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Many years ago, Wizi, with all the politeness that Lakota culture expects of young people in interacting with their elders, presented me with a letter. It was a formal request to serve as an intern. With the letter was a tobacco offering.

Humans have some flaws that need to be disciplined. I had my own flaws and they were protesting: It’s a lot of trouble! There’s funds to be raised and time to be committed towards developing the learning activity and the supervision! Then I looked at the tobacco offering in my hand and Wolakota started drifting like a warm, wispy fog through my being. Tobacco offerings are offered in humility and with honor. It can be refused, but I personally don’t know of such an instance. You just don’t.

So, I reached out and took his hand and thanked him for the honor. After all, he was the grandson of my father’s close relative for whom he had great respect. My Euro-nicity chimed in, “He’s a Yale student!” (I have a smidgeon of Irish blood that I could lose in a nosebleed.)

And so commenced my own education about the younger generation and the possibilities of acculturation. 

The funding was in place, but keeping a Yale student raised by a Lakota grandmother on a learning curve would be a challenge. His first assignment, I think he did in his sleep. No sooner had I asked for a complete listing of all the tribes in this country when I received back that list. Hmm, what next? I raised the bar a bit. There was a treaty gathering coming up. Get on the agenda and give a presentation of traditional values expected in leadership. For any young person, that was a formidable task! To get on the agenda to address Lakota-speaking elders would require extraordinary diplomacy. To research and to present leadership values to those who already know would have to be exceptionally creative.

The treaty gathering came and I saw Wizi fidgeting, but it was hardly noticeable. “I ask my wise elders to forgive a young man for speaking in their presence. These are things we need to remind ourselves about”, he began.  Most people just ramble off the standard four virtues of bravery, compassion, wisdom, and fortitude. He went further into disciplines that, in this time and in the American culture, are not expected anymore of leadership. He spoke of marital fidelity and being humble in a confident way.

I glanced at the audience around me. Their full attention was on Wizi. When he finished with, “I thank you for listening to a young man trying to be what you are”. The applause lingered on and on as people walked up to him and shook his hand. A leader in the making, I thought, not one of today’s politicians, but one who understands the traditional process of leadership!

As I was preparing to travel to Geneva, Switzerland, Wizi called, polite as usual, “Can I come? I saved my money and I can pay for my own expenses. I’ll be helpful.” So off we went to the United Nations.

I was there to make a appeal on behalf of the buffalo that were being slaughtered in Yellowstone and also to ask the World Health Organization to pay attention to the health risks were being imposed on indigenous peoples by confined animal feeding operations (Rosebud Hog Farm specifically). Since the line-up of speakers is long and time is short, getting to speak twice is unlikely. So, Wizi signed up and earnestly began the task of drafting an abbreviated 6-minute intervention. You have to make your case in the allotted time on complicated issues! His draft passed through the hands of lawyers and other seasoned delegates and marked up in red. He redrafted and redrafted with patience and persistence. Finally Wizi delivered a very moving speech on behalf of the buffalo that are sacred to his people. Once again, people were on their feet and the applause lingered on. His speech exceeded the time limit, but Madame Diaz didn’t even notice! She gaveled me thirty seconds short earlier that day!

When he was considering the position with Tom Daschle’s office, he didn’t ponder the decision on his own. He gathered his parents, his grandmother and a few others and asked for their opinions. He was always careful in his decision-making. The question wasn’t: Would this be good for ME? The deciding factor was always: Through me, how would this be good for my people? 

And now, he will be at the elbow of the President, helping to bring dignity back to the American people, dignity back to people of all colors. The night that Obama won the election, I danced with my great-granddaughter in my living room, finally feeling like an American. When Wizi’s appointment was announced, I raised my face to the sun and did my Lakota woman thing: wicaglata.

I have much hope now. I have hope that the tribes for whom the buffalo is the core of their culture can sit in an honorable way with the government agencies and negotiate sensible ways to respect the role of a sacred, keystone species. Sacred species are indicators of the health of the planet. We’ve always known that, but we were invisible and silent, until now. 

Obama has acknowledged that the U.S. needs to build an honorable relationship; a consultation process with the Native Americans. We take his word on that.

Wizi, my nephew is a Lakota and he will continue to honor his heritage as he takes on another challenge. We will be inspired to compose and sing songs for our young leaders.

 

It was just this past summer that RC Journal called. Someone has suggested a native blog and that certain someone further suggested that I could do it. Given my busy-ness and travel, I wasn’t too warm to the idea, but when Dacotah’s name was brought up, I felt like a deer caught in headlights, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It was just one of those challenges that, by the Lakota codes of conduct, you just can’t refuse.

This is one of those times that seem to stand still while spiritual energy floats around and touches everyone in profound ways.

Dacotah was a young man that came to teach us what it really means to be Lakota. A few short, yet long days ago, he returned to the spiritual world; wanagiyata. He left us to reflect his existence and his passing and to further ponder our shortcomings and our challenges as Lakota people and as human beings.

It is young people like him that make us, the elders feel hopeful that everything is going to be alright. There are young people that can grasp the influences and the teachings and live them. Dacotah taught those good ways, without making much noise. I heard something that immediately brought him to mind, “Passing wisdom from the previous generation to the next generation is this generation’s responsibility and if you need to use words sometimes, do so”.

There is much to be said yet, but not just by me alone. There are many perspectives, many ways he touched people’s lives. That needs to be shared. He influenced this blog and to remember him here is the honorable thing to do. He was extraordinary for these times. For us to get a true glimpse of Lakota culture, we need to define for ourselves what it was that he embodied. He lived wacintangya. He was a good relative. 

I know that there are many people that feel a great need to honor his presence and grieve his absence. Please feel welcome here.