our identity as a Sicangu Lakota Oyate (Tribe, All People of the Tribe)