I never realized what assimilation was or is. I never gave a thought about genocide or Manifest Destiny and I thought the holocaust only pertained to what Hitler did to the Jewish people. And it didn’t matter to me, because I never gave a thought about it. I was busy living life as I knew how, a Lakota woman. I was raised in our traditional ways but never taught all those things until I was older. I just thought life was about being traditional, with our ceremonies, songs, traditions, and ways. Sure, I went to a Christian church with my friends, went to Vacation Bible School for a popsicle, and I tested out other religions as if dipping my toes in cold lake water, but I never felt right about it. I didn’t feel wrong about it, I just felt as if it wasn’t my thing. And I made my way back to who I was and who I knew myself and my people to be. Lakota. That is where I belonged and where I feel centered.

The first time I realized that a child raised without their culture and forced into another way of life develops a huge hole in their soul was in college. I read an essay by a Vietnamese American student. She was adopted as a baby, from Vietnam, by white parents here in America. She was given a good life, she was raised with little blonde brothers and sisters and she had a suburban sounding name like Caitlyn or something. She did everything right and everything she was supposed to do in life, plus she won a scholarship to a college away from her family. It was her first time on her own and she discovered herself questioning who she was. She was drawn to other Asians and began hanging out with them. She learned of their likes, dislikes, cultures, foods, and she felt “at home and at peace.” Many of them were also adoptees, taken from their families and countries and grew up American. They were drawn to each other to fill a need in their souls. Yet she felt this with a great deal of guilt towards her American family. She loved her adopted family but felt at home, finally, with her friends, who in turn felt the same.

That is the first time I realized how taking the culture away from someone can be somewhat traumatic or really traumatic. How lost it makes that person feel. As I grew older and started seeing cases of this same thing happening with my own Native people and it was shocking. I remember the first time, was when I met a lady in her twenties. I saw her at the casino we both worked at and asked her what tribe she was from. She became angry and said “The lady that gave birth to me was from so and so reservation but I’m white. I grew up white. I was raised white, so don’t ever ask me that again.”

All I could say was “Whoa.” I stood there shocked. I never in my life met another Indian who hated being Indian, and she had to nerve to say she was white, when she was a few shades from midnight? That’s when someone told me she was raised in a foster home, who eventually adopted her.

I began then to understand what it meant to be assimilated and colonized. I began reading of our history and how children were taken by the US government from Native families once they were put on reservations. Children were forcefully taken out of their homes at the age of 5 and put in residential schools until the age of 18. They made handcuffs so small to detain these children. They were beaten for speaking their language, hair was cut, and all for the purpose of “Kill The Indian, Save The Man.”

This generation was our grandparents and great grandparents, who suffered physical, sexual,and emotional abuse in the residential schools. They were never given the chance to heal because these stories were never told. They were kept on the down low by the Catholic church and the government who ran the residential schools. Many of these boarding schools who are now in operation are now making monetary payments, now wanting to hear the stories of abuse and now trying to make amends. After a few were hit with class action lawsuits.

The next generations, also suffered and still suffer. By the foster care systems. Children were taken from their homes and given to white foster families to raise. The families receiving funding for every foster child, would often take on many foster children. The state holds the households they take the children from to the standards set by white society. Without ever listening to how we set family structures, how we take care of our own, or how we live with our traditions, they set everything up to fit a mold, that they live by.

Based on a 1976 study by the Association on American Indian Affairs found that 25 to 35% of all Indian children were being placed in out-of-home care. (Eighty-five percent of those children were being placed in non-Indian homes or institutions.) Congress then passed the Indian Child Welfare Act (25 U.S.C. § 1901) in 1978 in order to keep American Indian Children with American Indian families.

However, this is not being followed in South Dakota. Why? Because South Dakota has a dirty little secret. According to a wonderful and very thorough investigation by National Public Radio that inspired me to find my brother who was lost for 21 years due to failure of the fact that DSS didn’t follow ICWA regulations and place him with family. I was 19 years old when he was taken from his mother. I was employed and had my own place and he was 8 years old. When I asked them why they didn’t ask me, all they said was sorry and also ,sorry we can’t help you find him now. That is when I began to search for him and I also began to investigate why so many of our Indian children in South Dakota are taken from their homes and placed in Non-Native homes, this is when I found their dirty little secret.

South Dakota’s Department of Social Services receives money for Native children they take custody of. They receive more money than the non-Native children they take from their homes. Native children in South Dakota make up 15% of all the children of South Dakota, yet over half the children placed in foster care are Native. And only 13% of those children are placed in Native foster homes. While Native foster home sit empty for months. South Dakota removes children from their homes at a rate 3 time higher than any other state. But according to state figures, less than 12 percent of the children in foster care in South Dakota have been actually physically or sexually abused in their own homes. That’s less than the national average.

I still didn’t get to the dirty little secret yet. South Dakota, years ago, designated all Native children as “special needs.” Which means every Indian child in every school benefits that school with more funding and it also means that every Indian child taken from their home by DSS benefits South Dakota more than non-Native children. And although the state says they match all the money coming in from the feds dollar for dollar, the match is not exact. According

to records from 2010, the feds reimbursed the state three quarters for what it spent on the children they removed from their homes. There is also an adoption incentive program nobody hears about. The federal government gives the states $4,000 for each child who is placed into adoption from foster care. That amount is $12,000 for “special needs” children. And of course over half the children removed from homes in South Dakota are Indian children, who, you guessed it, are designated by the state as “special needs” just for being American Indian. The state has made almost a million dollars in the last ten years off of our most precious resource. Our children. They moved us to dry, barren lands that cannot be farmed, the took the gold and every resource from the lands they stole. And now they are after our children.

Why is this not making a splash? Why is it not news? Especially , in South Dakota? Because they will go to any length to cover up what they do to take our children away. Even as our children are being violated in the homes they are placed in. Here is one case that will blow anyone’s mind and still has yet to reach the media in South Dakota.

Former assistant state attorney Brandon Taliaferro and court appointed child advocate Shirley Schwab go to trial tomorrow, January 7, 2013 for crimes they didn’t commit. Mr. Taliaferro and Ms. Schwab have been indicted by SD Attorney General Martin Jackley with witness tampering and disclosure of confidential, Department of Social Services information. They are being accused of these crimes for encouraging two teenage Lakota foster girls to tell the truth about being molested by their non-Native foster parent, who is now serving a 15 year prison sentence for rape of a child under 10.

According to the Daily Kos: Mr. Taliaferro and Ms. Schwab now assert that South Dakota is engaged in a criminal conspiracy to discriminate against Lakota foster children and their mothers, fathers, grandparents and relatives. “It is financially beneficial for the DSS to remove American Indian children from their homes and place them in [white] foster homes,” said Attorney Taliaferro to the Aberdeen News on December 19, 2011. “[Had I followed] the orders of [my boss with respect to the Mette investigation, it] would have required [me] to violate the law, and ethical rules that govern attorney conduct.” Mr. Taliaferro asserts that in 2011 he refused to participate in “a cover-up of misconduct” by the DSS.

The charges are believed to be a direct response to Mr. Taliaferro and Ms. Scwab for criticizing the state’s payroll during the NPR investigation. According to reporter Stephanie Woodard in her article for 100 Reporters “Rough Justice In Indian Child Welfare” where two state Department of Criminal Investigation agents are seen on a Youtube video planning the cover-up by the state against Mr. Taliaferro and Ms. Schwab. They are unaware, that though they are off camera, they left their microphones on.

This is all dirty, low down, Gestapo like tactics used by the Department of Social Services . And it shows how far the state will bend, how low they will go, to keep the millions of dollars they have coming in by stealing yet again from the Indigenous people of this land. Instead they don’t take from the land, they take from the womb.

They won’t get away with this much longer. Something has to be done.

The post South Dakota Rape Cover-Up Case of Lakota Foster Children Ignored appeared first on Madness & Reality.

I watch and read the reports on Palestine. The land of Palestine, being fought over. One side with all the latest in weaponry supplied and supported by the most powerful country in the world. the other firing homemade rockets, which is actually more than when they used to throw rocks or send in suicide bombers. Yet so much turmoil and death. Every death on one side being reported by mainstream media and death on the other side being downplayed.

It makes one nation of people stand out as the heroes, defending their own with tanks and technology. And the other nation misunderstood by many.

In a way, it is almost like my very own people. When our people fought with bows and arrows compared to cannons and guns. For over five hundred years the Natives of this land have fought, put their lives on the line, had their women and children attacked, murdered even by a government’s greed who only wanted their land. Manifest Destiny, nothing stood in the way of making this the “land of the free and the home of the brave.” Except for our people and genocide in all sorts and forms on all men, women, and children took care of the rest of that. And thus, the good ol’ US of A was built on the blood of over 500 nations.

And under this greed called Manifest Destiny, lives and tribes were lost, languages and innocence lost, and land was lost.
Land.

I had a friend who asked me when they read about the tribe in South America that threatened to commit suicide on their stolen land, “Why would you give up your life to have your land back?”

I understand why she don’t understand. It is not easy in this day and age to understand how a people can be so connected to their land. I know for a fact, every single Lakota that I know, when they drive through the Black Hills, they feel this connection to their land in their hearts. I know I do. I know in my heart this sacred land is the center of the universe. I feel a belonging, I feel the ancestors that lived there and lost their lives for this land. And I feel sorrow that this land was stolen by the very government of this country we pay taxes to, to this land we still lovingly call Turtle Island.

It may be hard for some people who have disconnected with who they are and where they are from to understand the power that the land you belong to has over you. This power is an enchantment that gives you no choice but to respect and honor the land, the very soil, Earth, Unci Maka, Grandmother Earth, who has taken care of, not only you but your people for century upon century.

Until every person on this planet can comprehend the pure raw power land can have over a people whom belong there, they will never understand the parallel between my people and the people of Palestine. And they will never understand why a people will fight long and hard for their land. And they will never understand that you can not own land, especially when it is stolen.

We are a people misunderstood, who love and respect where they are from, the very soil they come from. Until the day I die, my heart will be broken from the loss of the land where we come from. Land stolen, by any means necessary. Something that is still happening in this day and age. I pray for their struggle.

And to the people of Palestine, I do understand.

(Today we fight for our land with the technology and the tools of the modern-day and age of this world. We use social media and the internet to try to buy back a small piece of that stolen land, this piece called Pe’sla is one of the sacred places of our people and if you can’t give we would appreciate prayers and sharing. Thank you. Click here to donate.)

May the people of Palestine never have to resort to buying their land back.

The post Israel, Palestine, & the Native American Parallel appeared first on Madness & Reality.

So the kids were out of school yesterday; all banks and government offices were closed as well to observe Columbus Day. For many it’s just another day off and nothing special. Which is pretty sad when you think about it, because if it wasn’t for Chris, well, there’d quite possibly be no jobs, schools, or banks here in the not-so-new world back then. Let’s be honest, it’s not everyday that someone on their way to the store for some goodies, will “discover” something or anything that will forever change the trajectory of existence and life as we know it. That is with exception to the onetime I found out that touching a certain body part not only gave me fuzzy feelings; but also a real sticky substance reminiscent of okra. I kinda sorta digress, but you get my point.

Discovering a whole new world is a pretty bug fucking deal; so big, that I’m sure Joe Biden will endorse it as such. Which when you think about it, there’s some irony to Mitt Romney giving a major speech on foreign policy, on Columbus Day of all days. After all, there’s something sleazy about Romney in a slave-trader sorta way like Christopher Columbus, O.G. of all one-percenters.

The post Columbus Day: A Celebration of Imperialism, Racism, & Death appeared first on Madness & Reality.

The opening of the debate between Scott Brown and Elizabeth Warren? Awkwardly racist. Scott Brown tried to use a reverse, reverse racism card and it didn’t work out too well. He accused her of lying about being Native American and getting ahead because of it. Shit, he all but said, “Elizabeth Warren isn’t Native American. Look at her! Doesn’t she looks like the type to give an ‘Injun’ baby whiskey and a diseased blanket?” Yeah, it was that awkward; and definitely not the way to start a debate. Honestly, this wasn’t a good look; Brown looked more like the typical right-wing, Conservative, Republican bigot.

BOSTON (Reuters) – Massachusetts Republican Senator Scott Brown slammed Democratic challenger Elizabeth Warren‘s claim she is part Cherokee as they squared off in a televised debate on Thursday in one of the country’s most closely watched U.S. Senateraces.

Brown called on Warren, a high-profile liberal supporter of President Barack Obama, to release her personnel records fromHarvard University to prove she did not gain any unfair advantage as an ethnic minority when the college hired her in the 1990s.

Warren is trying to regain a seat – which Brown won by an upset in 2010 in a special election following the death of Democratic liberal stalwart Edward Kennedy – that would help the Democrats retain their slim majority in the U.S. Senate.

Accusations that Warren may have received special breaks because she claimed Cherokee ancestry first surfaced in April, dogging the Harvard Law School professor and former Obama administration official and giving Brown a way to challenge her integrity.

“As you know … Professor Warren has claimed she is a Native American, a person of color. As you can see, she is not,” Brown said in their first of four TV debates before the November 6 election.

Brown characterized Warren as being disingenuous about her heritage.

Scott Brown: "You know you can prove you're a Native American by dancing until it rains, right?:

“I didn’t get an advantage because of my background,” Warren replied. “I can’t change who I am. I am who I am.”

Warren said she was told as a child that her mother had Native American roots. “When I was growing up, these are the stories I knew about my heritage,” Warren said. “I never asked anybody for any documentation. I don’t know any kid who did.”

Inside the studios of WBZ-TV in Boston, Brown kept pressing the issue, saying all she needed to do was to release her personnel records to show what box she checked for describing her heritage. (source)

For a guy who did his best at trying to distance himself from Mitt Romney and Senate Republicans, I don’t think he did himself any favors. But I guess when you don’t have the wind of Tea Party outrage and populism at your back — you know, like Brown did in 2010 when he won Ted Kennedy’s Senate seat. I guess being short on substance forces one to retreat to the tried and true tactic that is race and entitlement. No word on whether Brown would ever question South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley’s claim to Native American heritage. I suppose Haley being a Republican, naturally makes her an authentic Native American. Warren on the other hand? Quite naturally she’s a cheater and freeloader; she’s a Democrat. But from the looks of it, Brown is desperate and losing.

I’m shocked he didn’t call her a Kenyan.

The post Scott Brown’s Racist Native American Debate Challenge Was Kinda-Sorta Racist appeared first on Madness & Reality.

So you know I’m laughing as I type this, right? Oh yeah, I’m literally laughing my ass off over this one. According to Ancestry.com, extensive research has concluded that president Obama is linked by blood, to the very first African enslaved for life here in America back in 1640, as punishment for attempting to escape slavery. And why do I find this funny? Because Karma is a bitch that loves to aggravate the racist tendencies of white folks in America. So why do I say that? Because the funny thing about this, is that the link to Obama comes from his mother’s side of the family.

This from Ancestery.com:

We explored thousands of historical documents in our research and discovered that John Punch, the first African enslaved for life in America, was the 11th great-grandfather of President Barack Obama.

You can read the entire report yourself here (PDF). According to the press release, Ancestry.com genealogists have linked Barack Obama to John Punch, an indentured servant who went on to have children with a white woman, who eventually produced Obama’s mother, Stanley Ann Dunham’s lineage (read here). And, according to the find, this would make president Obama, the great-grandson of a slave, John Punch. Punch’s descendants inherited their free status from their mother, and went on to be free, and successful land owners in Virginia (read).

So again, why is this funny? Because here I was all this time of the opinion that the racial animus displayed towards Obama, came from the fact that he descended from one of the many Africans who escaped slavery, only to rise to become the leader of the free world. But, this is extremely hilarious to me because now we know, that the white blood that flows through his veins — the blood that “certain people” take comfort in reminding me about when he’s mentioned as the first black president — is also tainted with Negro DNA. Yep, remember that whole one drop rule thingy?

Now isn’t that funny? No seriously, this news is hilarious; however, I imagine for many of you reading this, it isn’t. But you know what? This all goes to show that we’re all one race and we’re all truly connected, and descended from the African continent. So to all you angry racists who doubt the legitimacy of Obama’s presidency, or whether he’s even an American: be careful what you wish for, if you shake your family tree hard enough, a black person from Kenya might fall out. Yep, we can’t all have Native American blood running through our veins as some of us would like to think we have.

Still need to see a birth certificate?

The post President Obama’s Great Grandfather On His Mother’s Side Was A Slave appeared first on Madness & Reality.

I met a pleasant enough lady this weekend. She was a retired lawyer who jumped back in the land of the working to work part time for a forensic psychologist. We talked for hours on the bus about different things in life and life in general. Then one of us, and I don’t think it was me, hit a touchy subject: Immigration. And she turned into someone else. I thought her eyeballs were gonna roll back.

She filled with rage explaining to me how this country will never work, NEVER WORK to strive and better itself because they keep letting “those people” in. I felt compelled to hear her out because I wanted to know exactly how one who thinks it is unfair to let others into this piece of land feels like it is their obligation to shut the so-called passageway once held open by the giant chick The Statue of Liberty who even states

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

And more than likely, those words once meant something to the great great grandfather of the lady ranting next to me about how a phone book should only be in one language.

Now, I heard her out, but I reminded her that at one time this country did indeed exist with thousands of different languages and in peace and harmony. She didn’t really get what I was saying, she went on to rant that every city in America has a Chinatown and that shouldn’t exist, it just shouldn’t happen like that.

I explained that I felt not a single person on this Earth should ever lose their culture and forget who they are, otherwise, they take pride in naming themselves after a bottle of steak sauce and where is the culture in a bottle of Heinz 57? My apologies to any members of the Heinz 57 tribe, I myself am more than one race, but for the life of me I would not call myself a bottle of weak ketchup and giggle about it. Not when I know where I come from and who I am, I am proud of my culture and that pride runs deep.

So I just told the lady “I get it.”

She gave me an untrusting look.

I really do get it, I told her. My people were against immigration also. We felt our homelands invaded. We fought for our Grandmother Earth. This was before my time, and yet I feel as if my very own Motherland was swiped from under my feet like a cheap rug. As if Columbus landed yesterday and Turtle Island was invaded.

We kind of sort of silently and mutually agreed to end the subject right there.

But the more I think about it, I understand how your typical conservative feels as if they need to close the gates on immigrants. I understand because the patriotism I have for this land goes further than stripes and stars and apple pie and baseball…wait, it’s as deep as my love for baseball.

The patriotism I feel for this land is to honor the Earth that WE BELONG TO.

We never owned the beautiful Turtle Island, she owns us and we honor her.

We held onto our culture that includes so many ceremonies preserved over the years to honor the land that gives us life on a daily basis.

So of course, every Indigenous person of their land feels invaded after centuries even. Whether they are Indigenous of North America, South America, New Zealand, Australia etc. And that makes it easy for the descendants of the invaders to tell us to “get over it” but to not know how to handle when the same thing happens to them.

And I can’t even tell any descendant of any of the invaders to “get over it.”

Wanna know why?

Because you NEVER will.

Just like I never got over the fact that you are all here now, centuries later. Not when I know my ancestors spilled blood for the land you happily mow your manicured lawn on Saturdays and bitch about paying taxes on every Spring. So I get all of it, I also know that generations from now, your descendants will probably still be mad about it, like most my people my age and younger, still are.

The post The Immigration Conversation: Fighting “Illegals” Since 1492 appeared first on Madness & Reality.

First off, I just want to say this is NOT a post about being poor. Well it is kind of, but it is not a post about “poor me” instead it is about hope. I hope.

I don’t have a degree in anything, I am sure any educated person can tell from my rough draft style of writing. Nonetheless, that is not to say that I have nothing to say. I am a single, uneducated, hard working mother of four with heart and soul. I am 40 years old and have not rolled the dice at this point to claim “middle class.” But I am happy at where I am and have an inner peace about me that money can’t buy. I hit rock bottom and used it as a springboard.

That is not to say I didn’t try to go to college. I did. I was also raising kids and had no support in the city I lived in, so when I was denied daycare I withdrew. Yes, that was a sad day walking away but it happened and is over.

So I don’t have an education, but I read, I listen, I observe, I soak in the ways of the world around me like a sponge. I can Google quicker than anyone, and set one day aside each week to give thanks to Google. (Just kidding)

Seriously, I feel like lately, middle class hipsters think that struggling is a fad. Dude, what makes you think struggling is cool? What, with everyone preparing for doomsday, end of the world, zombie apocalypse, and all that other shit everyone is scared of.

And, not to forget the new one I heard “economic downfall.”

I even forgot to sigh heavily. I was asked to join a group that is saving the world by preparing each other for “disaster and economic downfall.” I was told this group includes people who pump gas and people with PhD’s. Really? I said, Where do they still pump gas?

Irregardless, though I was a little offended.

I don’t want to put anyone down and make you feel all messed up for preparing for an economic downfall but man, I can’t help you. I can’t join a group of people with for real credit cards, ridiculous credit cards like you got Toys R Us and Starbucks credit cards, that is proclaiming to be out to “save the world.”

For one, I retired the Wonder Woman UnderRoos back in 4th grade due to holiness and for two, my bitch ass is trying to climb out of my own downfall, why would I fall down there again? On purpose.

Not only that but the ways you prepare for an “economic downfall” and what I call “in between paydays” are not the same thing. Like, I don’t sew my own clothing, nor darn my stinking boys’ socks. I hit up yard sales and thrift stores or WalMart, for the sock and undie thing.

And I also don’t raise my own chickens.

For one, my people didn’t eat yardbird and some still consider it a dirty meal, however I do, so do my kids. Chicken is cheap, but we don’t pluck them, gather their eggs or kill and eat them. However, we have eaten so many versions of this dirty bird that at times I wondered if it was chicken. I can bake chicken one day and turn the leftovers into stir-fry the next day, that is sustainability to me.

I don’t stockpile food because I am a mother of four and really there is no such thing.

I used to garden as a child with my stepdad but a life of renting and mostly living in apartments, mostly HUD approved low income apartments, put the ixnay to any sort garden in my life, and also I don’t have a green thumb. I could find 21 ways to guarantee a houseplant will die a slow death, so I just don’t do plants. Not that I never tried. I just choose not to torture them anymore

I can’t afford organic foods, that is my reality.

And to top that all off, I was born an raised in one of the poorest places in this country, where the unemployment rate hovers between 75% to 90%.

This country screams about 8% while my people don’t scream about 80%. I want to scream at both sides “WAKE UP!”

So see, I can’t help but get offended when a groups of hipsters and yuppies ask me to join a group that “wants to save the world by preparing each other for disaster and economic downfall.” If you really think poverty is trendy, try spending a day on the streets with a homeless person, and see how they are treated. That is reality. Not a bunker full of dried goods and canned soup.

I’m crawling out of an economic downfall that took me longer than expected. I am preparing my children for a better life than I gave them. I don’t want a doomsday attitude even if the Mayans have a good hand. I want to live each and every day of my life, loving my life, loving the day, loving my family, and hoping tomorrow is better than today.

Because that is what us poor folks do. For real.

The post Survive: Because That is What us Poor Folks Do appeared first on Madness & Reality.

As pointed out, my friend and fellow writer Dana Lone Hill, racism, or racist acts toward Native Americans are as alive today as it was hundreds of years ago. Being Native American herself was born and raised on “the rez,” as she puts it, Dana constantly reminds us of this very fact. Of course you won’t see any mainstream media cameras on the reservation to cover any of this. But thankfully, because of Dana and the many citizen journalists like her, we’re able to be reminded — as we should — that the fight for the indigenous people of North America continues. Speaking of which, checkout the following story which involves 68-year-old Native American, Vern Traversie; and when you do, ask yourself, whether it will make national headlines. So what’s the story, or who is Vern Traversie? Well, according to Evelyn Red Lodge at the site, Last Real Indians:

Rapid City, South Dakota – A member and resident of the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe of South Dakota came home from a 14-day stay in the hospital to find he had been horribly mutilated.  Three Ks can be easily seen carved or burned into his abdomen in the shocking photograph taken the day after he came home.

Vernon Traversie, who is completely blind, said his nightmare began when he had a heart attack while at the Heart Doctors office in Rapid City last August.  He said they immediately sent him a few blocks away to Rapid City Regional Hospital for emergency surgery.

Traversie is a 68-year-old Lakota elder who told Last Real Indians, “I was supposed to have emergency surgery on my heart, but they (hospital) had scheduling problems.  Every night they would prep me for surgery which went on for four or five days.  Every night they would shave my chest and stomach and wouldn’t feed me.”

Being blind, Traversie said he didn’t even know what was done to him until a RCRH employee came into his room and advised him to have pictures taken of his chest and abdomen as soon as he got home.  He says she told him that she could not testify for him, but that her conscience got the better of her and she didn’t agree with what they did to him.

Last Real Indians asked retired nurse, Joyce Anderson, to view the photograph of Traversie’s injuries.  She was a surgical nurse for nine years and worked on the heart team at Baptist Hospital in Little Rock, Arkansas.  She said, “It appears the area under the incision was done with a scalpel for drainage of the incision.  The other wounds seem to be necrotic, meaning the tissue is dead.  This could indicate the wounds were burned into his skin.”

[...] The tribal police, FBI, and Traversie’s pastor all have photographs of the suspicious wounds.

Traversie said nothing is being done on his behalf by law enforcement and that the doctor who saw him at the nearby health facility said she could not make any statements about his injuries.

He explained that he has waited for seven months for his Rapid City attorney to take action on his behalf.

Traversie has posted the following video to YouTube explaining his ordeal. Calling it a hate crime committed by someone during his surgery, Traversie has decided to post his video because his attorney has been slow to act, and has also advised him to be quiet about his allegations.  Recounting his post-op ordeal Traversie said, “I had a male nurse come over and tell me to shut my fucking mouth, because I asked for pain medication after my surgery.” About his treatment he also said, “I felt scared and humiliated. I couldn’t even move my arms. I felt helpless.” He also explained that he found it odd that his request for transfer to a rehabilitation hospital was denied. Unaware of the “KKK” already carved into his abdomen, Traversie said that several people kept coming to his room to look at his his stomach — he assumes that they must have known.

Check out the video:

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The post Hate Crime: Blind Native American Man Has “KKK” Carved Into His Stomach During Hospital Stay? appeared first on Madness & Reality.

I had read a comment the other day by someone who said “racism was not important” and pretty much acted like it was non-existent. Now, I am not saying this to be racist, but the person that commented was white. And truth be told, you don’t ever feel racism when you’re white unless you are out of your element. Like my reservation, I once had a white boss who was stopped by the tribal police and given a ticket for speeding. He was going 90 in a 55, granted it was the middle of nowhere, but they called it a felony because he was speeding with intent to do deadly harm, or something like that. He fought it in tribal court and still had to pay about a thousand dollar ticket. I did laugh, even when he bitched and moaned about it, but when he said it was reverse racism because he was white, I stopped laughing. I said “Welcome to my world. If I had done that off the rez, I would be in jail.”

I live in the most racist state there is to be an American Indian, hands down. I never realized how racist it was until I moved away and wasn’t followed when I shopped.

To live in South Dakota, especially west of the Missouri River, near the Black Hills, and be an Indian is definitely a struggle. And I use the term “struggle” loosely, because I feel my ancestors knew what a real struggle was. Especially after being put on reservations. The way of life before that may have “looked like a struggle” to the white people who “settled” here because it wasn’t their way of life. The real struggle happened when Indians were forced into a way of life that wasn’t theirs. Especially after they defeated the U.S. Army at the Battle of Greasy Grass or what the government calls “The Little Big Horn Massacre”. Defending your own people when being attacked is not a massacre, it’s an ass kicking. And even though the whole 7th cavalry was wiped out in 1876 and their flag was taken in battle, to this day they still exist. Fourteen years after that ass kicking they massacred over 300 Lakota women, children, and men at Wounded Knee. I believe what I was taught, it was revenge.

After that the government forced a way of life on our people, they wanted providers who hunted to turn into farmers. They were given land to farm on that wasn’t fit for farming. Children were forced to speak another language, forced to go to boarding school where religion was forced on them, they were abused physically, emotionally, sexually…and this was supposed to be civilized and a better way of life?

To think that I have ancestors who had made it through that trauma and continued to carry on our ways of life and virtues shows me the strength in my people. There are also many others who had never recovered from the damage that was done to them. Some of that damage and anger carries on in the younger generations via historical trauma. Some people don’t think that historical trauma exists and that it is an excuse, yet these are the same people that hang flags on 9/11 and mourn. They love to tell you exactly where they were when that plane hit the first tower. I’m not saying there is anything wrong with honoring those who passed away that day, but there is no “getting over” a great tragedy. Especially when the tragedy happened to those you share DNA with. After all 9/11 is not the first time there were terrorist attacks on this soil. They had been happening for over 500 years.

So when I talk about racism in South Dakota, it is in no way comparable to what our ancestors had been through. But in this year 2012, it is alive and well. I never look for racism on purpose. I try to think maybe a librarian was having a bad day. Or that bus driver woke up with heart burn. Then when it’s apparent that racism has indeed showed it’s ugly face, I will speak up and demand my children be treated the same as others. I want my kids to know this and remember this about me, because I want them to know that it is not ok to let people continue to think it is fine to treat people different because of the color of their skin. (That is so stupid, anyway.) I know I have embarrassed my sons and sometimes they don’t want to tell me when something happened where they experienced racism but eventually they do, so maybe they really do want me to defend them. I just hope they do the same for their children someday, because if they don’t their grandmother will.

The first time I experienced it I was in the 1st grade. Up until that point in my life–all was ok. The most traumatic thing in my life was the fact that my parents divorced. It bothered me to have to split my time between my dad and my mom. Especially since my mom moved off the reservation and to the city to go to college.

The moment was in 1st grade, I was too young to know it was racism, but I knew it wasn’t right. I had started school at a white school, fresh off the reservation. I was looking forward to making friends. As soon as I walked in the classroom, I wondered if I was going to make friends. I was already shy, but the whole class was white.

I took my seat and the teacher made me come to the front of the classroom as she introduced me to the class. Some kids giggled at my last name and I wondered why they thought it was funny. I had thought some of their last names, when they introduced themselves to me sounded like a sneeze. I walked back to my desk and the class said the pledge of allegiance. As we were saying it I heard what the boy that sat next to me had said. I even remember his name-Greg.

He said, “Why did they have to put the Indian by me, everyone knows Indians stink. I don’t want to sit by no stinkin’ Indian.”

I remember my face turning hot as I turned to look at him because we were done saying the pledge. He was already at the teachers desk complaining about sitting by me.

I don’t remember how long I went to school there, it’s all kind of a blur. I do know it wasn’t long. I got my way after throwing a fit and moved back to the reservation to live with my Grandma.

What always stands out is remembering how someone hated me at age 6 because of who I am. Not even who I am as a person, but who I am based on my skin color. And this was another 6 year old. When I grew up and looked back on that, I realized he learned it at home. How in the world would a 6 year old child have such pre-concieved notions of another race? Sometimes I wonder about him, wonder how deep that hatred festered in him. Back in 1980, I was the only Indian in a class of about 30. When I moved back years later and my two oldest boys went to school there in kindergarten, they had a class of 31 and 26 were Indians, 2 were Mexican, 2 were black, and one boy was white.

I remember I let myself for a split second think that what if that one white boy was Greg’s son and hoping Greg knew how it felt by that fact. Then I thought, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Here I was, letting myself think stupid shit like that when here was a beautiful classroom of color and these kids didn’t know these thoughts. These kids had it right, for the time being. They didn’t give a shit like their parents did. I remember being like that until events unfolded in my own life to not trust.

But that’s how children are. Children usually always have it right because they have no prejudices until they are taught. The rest of the state of South Dakota is messed up. From the media to the social services to the police. You can ask any one Native here if they have ever dealt with racism in this state, and they will tell you they have. Albeit, not everyone is innocent, especially me. But to say I have dealt with racism in this state one or a couple of times would be far from the truth. To say one or a couple hundred times would be closer to the truth, but it would likely be more than that. If you think about it starting at age six and living in this state for the most part of my life, it is easily more than a couple hundred. I wouldn’t even be able to count.

Racism is not always huge and in your face, but you feel it like a pebble in your shoe. You see it daily in the media. It definitely exists in South Dakota. Which by all rights, half the state should belong to the Lakota.

The U.S. Government broke the 1868 Ft Laramie treaty by stealing our sacred Paha Sapa, the Black Hills, because of the gold found there. Then had the nerve to try and buy us out in this lawsuit by offering a settlement.

It took some growing up on my end to realize why we were so defiant to not “sell out” and take the money. As Lakota that is not who we are and the Paha Sapa are sacred to us. Money is not sacred to us like it is to some people. Our ancestors fought fr this land and the way of life, gave blood even. To us, the Black Hills are the center of the Universe. No scientist in the whole world can tell me that’s not true, because I believe that with my whole heart. And to me, it’s true.

And I can feel it when I drive through. Even though it is the biggest tourist trap there is. They have mined the hell out of our sacred land and took it for all its worth and the put up tourist traps that don’t make sense. Places that sell taffy, fudge, and Made in China bead-work. Places with reptiles and sharks and Scandinavian villages. The biggest insult to us is Mt Rushmore. Every one of those presidents had crimes against Indians.

No matter how much gold they took from the Black Hills, or how much money they make from the Black Hills, they are still sacred to us, because that never mattered in the first place. And no matter how much money the government offers for our people to go quietly away, it won’t happen. We will never sell out and we will continue to let people know why.

And I think maybe that is why racism is so thick in this state towards us. I am not saying any person who is not Lakota, Dakota, or Nakota is a racist here. I have friends who aren’t and are cool. I am treated good by way more people on a daily basis than not. Maybe I don’t experience it on a daily basis, maybe it’s only weekly. But to think how the one experience with my old boss wit “reverse racism” traumatized him, he would not walk a half a mile in my shoes on any day.

I believe the people in this state who are racist towards us, and act like they’re not, know deep down in their soul why they are. The same way that deep down in every soul of every person in the Great Lakota-Dakota-Nakota Nation that experienced racism in this state know why they’ve experienced it.

Because the sacred Paha Sapa belong to us, and they were stolen.

‎”Is it wrong for me to love my own? Is it wicked for me because my skin is red? Because I am Lakota? Because I was born where my father lived? Because I would die for my people and my country?” -Sitting Bull, Hunkpapa Lakota

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The first I noticed of the lawsuit recently filed in federal court, by the tribe I am proudly a member of was a link on Facebook that led to an article in a local paper. After I read it, I admit, I was astonished. The person who linked it was another tribal member who had made the remark about how the tribe just needed to legalize alcohol, already.

This is a tough subject to write about, the Oglala Sioux Tribe suing the four businesses in Whiteclay, Nebraska, the distributors, and the brewers. It seems to have divided the people into what should be done and what shouldn’t be done. And that’s only from what I gather on social networks, talking to a few on the phone, and a few emails.

I have been through the battle with alcoholism, I know it’s not over, I take it day by day, and am grateful every night when I close my eyes and I am sober. Of course it wasn’t easy-I had to hit bottom, practically lose everything including myself to find myself. And being a mother to four beautiful Lakota children, my recovery is the best thing that happened to me other than becoming a mother.

So when I heard about the lawsuit, I saw some of the opinions from some of the people back home posting from on and off the reservation. I knew I was going to want to look into it some more.

I, myself am guilty of giving money to all four establishments for beer. Nobody put a gun to my head and made me buy the beer, it was a low point in my life, I have no excuses. I don’t know when I became the girl who wanted to have a few beers to watch a baseball game to the girl who wanted a perpetual buzz. So I wanted to understand more why the tribe filed the lawsuit, when clearly, no one made me buy beer.

The first thing I did was read the lawsuit. And I realized to understand it, you have to understand the history of the Oglala Lakota. After getting past the long list of defendants, which include retailers, distributors, and brewers, I finally found the part called general allegations. The first part talks about the Oglala Sioux tribe being one of the Sioux tribes noted in the 1868 Ft. Laramie Treaty with the government. Therefore the tribe should have jurisdiction over all the lands agreed upon in the area called The Great Sioux Reservation. Lands that were unlawfully taken and the tribes still lays claim to. This would include all of western South Dakota, northern Nebraska, and Eastern Wyoming, including the Sacred Paha Sapa, (the Black Hills.) This area originally included 60 million contiguous acres.

When General Custer set out in 1874 with the U.S.Army on The Black Hills Expedition in the hopes of discovering gold, the land was Sioux land and he found gold. Once that discovery was made public, miners began migrating there illegally. Under presidential orders no military action was to be made against the miners occupation of the sacred Black Hills. These orders were to be enforced “quietly and confidentially.”

When the miners and settlers illegally occupying the sacred Black Hills became too numerous, the government decided to negotiate a price with the Sioux for the Black Hills. This failed because the Black Hills were considered to be sacred. The US declared the Sioux Indians “hostile” and resorted to military force in an expedition to remove the Sioux from the Black Hills. This included the encampment along the Little Bighorn River, which is better known in history as Custer’s Last Stand, or to us Indians-”Victory Day.”

In 1877, Congress passed an act to make the 7.7 million acres of the Sacred Paha Sapa available for sale to private interests and homesteaders. In 1889, Congress divided the Great Sioux Reservation into six separate reservations with defined boundaries. The Pine Ridge Reservation, being over 2 million acres have only 84,000 acres that are actually useful for agricultural use. That kind of made it hard for the purpose of The Dawes Act of 1887, which wanted to turn all Natives into farmers. The Lakota way of life of hunting and providing for each individual person’s own family was gone.

You’re probably wondering why I am digging up so much history for a lawsuit filed a few weeks ago over beer. There is a method to my madness, bear with me. I remembered something from my youth, at that point. A man who had lived just south of Whiteclay fighting and being able to have a reservation phone number, rather than a Nebraska number-which would have been long distance back then. And I remember hearing how he had this number because he lived in the ”Extension.” I remembered there was a little country school back there on the back roads in Nebraska called Extension School and a church called Extension church. I also remember he had won his right to have a reservation phone number because the area he lived in still an extension of the reservation. So I looked up the history of the small unincorporated town of Whiteclay,Nebraska.

The first thing I found out was that when you go to Whiteclay,Nebraska on Wikipedia it redirects you to Pine Ridge, Nebraska. Pine Ridge, Nebraska was referred to as Whiteclay after the extension. In 1882, after the boundaries of the reservation were established the US government added a 50 square mile strip of land called The Whiteclay Extension. The area under Executive Order was created to serve as a buffer zone to prevent the sale of alcohol to the residents of the Pine Ridge Reservation. Well, now I realized why everything was called extension and also that Whiteclay had turned into the exact opposite of what it was created for.

In 1904, without consulting the Oglala Sioux Tribe, President Roosevelt signed an executive order removing 49 of the 50 square miles of The Whiteclay Extension.

Alcohol was immediately available for sale at a trading post near the border of the reservation.

And that is where the four retailers named in the lawsuit have set up shop. They sell 4.9 million cans of beer a year in a town with the population of 12. This is mind boggling. The life expectancy rate on the Pine Ridge Reservation is 54 for women and 48 for men. It makes you wonder what took so long, or why nothing was done before. Now I don’t know any laws about guns and this is only an example, (not about gun control before anyone gets all up in my kool-aid) but it seems to me if a town of 12 had four gun shops and was selling nearly five million bullets a year and the residents in the town nearby had the life expectancy of a third world country, the government would have stepped in. It makes you wonder if President Roosevelt’s purpose for the executive order of making the Whiteclay Extension public domain was sort of the same as handing out blankets with small pox.

6+3None of the twelve residents live below the poverty line in this unincorporated town. In fact the median income for a family in Whiteclay is $76,250 with the median income of a male resident being $25,625 versus the median income for a female resident of Whiteclay being $53,750. The average per capita income on the Pine Ridge Reservation is $6,286.

This per capita, along with the 80% unemployment rate, and all the other statistics on the Pine Ridge Reservation that only compare to Haiti in this Western Hemisphere, are a part of what feeds fire of alcoholism. Well, that and 4.9 million cans of beer a year. 4.9 million cans that are illegally transported onto the dry reservation.

It seems the lawsuit has divided the tribe into those who want legalization of alcohol to those who want to remain a dry reservation.
The argument is definitely there for legalization.

I have heard many different opinions and facts as to why we should legalize alcohol. Take away the power from the bar owners in Whiteclay and other surrounding border towns. Use the revenue to help the people. To take care of our own, to build treatment centers, to take care of our youth, elders, etc.

And then there are those that say we should do something, but stay a dry reservation. The belief is that making alcohol legal on the reservation will not change anything but make things worse.

They believe that the sales of alcohol can be regulated but not the impacts. Although you have to take into factor how much money is spent incarcerating everyone who is arrested for a liquor violations, rather than the recovery.

It appears to me, that in asking the few people I have asked about this lawsuit the tribe, the Oglala Lakota who were led by Crazy Horse in preserving the Lakota way of life, remains divided and agrees only on one thing.

Something has to change.

-Said the woman who believes we should have asked for treatment centers, wellness centers, detox centers, and homeless shelters to keep our people out of Whiteclay.

-Said the man who lost his sister, mother, and numerous other family members to alcoholism. In fact, he asked me if I could name one person on the reservation on the reservation who hasn’t lost someone to illness, death, or incarceration due to alcoholism. I couldn’t.

-Said the elderly lady who was born in the 30’s and wasn’t raised by her parents because they were already lost to alcoholism.

-Said the man who believes we need to start working together and believing in each other again.

-Said my son, who not only lost grandmothers and an auntie to alcoholism but his mother, me, for a short time out of his life.

-Said the woman who raised too many grandchildren and wonders when it all stopped being about the children.

-Said my mother, who 30 years ago wanted to shut Whiteclay down after seeing so many children being born with fetal alcohol syndrome.

So this lawsuit hit the press like a train and people are talking, I have read some comments but I quit. They will continue to talk about how it’s not possible, how nobody made the people drink, how the tribe will lose, etc. They can talk, because they never had to live on the reservation.
And, at least they are talking.

As Lakota, we have the obligation to be sober, to take care of our own. The healing needs to begin. We recognize that we have had historical trauma and grief with all that was lost. (Historical trauma that I barely even began to write about here.) We recognize the need to begin the healing process, maybe this lawsuit will provide a way to build the facilities to provide those services to do that. Whether that be via monetary settlement or legalization.

And as most of the Lakota from Pine Ridge that I ask about the lawsuit say the same thing. “What took so long?”

We wonder what took so long for people, our people to even talk about it, and we know clearly that something has to change.

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