Spilyqy Tymoo, Wqrro Springs, Oregon Aug ust 25, 2001
THE CONFEDERATED TRIBES LANGUAGE LESSON-
Our NILI Poem
Somewhere in the Americas, In
dian people are. . .
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are gathered together sharing their lan
guages. Somewhere, they are learning from
their elders how to be in the world, playing
with their children, shopping for groceries,
driving cars, playing basketball living their
lives.
Somewhere, an Indian chief is cutting his
braids and attending his aunt's funeral. In
dian people are also swimming, laughing and
playing in the cool, clear, deep water, es
caping the afternoon heat.
In the Americas, we the Tananma "people
of this land" cherish this Ticham "land"
because the mother earth provides many
foods that we use for Traditional Ceremo
nial Feast. This is my joy of being a Tanan
and Food Gatherer for Traditional Ceremo
nies. Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are proud of their heritage because young
people are really getting into their lost lan
guages. Some of these languages are re
turning. They are taught in the Rez, and
teachers are learning about how to teach
their own languages.
Somewhere Indian people are cramming two
weeks of knowledge and learning. Some are
teaching theirJanguage to the younger.....
generation to carry on.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are running away from guns, begging for
work because they are hungry, still strong
because they believe in themselves, strug
gling to save Mother Earth, praying for man
kind. Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are looking for jobs, sitting in jail, doing
homework, eating fry bread, driving rez
cars, plowing their fields, waiting for
subcomandante Marcos, sitting in the back
yard, arguing at council meetings.
Somewhere in America, Indian people are
confined to 6 x 1 5 feet of space. They are
wearing prison clothes. Who are these
people? They are the Lost people. They
don't speak their own language. They have
been deprived of their identity and culture.
Alcohol and drugs dominate their lives.
They are the homeless, the Shadow People
you don't notice in the streets in the cities.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are unique because we carry on our culture
and traditions, united even though we live
miles apart, and rich because we are filled
with love!
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are greeting each other with gentle hands,
counting young to old in sweat lodges,
burning sacred sage, and inhaling peace.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian children
are outside swimming in the -creek, jump
ing, laughing, smiling, waiting for their mom
who's preparing a barbecue for them all.
Dad is at work, working away for them all.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indians are
reclaiming the heritage they were deprived
of. They are coming together to relearn
what has been stolen and to synthesize
beliefs. They are de-colonizing their minds!
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are having fun learning. Grandma is tending
to her grandchildren, teaching them culture
with everyday tasks. Grandma's planting
roots for her grandchildren to grow.
Somewhere, Indian people are picking huck
leberries and eating more than they pick,
cuz their teeth are purple!
I
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are dancing and singing for a whale whose
grease will fill the bellies of children and
smooth the hair of elders, whose bones will
make the tools of creation, and whose life
will breathe life into the songs and dances
of the people.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are lost from their culture, do not know
what is wrong, are acting out in alcohol and
drug abuse.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are singing a native love song, cruising to
the general store, brushing and braiding
their children's hair, respecting elders by
letting them be the first to sit or eat, get
ting older realizing they are the elders, get
ting younger realizing they can be a child
with their children again, sitting on the
couch watching Fred Flintstone, eating fish
heads and potatoes, preparing food for the
winter
Somewhere in the Americas, songs are being
sung from the heart, the language is being
re-awakened, and the elders are smiling with
tears in their eyes. Somewhere close, a man
is talking to his children always and their
children will talk to their children. Some
where men and women decide alcohol and
drugs are not the Indian way and take a step
to teach about true livelihood.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are brilliant laughing because the dogs are
smiling, working to pay the rent, ouching
because they stuck their fingers with porcu
pine quills, eating blackberries, making strat
egies, hugging their children, imagining a
future, singing songs.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are
Dancing. . . Praying. . . Singing. . . Cooking
good foods. . . Mourning the loss
of a loved one. . . Learning about who they
are. . . Listening to the elders
teach about life. . . Loving one another. . .
Standing together in solidarity.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are dancing to the beat of the drum, prepar
ing to gather for a big feast, a huckleberry
or root feast, making beaded outfits, going
to some kind of training for their tribe,
working hard at their jobs, getting ready to
gather foods for the winter, shopping for
children's school clothes.
Somewhere in the Americas, a happy face,
and I see this every day! People are smiling
when they drive their cars. People visit and
laugh after they eat. Kids giggle if they are
teased. People use the custom to shake the
hands of one another to show they respect
being together.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are reclaiming the language of grandmoth
ers, singing the songs, greeting the dawn,
weaving together the past, the present, the
future. . . joyfully!
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are having a feast after ceremony, laughing,
talking, eating. Somewhere, Indian people
are respectful, listening to a friend, singing
to creator, stepping carefully through small
plants.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are drumming, breathing, working together,
crying, beading, raising children, feeding
strangers, laughing, teasing, singing, pray
ing, giving thanks, building a future on today
and yesterday.
Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are gathering plants, speaking their lan
guages, weaving baskets for holding nour
ishment. Somewhere in the Americas, Indian people
are dancing and sending prayers to the cre
ator to heal their brothers and sisters, danc
ing to put a smile in the heart of an elder,
eating together and sharing stories of life,
looking at the sky, making fry bread and
laughing.
ili Class of 2001
Virginia's Story
At the Northwest Indian Language Institute
an elder tells us a story.
I listen to the tones and pace of a language
new to me.
In spite of background noise
her voice is steady, stately, rhythmic
it seems to speak about harmony
I sense peace and am hungry for her words.
Virginia repeats the story, now in English,
again with gestures to show us the way how
to rock a baby close to you how to let the
baby hear you ask the Little Dipper to send
blessings how to stroke the new head all
over, so the baby knows it belongs, knows
the people and the stars are joyful for this
birth.
If we believe and do these things, our babies
can grow free of self-destruction free in
stead to trust themselves and their world.
This was how Virginia's words reached me.
Thank you for sharing your faith in love and
your hope for us all. These are powerful
gifts.
May everyone hear.
Carol Watt, August 2001