The Hedonistic Pleasureseeker

Washte! Russell Means outlines the reasons why Lakota Nation is in the process of cutting itself from its treaties with the U.S., not as if the U.S. were living up to them anyway. Native reservations are already SOVEREIGN, the way our states were before the Civil War. Consequently there will be no “secession,” because none is needed. The existence of casinos, the operation of which makes them subject to Federal law, might pose a tricky problem for their attorneys. Also, two Lakota reservations have publicly announced their lack of support for Russell’s venture. Since each reservation enjoys varying levels of sovereignty things will probably get complicated. This does not bother the Lakota mind: Politics on the rez have always been complicated and they’re used to it.

For the record, money is not the issue here and Russell has big plans: Free energy from a windmill farm, casino income, no taxes, and a libertarian approach to governance. Did you know that Russell Means is a colleague of Ron Paul? They even ran against each other in the Libertarian Party the first time Dr. Paul ran for U.S. President.

The District of Columbia - the United States of America and not the U.S. (there is a difference, which is why the District is hearing the case), is conducting hearings of WHY, for God’s sake already, the District has not returned the Indian Trust Fund money it stole and spent? There is a huge settlement due to several indian nations, which makes me wonder: Is this settlement, like the Farm Settlements, one of the many attached to the Leo Wanta multi squibillion dollar settlement? Could be!

Americans all over the country are offering to help the Lakota in all sorts of ways: Constitutional attorneys, businessmen who want to invest, conservationists and alternative energy activists, and landowners who want to donate their farm land to the Nation. Russell Mean’s phone is ringing off the hook from people who want to defect!

I majored in Native American (Dakota/Lakota/Nakota) studies for awhile at the University of Minnesota and spent a lot of time at Prairie Island during those years when Amos and Ion Owen, the “first family” among Lakota community and spiritual elders, were hosting weekend sweat lodges in their back yard. I spent weekends in my boyfriend’s tipi and stoked the fire that heated the rocks, cooked at countless powwows (Mankato was a is a popular meeting place) and even witnessed two Sun Dances (Greengrass and Rosebud in South Dakota), something that palefaces were seldom allowed to do back then. They called me Zitkada, or “little bird,” or “chickadee.”

To the West, I pray to the Horse Nation
and to the North, I pray to the Elk People.
To the East, I pray to the Buffalo Nation,
And to the South, the Spirit People.
To the Heavens, I pray to the Great Spirit
and to the Spotted Eagle.
And Below, I pray to Mother Earth
to help us in this time of reconciliation.
Grandfather, I offer these preayers
in my humble way.
To all my relations.
- Amos Owen

I remember sitting at the kitchen table with Ione, and her telling me stories. It was my 20th birthday.

“I don’t even know my birthday,” she told me. “Spring. It was the spring. April maybe.” When she was a little girl she was taken away from her family, made a ward of the state and placed in an orphanage/boarding school so that she would grow up “civilized.”

“We all had the same name (Winona*) so they had to give us all new English names. The nuns were so clean,” she said. The school taught her how to speak and write in English, how to cook, and how to wash her hands. While in her teenage years they taught her how to perform first aid.  “Always rinse the soap off before you use it,” she advised me, and told me to also rinse it off before putting it back.  “Most people don’t think about that. There are germs on the soap. You wash the soap before you wash your hands.”

She stopped and was quiet for about 10 seconds. I knew to keep my mouth shut while an elder was telling a story. “I’ve never told anybody about any of this,” she said quietly, “but I am telling you. Han. That’s interesting. Han.”

I even had a crush on Amos and Ione’s youngest son Duffy. He was a fantasy warrior, the kind you might see on the cover of a romance novel: Long shiny black hair, sparkling black eyes and a body that . . . mmmm . . . nevermind. He was really smart, too. Once, in Ione’s kitchen I remarked upon his gorgeousness she said, quite sternly actually, “Duffy is going to marry a nice indian girl.” I hadn’t planned to go down that road but wow: Apparently Duffy had no shortage of white girl admirers! Today Duffy is a filmmaker, producing what I believe are documentaries about Minnesota and Native American history.

I met Russell Means and his posse once or twice at Prairie Island a long time ago. I recall motorcycles and pickup trucks and a campfire and way too much yang energy about him. I sensed his prodigious temper and obstinate personality: Mark my words he was a controversial character back in the day. His handshake was warm and friendly and firm, though. It was rumored that he might take over the role of community leader for Amos someday; I suppose that was a big part of the controversy. Lakota (esp. the men) are attached to their subterranean political infighting, and they know it, too: It’s just their “thing” and sometimes I wonder whether intra-tribe bickering are characteristic of all tribal peoples. Amos Owen was the spiritual and tribal leader for the Lakota, while Russel Means was an activist and a politician, so was Means even right for the job? Amos was such a gentle person; he spoke so quietly that whole rooms full of people fell silent when he spoke. He was a prophet, and the legends about the eagles and hawks that flew above him are true: I saw them. However, Russell was so different. He was an activist and a politico on fire.

(1992: Russell Means braids his son’s hair. Photo by Ilka Hartmann)

It takes an awful long time for the Lakota to come to a group decision on anything, and the meetings of the elders last for hours and hours because it is taboo to interrupt or hold someone to a limit when it comes to telling a story or expressing an opinion. They’re done talking when they are done talking. They don’t make a decision until they reach a consensus. There is no “majority rules” bullshit; everyone needs to leave the meeting satisfied. It probably took awhile for a consensus was reached on Russel Means’ future as spiritual and/or tribal leader.

Look at him: Either they gave him a sedative for this video or he’s settled down! He’s so mellow and steady and gentle, yet still stubborn and firm. It looks as though the Lakota Nation has a strong leader speaking for (almost all of) them. Washte.

* Winona is the name for “first born girl”

(Photo: Black Hills News Bureau)