Day 6 {Emelia}

The sun rose in Pine Ridge on a tattered American flag, waving in the unobstructed South Dakota wind. Light slowly inundated the land, illuminating the remnants of the flag hung above three secluded hilltop graves. This image resonates as a reflection of what this land represents: the fallibility of the United States, the loss of life, and the persistence of time.

I imagine our country as the pieces of the American flag that clung to the pole. The massacres, sterilization, and germ warfare that saturate the history of Native Americans prove a conscious attempt by the U.S. government and its people to erase a rich culture, quickly labeled as savage, under the illusion of manifest destiny. The land of the free and the home of the brave: I think of Ta-nehisi Coates emphasizing that “one cannot, at once, claim to be superhuman and then plead mortal error.” The desire to maintain the image of an unadulterated flag overtakes the desire to maintain humanity. Will the government ever acknowledge the massacre at Wounded Knee?

The United States is in fact a wind-torn, sun-bleached, flag with a past. To ignore that past is to let those with privilege live in an illusion of greatness and force the wronged into hidden suffering. However, as much as we try and force the Lakota to be a people of this past, I have heard here the stories of people living, thriving, and fighting for the present.

Emelia

Amanecer - Day 5 {Karla}

Amanecer

El sol florece entre los arboles y las montanas

La promesa eterna

El aire que habre el espiritu y pinta el corazon con su fuego

La lengua de la tierra esta seca, contaminada, violada, torturada

Su voz perdida hace tiempo debajo de la bota del hombre blanco

El cementerio esta lleno y jimiendo

Las tumbas preparadas

Esperando.

-

Who are we

Are we the sun that blooms,

Draping its rainbow cloak over Pine Ridge,

The trees pinning its crown to their chests,

The sacred oil of their wisdom causing the blue, yellow, red orange colors to pulse,

Expand, navigate towards the rivers

Are we

The badlands

Where silence prowls to the entranced silhouettes

Causing their bones to tremble at the impossibility of its magic

Feeling their beings evaporate into the sky

Rich in its art—

Storms, sand hills, sunny skies, vivid pinks all part of the same canvas

Or are we

The blood that has drowned every crevice of the plains

Crusting, scabbing the mountains

Weighing the trees, gorging the wind with the smell of iron

Are we

The howling of the innocent, the sacred children

That harpoons your soul at Wounded Knee

Are we

The plastic food that contaminates the forests of the body

The alcohol which possesses the tongue, the hands, the eyes

The mind

Are we

The women that don’t realize they’ve been sterilized

Her womb transformed into a battleground

Another trophy hung among the crown of thorns of colonialism

Are we

The youth that’s intimate with suicide

What are we

What are we

What are we

Are we

The battle cry that ignites the earth when a Lakota’s feet touches the ground each morning

The elder who shares her story and the roots of her people

Her native language a resistance

A lightning storm captivating the spirits

A hurricane that cannot be untangled from the beadwork of the universe

Are we

The young woman that walks to her ancestors

Her shoulders back, her steps sure and her voice unwavering

Are we

The man holding the drum of life

His long hair braided down his broad back,

His words blunt and unforgiving

Truth is his fuel

Are we

The young man who stands in front of Wounded Knee

Telling the story of the massacre that sent his people into a mass grave

Telling the story of the wealth of his tribe

His face exhausted but his heart strong

Resilience in his song

Day 3 {Jake}

inilia. looked into the windows of my soul.

and i. looked into his eyes.

he said,

you. are someone. you are not.

you. were a spirit with a purpose. before.

you were a body.

listen. to your visions. listen. to your dreams.

they are trying. to communicate. what your purpose is.

you. are a prayer. thrown. a javelin in an attempt to bullseye the moon.

they. allow your flight. gravity. does not.

 you. are caught. with a thud. and a gasp. as you pierce. her heart.

when she could not sleep. at night, in darkness. and she asked god.

 for a friend. for a laugh. for a smile. for a refuge. for a being. That would only. just. listen.

god answered.

they.

sent you.

jake 

Day 3 {Fahad}

“And we don’t smoke or drink,” Susie explained as she was selling us their crafts. She also emphasized her family – her (adorable) grandkids and their success in school. “Yes, life is good.”

In my narrative-drunk head, I wondered about the pressures on native artists to be “clean,” reminding me of the drive to find “clean/innocent” Black victims of police brutality, as well as the search for a Rosa Parks as the perfect moral symbol for the civil rights movement. I asserted to myself it is outrageous to  impose your moral code on a people that has had its fundamental rights violated, identity assaulted, and their basic human needs left unfulfilled.

Thankfully, I ended my intellectual masturbation by asking her about the issue. Without missing a beat of her congenial grandma cadence, Susie explained she hadn’t encountered any buyers pressuring her about sobriety, and it’s natural to not want your money going for a person’s drink. Further, she’s proud she doesn’t smoke or drink, and said she has no problems exercising those bragging rights.

Day 2 {Lucas}

Today we went to the site of the Massacre at Wounded Knee. We were able to hear from tribal member and Re-Member staffer, Dakota High Hawk. He told us about the massacre of 1890 and the Wounded Knee incident in 1973 where the Oglala Lakota and members of AIM protested the treatment of Native American tribes. It was really incredible  to hear about what happened at Wounded Knee from Dakota, who is a descendent of a survivor. I felt I connected because we were sitting on a hill looking down at a field where so many people were killed. 

I have been hearing about Wounded Knee since middle school and I think both events that happened there are so important to U.S. History. That is why, it was shocking to me that there was only a small monument in the middle of a small gravesite. You could drive past Wounded Knee without realizing it. There is a hand painted sign and a small museum that is falling apart and currently closed. The lack of visitor center or museum was so tangible and helped me understand the socio-economic depression in Pine Ridge even more. 

Dakota discussed how the U.S. has tried time and time again to sanitize U.S. history. He told us that over time so many people and events are "forgotten." When I told people I was going on this trip they were confused. Some people didn't understand why I would "waste" my spring break....others didn't know what Pine Ridge or Wounded Knee were. I felt today like Wounded Knee has been forgotten; forgotten by the history books, forgotten by the government, forgotten by people. I hope that someday soon Pine Ridge and Wounded Knee will be remembered. 

Day 1 and 2 {Will}

visiting the Badlands

Waking up at 5 am is never fun. However, this time i knew it was going to be totally worth it. The trip itself to Pine Ridge was not bad at all. Very few delays and everything appeared fine. I thought I had an expectation of what the area would look like as we drove from Rapid City to Re-Members headquarters in Pine Ridge, however when we able to get out of the van to see the Badlands I was completely blown away. I had never seen something so empty, yet filled so much. When we got to our living quarters I was happy to longer need to be anywhere, yet disappointed that there was not a Powwow that evening. No matter how tired I was, I still wanted to have an experience that one can call once in a lifetime. After much reflection we made it to sleep.

My apologies for my brief day one summary and reaction, for I am writing this on Day 2. Day 2 has been one of the most memorable moments of my life. The stories and other words of wisdom provided to us by Dakota High Hawk in Wounded Knee was truly an experience that cannot be matched. The insight and reflection that he offered opened my mind. Then the walk through the Badlands National Park has been one of the most spectacular places I have ever visited. One of the staffer, David, told us to pick a part in one of the valleys of the mountains and just reflect in silence. There was not a single sound to here in those 15 minutes. Asides from the occasional wind gust or volunteer adjusting themselves on the rocky surface, I was finally able to get complete, and utter silence and an opportunity to reflect without any distractions.

Will M.