Mitakuye Oyasin

The snow has since melted on the great plains in Indian country. The bright sun is beginning to show itself more each day. Spring is in the air and you can smell the freshness of the grass that grows underfoot.

Newly born buffalo calves roam the countryside. Adult salmon make their way up stream to spawn, as the bears, fresh from hibernation, are waiting for them at the river's edge.

Daylight hours are stretching longer into the evenings as the sun lowers a little later each day, before disappearing behind the mountains, ready to rise again the next morning.

As darkness begins to fall, a light mist rises over the banks of the Cannon Ball River and spreads through the village. Like the spirits of the Lakota ancestors, it holds a mysterious presence, something you can't touch, yet can feel as it caresses your skin.

Strong Horse (named as such for being as strong as a horse) steps out of his tipi, in his arms he cradles his new born son. The 28 year old Hunkpapa Lakota man stands proud, his long black hair hangs down over his muscular shoulders and the infant reaches up to try to grab the ends that stop just short of his tiny face.

The expression of a hardened warrior that usually adorns the face of this Indian chief has momentarily melted. His life has changed forever.

Other members of the tribe approach him. They look at the child and smile, for they all will play a part in the life of this latest arrival. There can be no truer representation of the phrase 'it takes a village to raise a child', than when speaking of the Lakota people. The pride in the eyes of this new father is evident for all to see, and they rejoice with him in this greatest gift, the gift of life.

Strong Horse looks into his baby's eyes and speaks, "I am the pale moon in the darkest of skies. I am the river that runs to the sea. I am the opening in a forest of trees. I am the wind in your hair," he pauses as he walks towards the fire, the wood crackles and pops, occasional sparks rise up from the flames and make their way to the stars, "I am whatever you need whenever you need it. My blood flows through your veins and always will." He sits beside the fire, the flickering orange light makes shadows across their faces. Looking up at the stars, memories of ancestors that have since past come to the forefront of his mind. He feels the warmth of his father as if he were still here and sighs. A single tear rolls down his cheek. It is a tear of both happiness and sadness. A few moments pass and he heads back to the tipi.

The camp is now under complete darkness except for a moonbeam that casts a ray of light which reflects across the tops of the tipis near the centre of the village. The only sounds come from the surrounding wildlife, the coyotes, the wolves, the owls.

The new born baby lays sleeping across his mother's stomach. She is sleeping too, trying to get a little rest before he wakes demanding more food. They breathe in unison as they lay supine on a colourful woven blanket.

Strong Horse sits watching them, in his eyes there is a look of contentment. His life has become whole. His reason for being has just raised up a notch. He now feels complete.

Over time, Strong Horse proves his worth as a father. His son idolises him and they spend a lot of time together. He teaches him to hunt and how to make a bow and some arrows. He shows him how to fish...and how to generally be an asset to the tribe. Because of who his father is, the boy gains a certain instant respect. That is something he enjoys, and only increases his admiration for his father.

As time passes, the boy grows into a young man. Strong Horse takes him up to the edge of the Badlands. As they look out across the plains his father speaks to him about life. The words are few yet full of meaning, "Mitakuye oyasin" says the father, "we are all related. Everything in the universe is connected", he explains. "If you always remember mitakuye oyasin, and respect all on this Earth, you will live a full and prosperous life my son."

The boy looks up at his father with a certain adoration in his eyes, "mitakuye oyasin", he repeats his father's words.

Strong Horse smiles, "Ohan, indeed."

For hundreds of years the Lakota people lived the same way, with the same values. This continued through Strong Horse and his son.

...but sadly change came, and not for the better. Slowly but surely, that old way of life disappeared.

Many many moons have passed since the time of Strong Horse. Many generations have come and gone.

The world is now a different place.

The white man has taken over the land, killing many of the Lakota people that stood in their way, whilst labelling THEM savages.

The land that was once worshipped is now taken for granted. It is being raped of all its innocence.

The Lakota people are still here, albeit their numbers diminished. They still stand for Mother Earth, for the water, for the mountains, for the the plains, for the trees. They take from the land only what they need.

They fight for their rights, but more so, the rights of mother nature. They fight against corporate greed and those that put money ahead of all else. They fight for a planet that is being strangled by the hands of the human race.

They fight, they fight, they fight!

They never give up on their belief in 'mitakuye oyasin'.

How can the rest of us not see it? A Native American proverb... 'When the last tree has been cut down, the last fish caught, the last river poisoned, only then will we realise that one cannot eat money'.