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Indigenous Voices, 1010 S 336TH Street, Federal Way, Federal Way, WA (2026)

05/25/2024

Little Moon family at the Exposition Universelle in Brussels, Belgium - Oglala Lakota - 1935
*L-R: Francis Little Moon, Joe Little Moon holding baby Wilson Little Moon, Pauline Little Moon in front of her mother, Mrs. Rosa (Iron Teeth) Little Moon, and Gilbert Little Moon.
Note: This Little Moon family was from the Wounded Knee community on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota.

05/24/2024

I REMEMBER well. None of us who were there could forget. I was almost eighteen that summer. Never before or since that time did my people gather in such great numbers. Our camp on the Greasy Grass [Little Bighorn] stretched four miles along the river -- six great camp circles, each a half mile across, with thousands of Lakota fighting men and their families.
In that long-ago time none of my people knew more than a thousand numbers. We believed no honest man needed to know more than that many. There was my own tribe, the Miniconjou. There were our cousins, the Hunkpapa, the Sans Arc, the Two Kettles, the Sihasapa [Blackfoot Sioux], the Brulé, and the Oglala -- all our Seven Council Fires. There were many of our eastern relatives, too -- the Yankton and the Santee. And our kinsmen from the north were there -- the Yanktonai and the Assiniboin. Our friends and allies the Cheyenne were there in force, and with them were smaller bands of Arapaho and Gros Ventre. It was a great village and we had great leaders.
Hump, Fast Bull, and High Backbone led my tribe. Crazy Horse headed the Oglala. lnkpaduta [Scarlet Tip] led the Santee. Lame White Man and Ice Bear led the Cheyenne. But the greatest leader of all was the chief of the Hunkpapa -- Sitting Bull. As long as we were all camped together, we looked on him as head chief. We all rallied around him because he stood for our old way of life and the freedom we had always known. We were not there to make war, but, if need be, we were ready to fight for our sacred rights. Since the white man's government had promised our leaders that we could wander and hunt in our old territory as long as the grass should grow, we did not believe the white soldiers had any business in our hunting grounds. Vet they came to attack us anyway.
I slept late the morning of the fight. The day before, I had been hunting buffalo and I had to ride far to find the herds because there were so many people in the valley. I came back with meat, but I was very tired. So when I got up, the camp women were already starting out to dig for wild turnips. Two of my uncles had left early for another buffalo hunt. Only my grandmother and a third uncle were in the tepee, and the sun was high overhead and hot. I walked to the river to take a cool swim, then got hungry and returned to the tepee at dinner time [noon].
"When you finish eating," my uncle said, "go to our horses. Something might happen today. I feel it in the air."
I hurried to Muskrat Creek and joined my younger brother, who was herding the family horses. By the time I reached the herd, I heard shouting in the village. People were yelling that white soldiers were riding toward the camp.
Iron HaiI climbed Black Butte for a look around the country. I saw a long column of soldiers coming and a large party of Hunkpapa warriors, led by Sitting Bull's nephew, One Bull, riding out to meet them. I could see One Bull's hand raised in the peace sign to show the soldiers that our leaders only wanted to talk them into going away and leaving us alone. But all at once the soldiers spread out for attack and began to fire, and the fight was on. I caught my favorite war pony, a small buckskin mustang I called Sung Zi Ciscila [Little Yellow Horse] and raced him back to camp to get ready for battle.
I had no time to paint Zi Ciscila properly for making war, just a minute or so to braid his tail and to dab a few white hail spots of paint on my own forehead for protection before I galloped out on the little buckskin to help defend the camp. I met four other Lakotas riding fast. Three were veteran fighters, armed with rifles; the other was young like me and carried a bow and arrows as I did. One of the veterans went down. I saw my chance to act bravely and filled the gap. We all turned when we heard shooting at the far side of the village nearest the Miniconjou camp circle and rode fast to meet this new danger. I could see swirls of dust and hear shooting on the hills and bluffs across the river. Hundreds of other warriors joined us as we splashed across the ford near our camp and raced up the hills to charge into the thickest of the fighting.
This new battle was a turmoil of dust and warriors and soldiers, with bullets whining and arrows hissing all around. Sometimes a bugle would sound and the shooting would get louder. Some of the soldiers were firing pistols at close range. Our knives and war clubs flashed in the sun. I could hear bullets whiz past my ears. But I kept going and shouting, "It's a good day to die!" so that everyone who heard would know I was not afraid of being killed in battle.
Then a Lakota named Spotted Rabbit rode unarmed among us, calling out a challenge to all the warriors to join him. He shouted, "Let's take their leader alive!" I had no thought of what we would do with this leader once we caught him; it was a daring feat that required more courage and much more skill than killing him. I dug my heels into my pony's flanks to urge him on faster to take part in the capture.
A tall white man in buckskins kept shouting; at the soldiers and looked to be their leader. Following Spotted Rabbit, I charged toward this leader in buckskins. We were almost on top of him when Spotted Rabbit's pony was shot from under him. Zi Ciscila shied to one side, and it was too late.
Miniconjou named Charging Hawk rushed in and shot the leader at close range. In a little while all the soldiers were dead. The battle was over.
The soldier chief we had tried to capture lay on the ground with the reins of his horse's bridle tied to his wrist. It was a fine animal, a blaze-faced sorrel with four white stockings. A Santee named Walks-Under-the-Ground took that [Custer's] horse. Then he told everyone that the leader lying there dead was Long Hair; so that was the first I knew who we had been fighting. I thought it was a strange name for a soldier chief who had his hair cut short. [Note: Lazy White Bull said the Santee who got Custer's horse was named Sound the Ground as He Walks which is also sometimes translated as Noisy Walking.]
Our attempt to save Long Hair's life had failed. But we all felt good about our victory over the soldiers and celebrated with a big scalp dance. But our triumph was hollow. A winter or so later more soldiers came to round us up on reservations. There were too many of them to fight now. We were split up into bands and no longer felt strong. At last we were ready for peace and believed we would have no more trouble.
Putinhin aka WasuMaza. Dewey Beard.

05/24/2024

Congratulations - Lily Gladstone for being the first Native Indigenous Blackfeet/Nimíipuu Female in its eighty one year history, to win the Best Actress at the Golden Globe Awards for her role in "Killers of the Flower Moon!"
"The villains are fairly obvious in “Flower Moon,” but Scorsese asks audiences to take a wider look at systemic racism, historical injustice and the corruptive influence of power and money, intriguingly tying together our past and present." ~ Brian Truitt,
"Gladstone, in the rare Scorsese film that gives center stage to a female character, is the emotional core here, and it's her face that stays etched in our memory."
~ Jocelyn Noveck
“This is for every little Rez kid, every little urban kid, every little Native kid out there who has a dream and is seeing themselves represented in our stories told by ourselves, in our own words..." ~ Lily Gladstone
"We Are Still Here!" 🪶
Top 📸: Mollie Kyle (Burkhart, Cobb) Osage, (1886-1937)
Bottom: Lily Gladstone, (Blackfeet-Nez Perce Ẩn bớt

05/23/2024

These four Chiefs were Chief Joseph, Sitting Bull, Geronimo and Red Cloud. Each of these forefathers played an important role in shaping their tribe's customs and history. Because of their influence over the shaping of Native American history, they are often referred to as the real founding fathers.!
Left-Right : Chief Joseph, Sitting Bull, Geronimo, and Red Cloud.

05/23/2024

A LAUGH FOR TODAY❤
When NASA was preparing for the Apollo moon landings of the late 60s and early 70s, they did some astronaut training along a Navajo Indian reservation in the SW. One day, a Navajo elder and his grandson were herding animals and came across the space crew. The old man, who only spoke Navajo, asked a question, which the grandson translated: "What are the guys in the big suits doing?" A member of the crew said they were practicing for their trip to the moon." Then, recognizing a promotional opportunity for the spin-doctors, added, "We will be leaving behind a special record with greetings in many languages and such. Would the old man be interested in giving us a greeting to include?"
Upon translation, the old man got really excited and was thrilled at the idea of sending a message to the moon with the astronauts. The NASA folks produced a tape recorder and the old man recorded his message at which the grandson fought back the urge to laugh... but he refused to translate.
After Apollo 11 had successfully landed on the moon and brought its astronauts homes, a new group were training in the desert when one of the NASA officials recognized the Navajo elder and his grandson and went to tell them that the old man's message was indeed on the moon which was met with laughter.
Finally, the NASA rep caught on that not everything was as simple as he had originally thought and asked for a translation. With a chuckle the youngster replied: "Beware of white man; they come to steal your land!".

05/22/2024

East face of Devils Tower. See the Native American face with head dress?
To everyone asking exactly where this is, when you look through the pipe at the ladder go to your right around the corner. There’s a bench sitting right across where it is. I was sitting there admiring the beauty and saw the face.

05/22/2024

Legend of the White Buffalo
Sioux (lakota)
The White Buffalo are sacred to many Native Americans. The Lakota (Sioux) Nation has passed down The Legend of the White Buffalo–a story now approximately 2,000 years old–at many council meetings, sacred ceremonies, and through the tribe’s storytellers. There are several variations, but all are meaningful and tell of the same outcome. Have communication with the Creator through prayer with clear intent for Peace, Harmony, and Balance for all life living in the Earth Mother.
Spirituality among Natives Americans and non-Native Americans has been a strong force for those who believe in the power of the Great Spirit or God.
It matters not what you call the Creator. What matters is that you pray to give thanks for your blessings and trust the guidance given to you from the world of Spirit. Many truths about Spirit are told and handed down from one generation to the next.
The legend of the White Buffalo Calf Woman tells how the People had lost the ability to communicate with the Creator. The Creator sent the sacred White Buffalo Calf Woman to teach the People how to pray with the Pipe. With that Pipe, seven sacred ceremonies were given for the people to abide in order to ensure a future with harmony, peace, and balance.
Legend says that long ago, two young men were out hunting when from out of nowhere came a beautiful maiden dressed in white buckskin. One of the hunters looked upon her and recognizing her as a wakan, or sacred being lowered his eyes. The second hunter approached her with lust in his eyes desiring her for his woman. White Buffalo Calf Woman beckoned the lustful warrior to her, and as he approached a cloud of dust arose around them causing them to be hidden from view. When the dust settled, nothing but a pile of bones lay next to her.
As she walked toward the respectful young hunter, she explained to him that she had merely fulfilled the other man’s desire, allowing him, within that brief moment, to live a lifetime, die and decay. White Buffalo Calf Woman instructed the young man to go back to the People and tell them to prepare for her arrival to teach them of the way to pray. The young hunter obeyed.
When White Buffalo Calf woman arrived with the sacred bundle (the prayer pipe) she taught the People of the seven sacred ways to pray. These prayers are through ceremonies that include the Sweat Lodge for purification; the Naming Ceremony for child naming; the Healing Ceremony to restore health to the body, mind and spirit; the adoption ceremony for making of relatives; the marriage ceremony for uniting male and female; the Vision Quest for communing with the Creator for direction and answers to one’s life; and the Sundance Ceremony to pray for the well-being of all the People.
When the teaching of the sacred ways was complete, White Buffalo Calf Woman told the people she would again return for the sacred bundle that she left with them. Before leaving, she told them that within her were the four ages and that she would look back upon the People in each age, returning at the end of the fourth age, to restore harmony and spirituality to a troubled land. She walked a short distance, she looked back towards the people and sat down. When she arose they were amazed to see she had become a black buffalo. Walking a little further, the buffalo laid down, this time arising as a yellow buffalo. The third time the buffalo walked a little further and this time arose as a red buffalo. Walking a little further it rolled on the ground and rose one last time as a white buffalo calf signaling the fulfillment of the White Buffalo Calf prophecy.
The changing of the four colors of the White Buffalo Calf Woman represents the four colors of man–white, yellow, red and black. These colors also represent the four directions, north, east, south, and west. The sacred bundle that was left to the Lakota people is still with the People in a sacred place on the Cheyenne River Indian reservation in South Dakota. It is kept by a man known as the Keeper of the White Buffalo Calf Pipe, Arvol Looking Horse.
The legend of the White Buffalo Calf Woman remains ever promising in this age of spiritual enlightenment and conscious awareness. In today’s world of confusion and war, many of us are looking for signs of peace.
“With the return of the White Buffalo, it is a sign that prayers are being heard, that the sacred pipe is being honored, and that the promises of prophecy are being fulfilled. White Buffalo signals a time of abundance and plenty.”
Though harsh as the world we live in may be throughout recorded history there have been spiritual leaders teaching peace, hope, and balance (synergy) amongst all life. This was taught by great teachers such as Jesus, Buddha, the Dali Lama’s, and Native American leaders.
Chief Crazy Horse, Chief Seattle, and Chief Red Cloud are a few of the visionary leaders who committed their lives to bring peace, and internal happiness to all who they touched. They were tangible signs of goodwill toward all men, women, and children.

05/21/2024

"We Indians know about silence. We are not afraid of it. In fact, for us, silence is more powerful than words. Our elders were trained in the ways of silence, and they handed over this knowledge to us. Observe, listen, and then act, they would tell us. That was the manner of living.
With you, it is just the opposite. You learn by talking. You reward the children that talk the most at school. In your parties, you all try to talk at the same time. In your work, you are always having meetings in which everybody interrupts everybody and all talk five, ten or a hundred times. And you call that ‘solving a problem’. When you are in a room and there is silence, you get nervous. You must fill the space with sounds. So you talk compulsorily, even before you know what you are going to say.
White people love to discuss. They don’t even allow the other person to finish a sentence. They always interrupt. For us Indians, this looks like bad manners or even stupidity. If you start talking, I’m not going to interrupt you. I will listen. Maybe I’ll stop listening if I don’t like what you are saying, but I won’t interrupt you.
When you finish speaking, I’ll make up my mind about what you said, but I will not tell you I don’t agree unless it is important. Otherwise, I’ll just keep quiet and I’ll go away. You have told me all I need to know. There is no more to be said. But this is not enough for the majority of white people.
People should regard their words as seeds. They should sow them, and then allow them to grow in silence. Our elders taught us that the earth is always talking to us, but we should keep silent in order to hear her.
There are many voices besides ours. Many voices…”
-Ella Deloria

05/21/2024

The Inuit people can't be imagined without their signature parkas, fashioned from fur and hide of the local wildlife. One of the many reasons why early European voyages into the Arctic circle failed is because they were underprepared for the extreme weather conditions of the north. They wore wool clothing, which kept them hot on the inside, but made them sweat a lot, which made their clothing freeze in the extreme temperatures. The Inuit never faced this problem, as they have been making their parkas from caribou deer or seal hide from as early as 22,000 BC (Siberia). The production of these parkas took weeks, and the tradition of making them was passed down from mother to daughter, taking years to master. Depending on the geographical location of the tribes, the design of the parkas varied according to the types of animals available. Beadwork, fringes and pendants frequently decorated the clothing. Roald Amundsen was the first explorer who outfitted his crew with Inuit clothing, which enabled him to successfully circumvent the North-West Passage in 1906. In the 20th century the use of traditional Inuit clothing declined, but it has seen a recent resurgence, as the Inuit strive to preserve their culture.Thank you for reading ❤️❤❤🧡

05/20/2024

Flying Hawk
Flying Hawk (Oglala Lakota: Čhetáŋ Kiŋyáŋ in Standard Lakota Orthography; also known as Moses Flying Hawk; March 1854 – December 24, 1931) was an Oglala Lakota warrior, historian, educator and philosopher. Flying Hawk's life chronicles the history of the Oglala Lakota people through the 19th and early 20th centuries, as he fought to deflect the worst effects of white rule; educate his people and preserve sacred Oglala Lakota land and heritage. Chief Flying Hawk was a combatant in Red Cloud's War and in nearly all of the fights with the U.S. Army during the Great Sioux War of 1876. He fought alongside his first cousin Crazy Horse and his brothers Kicking Bear and Black Fox II in the Battle of the Little Big Horn in 1876, and was present at the death of Crazy Horse in 1877 and the Wounded Knee Massacre of 1890. Chief Flying Hawk was one of the five warrior cousins who sacrificed blood and flesh for Crazy Horse at the Last Sun Dance of 1877. Chief Flying Hawk was the author of his commentaries and accounts of the Battle of the Little Big Horn, Crazy Horse and the Wounded Knee Massacre, and of Native American warriors and statesmen from who fought to protect their families, defend the invasion of their lands and preserve their culture. Chief Flying Hawk was probably the longest standing Wild Wester, traveling for over 30 years throughout the United States and Europe from about 1898 to about 1930. Chief Flying Hawk was an educator and believed public education was essential to preserve Lakota culture. He frequently visited public schools for presentations. Chief Flying Hawk leaves a legacy of Native American philosophy and his winter count covers nearly 150 years of Lakota history.

05/20/2024

A legend of Devil's Tower
Brule
Out of the plains of Wyoming rises Devil's Tower. It is really a rock, visible for hundreds of miles around, an immense cone of basalt which seems to touch the clouds. It sticks out of the flat prairie as if someone had pushed it up from underground.
Of course, Devil's Tower is a white man's name. We have no devil in our beliefs and got along well all these many centuries without him. You people invented the devil and, as far as I'm concerned, you can keep him. But everybody these days knows that towering rock by this name, so Devil's Tower it is.
No use telling you its Indian name. Most tribes call it bear rock. There is a reason for that - if you see it, you will notice on its sheer sides many, many streaks and gashes running straight up and down, like scratches made by giant claws.
Well, long, long ago, two young Indian boys found themselves lost in the prairie. You know how it is. They had played shinny ball and whacked it a few hundred yards out of the village. And then they had shot their toy bows still farther out into the sagebrush. And then they had heard a small animal make a noise and had gone to investigate.
They had come to a stream with many colorful pebbles and followed that for a while. They had come to a hill and wanted to see what was on the other side. On the other side they saw a herd of antelope and, of course, had to track them for a while.
When they got hungry and thought it was time to go home, the two boys found that they didn't know where they were. They started off in the direction where they thought their village was, but only got farther and farther away from it. At last they curled up beneath a tree and went to sleep.
They got up the next morning and walked some more, still headed the wrong way. They ate some wild berries and dug up wild turnips, found some chokecherries, and drank water from streams. For three days they walked toward the west. They were footsore, but they survived.
Oh, how they wished that their parents, or aunts or uncles, or elder brothers and sisters would find them. But nobody did.
On the fourth day the boys suddenly had a feeling that they were being followed. They looked around and in the distance saw Mato, the bear. This was no ordinary bear, but a giant grizzly so huge that the two boys would only make a small mouthful for him, but he had smelled the boys and wanted that mouthful. He kept coming close, and the earth trembled as he gathered speed.
The boys started running, looking for a place to hide, but there was no such place and the grizzly was much much faster than they. They stumbled, and the bear was almost upon them. They could see his red, wide-open jaws full of enormous, wicked teeth. They could smell his hot, evil breath. The boys were old enough to have learned to pray, and they called upon Wakan Tanka, the Creator:
"Tunkashila, Grandfather, have pity, save us."
All at once the earth shook and began to rise. The boys rose with it. Out of the earth came a cone of rock going up, up until it was more than a thousand feet high. And the boys were on top of it. Mato the bear was disappointed to see his meal disappearing into the clouds.
Have I said he was a giant bear? This grizzly was so huge that he could almost reach to the top of the rock, trying to get up, trying to get those boys. As he did so, he made big scratches in the sides of the towering rock. But the stone was too slippery; Mato could not get up. He tried every spot, every side. He scratched up the rock all around, but it was no use. The boys watched him wearing himself out, getting tired, giving up. They finally saw him going away, a huge, growling, grunting mountain of fur disappearing over the horizon.
The boys were saved. Or were they? How were they to get down? They were humans, not birds who could fly.
Some ten years ago, mountain climbers tried to conquer Devil's Tower. They had ropes, and iron hooks called pitons to nail themselves to the rockface, and they managed to get up. But they couldn't get down. They were marooned on that giant basalt cone, and they had to be taken off in a helicopter. In the long-ago days the Indians had no helicopters.
So how did the two boys get down? The legend does not tell us, but we can be sure that the Great Spirit didn't save those boys only to let them perish of hunger and thirst on the top of the rock.
Well, Wanblee, the eagle, has always been a friend to our people. So it must have been the eagle that let the boys grab hold of him and carried them safely back to their village.
Or do you know another way?
- Told by Lame Deer in Winner, Rosebud Sioux Indian Reservation, South Dakota, 1969.
Note. Matȟó Thípila, Bear Lodge in Lakota
The Great Mystery Wakan Tanka

05/19/2024

Why Isn’t This Map in the History Books?
By the age of 10, most children in the United States have been taught all 50 states that make up the country. But centuries ago, the land that is now the United States was a very different place. Over 20 million Native Americans dispersed across over 1,000 distinct tribes, bands, and ethnic groups populated the territory.
History is not there for you to like or dislike. It is there for you to learn from it. And if it offends you, even better. Because then you are less likely to repeat it. It’s not yours for you to erase or destroy.

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