OrigiNatives

“Neither neighborhood had very much knowledge or care about Native American culture, but that's okay because inside of my home I was getting a full dose of culture. From going to powwows, ceremonies and cultural events, I felt like I had everything I needed to be me.”

“When I moved from the rez to the city, I think I finally really started to think from an outside perspective about my culture, where I come from, who I am, and what matters to me. So much has been lost in Native culture that we are now working to revitalize, but one of the big things I personally believe in is that my culture is not static and has always existed and continued to grow despite what was taken from us.”

“The challenge of an Indigenous woman will always be difficult, but I always remember that I come from a long history of women who endured. Women who overcame, women who never gave up, women who made my existence possible. For them and the women coming after me, I will find peace in this chaotic world through the things that matter; love, forgiveness, gratitude, patience and faith. My journey is not over yet and my story has just begun.”

“If it wasn't for the community here in Minneapolis, I wouldn't know the power of praying with tobacco, I wouldn't know that beading and regalia making is soothing to the soul. That drumming would free me to grieve, or that dancing in regalia was attainable for me in my genderqueer self.”

“The largest influence on what I do today is knowing my dad beat in school for speaking Ojibwe language at the age of six. The reason why this is the most influential to me is that, if my father was literally beat for speaking our language, and nearly fifty-five years later, his daughter is learning the language, and pursuing her education to become a licensed Ojibwe teacher, then I broke the cycle.”

“I am as Native as my father. Old-school Native: my father his mother and grandmother were not traditionals. They were puritanical boarding school Christians… and in their legacy, still are. We are not stereotypes or filled with a woodland wisdom. We are jaded and cautious and hardworking and when we weep, we weep alone.”

“It wasn't until college that I met a good friend and she introduced me to the Native culture. I am not just talking religion, I'm talking about a way of life. The way I view the world both physically and spiritually. The meaning of family and the circle of life. Mino Bimaadiziwin! I finally felt like I fit, had somewhere to belong, and a whole new family. I could feel the healing of my ancestors as I grew. I am, today, a stronger Ojibwe woman.”

“My work has many layers to it but what is most important is that I humanize us in the context of 21st century peoples. The same way that organized religions and U.S. Government destroyed Indigenous peoples of the Americas is the same way that U.S. governments and corporations are exploiting us all today. I want to help empower ourselves and our allies to stand up to these tyrants that continually abuse power.”

“My life today is very good. I am surrounded by family I love and who love me. I create by writing. I attend our traditional ceremony. The presence of unhealed historical trauma impacts me as I see our community hurt by the cycle of trauma - both external like the high number of missing and murdered women and also how we ourselves continue to behave in so many dysfunctional ways. My intention for us would be that we could begin to see that we are more resilient than our trauma.”

“My identity as a Two-Spirit person is still incredibly important to me. For a long time, I didn't know if I had the "right" to call myself Two-Spirit. I didn't know any of the traditional roles that Métis and Ojibwe Two-Spirit people had. I am still learning, but I call myself Two-Spirit now as a way to recognize that I exist in the context of a long line of Two-Spirit Anishinaabe and Michif people.”

“When I started to look at my family’s military service, I also started to realize that American Indians, as a whole, have served in extremely high numbers in every war or conflict that America has ever been in. I also started to recognize that here was an incredible story that needed to be told; my dad and his three brothers, from the small reservation of Grand Portage, in northern Minnesota, all served in the military during the Vietnam Era, and all came back alive to tell about it.”

“Deep within myself, I was searching for something that I knew, but could not define that I understand today as the connection of our ancestors through blood memory. I realized I found what I was looking for when I went through ceremony and that was the connection to our ancestors and traditional way of life. My prayers were answered by support through programs in the community and our people who truly believed in our culture and traditions.”

“Little Earth taught me a lot about history, language, and tradition. It was the first place that I experienced both an asemaa ceremony and a full moon ceremony. I felt empowered and even more connected to the community and my own culture. It gave me a sense of pride and I began to realize how important it was to teach our young people their culture, language, and tradition.”

“The Wounded Knee Occupation 1973 changed my life, giving me cultural insight and great pride I was willing to give my life! The American Indian Movement gave me a "cause" that made it easier to be militant. I was a militant, the culture of our people put me on a road that continues to burn in my heart! …To this day my experiences produce intense pride and worth to have grown-up in an era that created change!”

“I was just Lakota all my life. No other thing. I never thought of myself as anything else except being Lakota. I knew my songs. I knew my ways. Now I’m at an age where I need to be more responsible in helping with naming, ceremony, and wiping of tears. I feel a lot of women need to step forward, especially older women, to start teaching our young women how to be women. I’m still learning in my age how to do all of that.”

“When we talked, we realized we were related, and when she learned I was taking the language classes, I remember her saying ‘You know your kunsi, your grandma, is a very good speaker, one of the best I know.’ And that blew my mind. That one sentence really encouraged me to learn Dakota as much as I could. Now I had this direct connection I never really realized existed.”

“I began learning about the history of Native people, which made me angry, so much anger, that it gave me enough fuel to propel me into the next decade of self-discovery. I became involved in my community, learned as much as I could, and although it took a few years to detox my own body of drugs and the chemical abuse lifestyle, I made it to the other side of sobriety.”

“While growing up, whenever my father wanted to teach us things, he would ask us "Do you want to take a walk?" And we would go outside in the forest in Red Cliff. We would jump over trees and look at different plants. He would explain to us what it meant to be bear clan. One plant he always told us about was called a bear fern. […]The plant is supposed to guide us, remind us of our relatives, and show us that they are watching over us.”

“The drum is many things along with a symbol of cultural preservation and healing wounds of today, yesteryear, and hundreds of years in the past, not only in my life but for all people who went to Sherman Indian School historically. It’s no different than all other drums that can revitalize and reshape one’s foundation of identity and spiritual essence and healing.”

“I reflect on all that the Creator has given me by living a good life. I went back to live on my reservation and learned from the elders on living a spiritual journey. This has helped me with all the daily ups and downs life gives us. My spiritual and religious belief has grown since I’ve been in recovery.”

“Then I came to college and to a big city where my identity of being Indigenous was even more rare. I felt as though I had to blend in and conform to the standards that society had set for me. I felt like my only options were to assimilate or to stand out. I chose to stand out. I chose to learn more of the language and participate more in ceremonies.”

“I am proud to be Native American and be given the chance to be a carrier for the next 7th generation. I have more experience than I did. I have learned more with my in-laws about my culture than my parents have taught me. I went to sweat more, water ceremonies, full moon ceremonies, wiping of the tears, naming ceremonies, Sun Dance healing. And now I still attend these for the sake of who I am in this life…”

“My children and family have always influenced my life the most. Particularly the women in my family, my great-grandmothers, grandmothers, mothers, sisters, and daughters...they are all healers, they are my greatest teachers...they walk with me, guide me, are always in my heart, spirit and watch over me, They have given me a sense of belonging and grounded me in humility, hard work and purpose.”

“There is a beauty and a resiliency in Native teachings: a medicine that could shift the way the world is. At the same time, my people are in pain and unsure how to cope. Sometimes I don't know how to cope. But I'm still here, and I'm still trying. I try to pass on the good things. I keep fighting for my values and trying to get these two worlds to join. Like my grandmother, I can always use these traditions to build the framework and the new rules for how I will live.”

“My mom was the best. So wise, so strong, and her cooking! You know that Smoke Signals movie where Arlene rips her magical frybread in half? And how wise and kind the Grandmother Willow Tree was in Pocahontas? Oh, and even the tough love and say what’s on her mind, Madea kind of vibe? That's pretty much my mom.”

“People in my dorm said that I looked better with short hair, but everyone at the AISCC (American Indian Student Cultural Center) encouraged me to grow my hair out again. For the first time since I came to the University, I felt like I could be myself. I didn’t have to worry about people not getting my humor. I didn’t feel like I have to change myself to fit in. The AISCC feels like home to me even when I’m miles away from my family.”

“I began to meet women in the community and they became my sisters. They offered me love, friendship and a safe place to begin my healing journey. They brought me to ceremony and taught me cultural practices that healed me physically, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. Without these life ways, I may not have lived.”

“It wasn’t until I was in college, engaged in anti-mascot activism, that identity as a Native person was brought back to the forefront. Before school, being Native was just who I was, but after spending so much time on campus explaining what that meant and why “Indian” mascots were harmful, I wanted to go home where we could just be Native without having to defend that identity.”

“They say the cure is in the culture, I’ve seen it and it helps me to honor the Native American Code of Ethics and cherish the Seven Philosophies from the Red Road to Wellbriety. If there is one thing I can help others to live a better life, then it will be to remind people that you should never be afraid to chase your dreams.”

“I will always be angry about how we've been treated. I have a right to be mad when I look at Enbridge stomping their way through Native land. I have a right to be furious when I look at the statistics of how Native women go missing when pipeline workers come around. I want people to know that I am going to work my whole life to fight for sovereignty, power, and justice for Native people.”

“Journaling, youth work, and service to my community, have been a major piece of my healing. More importantly, they have all served as a means to discovering what my cultural identity means to me. I’m Native. I’m proud. I’m forgiving. I’m evolving. I’ll live the rest of my years being a servant to others outside of myself...my family, my community, and the unknown. To me, that’s what it means to be Native.”

“I learned so much living with the Strong family and the people of Nett Lake like language, culture, humor and how to do hand parched wild rice, the whole process, which is a lot of work. Looking back in my life had I not attended Upward Bound and met George Strong I would not be the person I am today.”

“After receiving a copy of my original birth certificate, I finally felt like I belonged to my birth mother. She is mine. This is my mother. I belong to her. She belongs to me. I was 68-years old at that time. At that point, I reintroduced myself to the world and who I was on Facebook. People that I had known most of my life had no idea I had been adopted, that I was Native…”

“Growing up as tri-racial, I had three cultures to learn about, understand or take part in – which has always been an ever-expanding experience. I think one of the ways in which it has changed for me is going from trying to understand my culture more and learn history and traditions to trying to understand what I represent as an educated successful Native man in a society that is either oppressed, misunderstood or simply ignored us for so long.”

“I have gone to a few National Indian Child Welfare conferences and I have so enjoyed meeting Native people from all over the country. I have also gone on many vacations which have put me in contact with Native American people. I love it when we realize that we are all one people, and we need to pull together.”

“Without those life lessons, the heartache, all those hardships she had gone through she wouldn’t be the worldly woman she is now. She is able to provide her son with a different knowledge than her mother could at 19. She is able to be comfortable with herself first and give her true self to her son. She is able to provide him with a healthy, loving, and stable home. This home is grounded in cultural knowledge. This home was her version of perfect.”

“The sound and rhythm l heard was coming through and echoing in the hallway.  I was transported. I was almost afraid to go into the gym. I really can't explain the affect nor effect. I just know it was another DNA moment. I was experiencing the ancient cultural connection with my ancestors. My people were part of me and I was part of them. I am so so invigorated by my cultural connection. It makes me glad to be alive. I need to share these thoughts with my family.”

“My name is Kiiweden Anong Kwe which means north star woman, given to me by a medicine man from Red Lake. I am a native artist who makes traditional Ojibwe faceless dolls made from buckskin, stuffed with buffalo hair, dressed in deer hide and the hair is horse hair. My dolls are in multiple museums and collections, and the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian in Washington DC.”

“In small ways we were shown things; when we gathered with our relatives (which was often) or went out in the woods with uncles and grandpa; in the way that we honored a member who passed or a birth of a newborn; even with graduations and military enlistments. My culture was beginning to show itself to me.”

“My mom was never allowed to talk about her Native culture. Her grandma was told by her mother not speak the Ojibwe language because of her experiences being placed in a mission school. It was taboo to use the language and use their traditions! We learned very little as children. The knowledge came as we became older and more so as we became adults.”

“I would like others to understand my Native culture, to live in the present by continuing hunting, fishing, picking berries, canning the vegetables and providing information for the future by continuing with the classes, attending Native events and keeping my heritage alive and not forgotten.”

“This was shortly after the government stopped paying bounty for scalps of Indian men, women and children. The Government had put a price on the scalps of all Indians. In small town USA, people still clung to these practices. People could not kill another person, but they could kill a savage who did not have a soul. Ignorance was rampant in small towns.”

“As an adult, I have had the opportunity to stand in solidarity about issues that are important to me personally and the greater Twin Cities Native community. For Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, anti-mascot campaigns, in celebration of American Indian Heritage Month, we have stood together.”

“My youth with my parents was comforting even when it got crazy. My adult life in the cities has been a good journey so far. I hope to share what I learned from my family with my granddaughter. I want her to see how lucky I was to have my family to take me to powwows and try to dance.”

“It is not a trauma that any one in control can fix. It was forced upon us. We suffered the effects of all this control. Only I can attempt to deal with the pain and suffering of my parents and their parents and back as far as my people are.  And it is a trauma that can never be repaired, fixed or hopefully repeated.”

“In my eyes the trickster (coyote) and my people have a similar relationship. For years the U.S. government spent funding and supplies on wiping out coyotes to try and eliminate them from the wild. The same way they took out wolves, bears, and many bison herds can be lined up with the way the tried to wipe out Native culture. For years the extermination went on but as my people survived, so did the coyote.”

“I have met and become friends with many Native Americans through college, work, conferences, and social gatherings that I am proud to know. They have influenced me to continue to know and practice my culture more. I will influence my children and grandchildren about our Native American culture. Also I am letting my husband, who is Swedish and Norwegian, know about my culture.”