Monday, March 9, 2009

Today is a Good Day for Justice!

I got so excited when I saw that 94 people have signed the Winnemem Restoration petition thus far and wanting to reach that 1000 mark, even exceeding it, so Senators Boxer and Feinstein will take notice. Check it out!

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/support-justice-for-the-winnemem-wintu-tribe

Grassroots support such as this have been key in supporting the Winnemem Wintu people of Northern CA to bring back their coming of age ceremony, in their efforts to stop the further raising of Shasta Lake Dam, and for their continued struggle to gain restoration of their tribal status. The great victory last August, CA legislators passing AJR38 supporting restoration of the Winnemem has been sent to the US Congress by the Legislature. However, Senators Boxer and Feinstein are in a "wait and see mode."

Today, a few days after women around the world have been celebrated for their grassroots work (International Women's Day) please stand in solidarity with this courageous woman Chief of the Winnemem Wintu, Caleen Sisk Franco -- a woman who follows another remarkable and strong woman leader and doctor Florence Jones, and who took part of the UN Human Rights Declaration for Indigenous People and won the support of indigenous leaders around the world, a woman leader who led the War Dance at Shasta Lake Dam, brought back the Coming of Age Ceremony for her young daughter, a woman leader who stands without hesitation and for as long as it takes to protect the sacred places, the salmon, water, the right for her people to exist against all odds, in the face of dams, water bottling multinational corporations, genocidal US Indian policy. Please take just a few seconds to get on the webpage below and sign the petition for the restoration of the Winnemem Wintu and let Senators Boxer and Feinstein know that today is not a day to "wait and see" but the day to do the right thing for justice too long delayed! In solidarity, Misa

Saturday, March 7, 2009

A Long Journey to Justice

Please click on the link below to sign the petition for justice -- restoration for the Winnemem Wintu! Thank you, Misa

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/support-justice-for-the-winnemem-wintu-tribe

Support Winnemem Wintu Sovereignty!
Winnemem Wintu Head Man, Mark Franco, created this online petition.

I ask you to take some time to join me and sign on/pass it on to your contacts to get a wide base response. The push for justice has started in earnest! According to Mark, "The Winnemem are heading to court and we need to develop as much support as we can." Please help. Thank you ! Misa

Friday, March 6, 2009

Today's Treat

Mom, apparently, was very lucid last night and spoke in Nihongo (Japanese language) for 50 minutes with Eric, med aide at Southtowne, about her youth in Idaho, the farm, what grew in the fields. Today, I tried to see if she would speak again in her first language. But she answered me in English. Maybe I'll get to witness another moment like Eric's. The thought excites both Maki, my daughter and me.

Today when we came back from our ride a Volley Balloon game was going on within a circle of elders. The big yellow balloon with a smiley on it would float in the air and some would kick it, hit it like a volleyball with two hands, swat it, or be hit in the head sending it floating upward. My mom would sit her eyes widened and when the balloon neared, her right hand would dart out quickly like a cat's, and the balloon would fly in an impressively controlled direction with just enough force. I felt the pride of a child athlete's parent for my 88 year old Ma. My daughter Maki felt the same, cheering her grandma on. "You have to write about this on your blog, Mom," she said to me, grinning at her grandma's accomplishment.

Just last week mom wasn't eating again, and sleeping way too much. I suspected a bladder infection since these are her symptoms. But the the test did not show enough bacteria to merit treatment. Nothing I did could convince anyone that something was amiss and mom wasn't just advancing into further dementia. I had some natural bladder medicine from my naturapath. I wasn't using it since my Winnemem family brought me Winnemem medicine. It occurred to me that I could give it to my mother and see if it would help. Something had to be done since mom wasn't eating and was disoriented and fearful. My mom responded within a couple of doses. By the next day, she was back to eating, her personality returned and today, she's batting the balloon around. I wouldn't miss any of this for the world -- her lucid moments, her "having fun" moments, her "love everyone and the world" moments, even the scary sick moments if they lead to getting well. I treasure my responsibility. What a ways I have traveled since mom first moved here, stressing out with trips to emergency over angina, extended sleeplessnes, worried she'd wander out into the night and the pharmaceuticals which robbed her of her personality. Three years later, she is safe at Southtowne, we can sleep at night, and although we cannot leave mother in their hands, with constant vigilance, a gifted naturapath, and teamwork with Southtowne staff who care about our mother, we have this precious time. I appreciate so many of the staff. Some are responsible for cleaning yet they take the time to love my mom. Susana tells her she's beautiful each day. Med Aide Katrina's sharp mind and eye catch on to mom's health needs immediately. Nothing drops through the cracks on her watch. Sarah gives mom such loving attention. Ysenia showers mom and always dresses her with care and fixes her hair so she looks quite stylish. This is not a small thing in a dementia center, and everyone does not do this for the elders. Mom is very safe and cared for even late at night by her special team of men on the night crew -- Jonathon, Jose, Freddie -- and, of course, Eric who makes Southtowne a home for her with kindness and compassion in Nihongo. Each of them are part of what makes our Mother happy. When we come back from a ride, Eric says "O-kairi!" welcoming her. And it makes me feel like I too have come home.

I deleted a recent blog to post this one in its place -- my ritual tonight, a symbolic act to commit to new priorities. I am making a commitment, inspired by my Chief, to spend my precious moments with people and commitments which give back and does not distract from a cycle of life. These treasured moments with my mom in my daughter's company is how I spent today and will spend many, many tomorrows.

This past week I spent with my Winnemem family up from California. My Chief, Caleen Sisk Franco and her husband and tribal Headman, Mark Franco came up to speak at PIELC invited by the Native American Law Student's Association. Things came into perspective quickly. For one, the daily challenges facing the Winnemem from all directions -- the federal government, the dam, Nestle's corporation, etc. diminishes any complaint. Two, the family feeling, the laughter is grounding. Three, the hike into the woods in Hendricks, the time spent looking through the collections in the Knight Library looking for Winnemem Wintu records brought focus all day on work which sustains rather than diminishes. And the spiritual work of the Winnemem leaders whether it was the way in which they began a meeting of very diverse peoples coming together to break bread and join in support work or whether it was to do ceremony to bring a shattered family back together, all of it felt so good to my husband Will and me as any time we are able to spend with our Winnemem family. They take care of us.

So, I will put in time with work on behalf of the Winnemem tribe who takes care of us. I will take a brisk energizing walk in the morning to the fairgrounds and spend some time with Homeless Connect, part of my network and with this joint work, it gives back many times over. I will celebrate a Sister friend who withstood crisis with great dignity tomorrow with others and follow it with a nice dinner with good friends and Maki, my daughter, celebrating Yujin Gakuen. I'll add more each day as other obligations end. Hopefully ahead of me will be time for qigong, walks, working to prepare for Coming of Age ceremony in June, and new adventures which are within a cycle of life and does not detract me with hierarchies and dichotomies. Some can do this well, but I never have been able to. It is no wonder I sought refuge among middle schoolers my whole life avoiding work with adults. It was silly of me to do any differently now that I am retired.

So hanging with mom and Maki, watching a yellow balloon with a smile drawn on it floating back and forth in a circle of elders, each one with a full and delightful personality despite dementia, was the treat I gave myself today.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Carry Seeds

Will and I are going to become part of TsukiMikai 3, an oral history project and cultural exchange of Nikkei from the United States with the Nikkei of Cuba. From what we are reading of the history of Nikkei there, there was a period of time in the early '20's that large numbers immigrated there. But even before then, although in small numbers, immigration began as early as 1917. We learned about this from Steve Wake, director of "Under the Same Moon," who showed at our film festival last year. As luck would have it, Steve stayed with us because he was one director who did not mind sleeping on a couch in our humble home. Steve is one of the more engaging people we've met. First of all, it didn't feel like we met him for the first time. Never mind that we have the very same Mission style rocker, the same wood burning stove, never mind that both our eldest daughters are named Josina and both are named after the same Mozambiquan freedom fighter. I guess it's that it seems we feel "at home" in the same circumstances. Anyway, Will and I feel "at home" with Steve. I'm hoping someday he and his family will come with us to Winnemem. And this time it will be at home in Cuba.

I have friends who have gone or who plan to go. It's much more casual than our trip. It is so JA that we study our readings and have homework and do activities which check if we did our readings. I had to giggle when Steve announced at the first meeting, "we're going to play jeopardy" with the reading and I could hear one of our group groaning "we had to read this before today?" The night before Will had complained, "you're not really going to read this this late are you? They won't expect this by the meeting."

"Are you kidding?" I said. This JA studied!!

I'm just being humorous here because it is important we know this stuff. Tsukimikai has a purpose, and we have work to do.

Today's blog is a result of our homework this week. For our cultural exchange part, one of our team will be writing a play. The play will be inspired by our JA experience and to capture that, we were given some prompts and encouraged to do 15 minutes of writing. I am posting one of my pieces today because as I wrote I realized this piece was not a poem waiting to happen as I had always thought but something as simple as the answer to "Why I want to go to Cuba" -- a place where I have heard still live some original Issei, who immigrated during the time our grandparents left their ancestral homeland for new lands across the Ocean.

As an adult I attended a photo exhibit in Portland about (internment) camp days. Accompanying many of the photos were stories. One of them reminded me of my Grandfather. The story was that the Nikkei, especially the Issei -- each one only allowed to carry just what they could carry in two hands -- buried within their suitcases little packets of seeds.

My grandfather always made small packets of his seeds after each harvest -- cantelope, tomato, squash and others -- choosing carefully from the harvest, drying and cleaning the seeds, wrapping them carefully in newspaper or packaging paper in tidy little squares, and writing in Nihongo what seeds lay within, waiting for the earth, water and warmth of springtime. I always loved to watch him. These little packets left from the previous harvest are what I chose as my inheritance when he passed on. I still treasure them. After all these years -- fifty years since his death, sixty from when I used to watch him go through this ritual -- these tidy packets remain secure, the seeds still tucked carefully inside. I'd try to plant them but I can't bear to break his packets open. Thinking about my grandpa, his careful work, the tidy packets that lay in a drawer at home, I couldn’t hold my tears back. My tears rolled down my face at the moment I realized “I would have forgotten to pack the seeds.”

It’s hard to express the grief of losing a whole generation of people but that is the moment that encapsulates it for me. If I had dug deeply I would have known that I am going to Cuba in the hopes of meeting an Issei in that nation of a few long-lifed elders because I have been too far removed from that precious generation for so long. I will probably never stop grieving them.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Sandwiching for the Lunar New Year

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. I remember back to a Super Bowl Sunday ten years or so ago -- probably a tricky Monkey Year -- when our daughter left home at fifteen, to seek her way on her own. Today, four days after the beginning of the Ox Year, on another Super Bowl Sunday, ironically, Maki has moved home, twenty five years old, much wiser and seeking to enjoy family. She was working for the film industry in Salt Lake Citys until now. However, the grim economic news was followed by several movies stopping production. A whole year's employment dried up overnight. That was when Maki made a decision to be unemployed and looking for a job back at home in Eugene so she could be close to her Obachan. She is still saying, "I can't believe I want to be in Eugene." She had this desire to help care for an elder, lift their heart, ease their day -- and being with her favorite family member, her Obachan, seemed enough of a draw to bring her home again.

Her dad flew out to SLC help her drive, and they arrived safely in her bright red 1998 BMW last night after a long road trip from Salt Lake to Eugene.

Tonight felt sandwichy.

Tonight Maki is down the hall in her old bedroom/guestroom sick in bed with 102 degree temperature She's coughing away, drinking down echinnecea, gai mai len, a jar of juice and homeopathic night time cough syrup.

I left her to check on Mom who is just getting over being sick, coughing away. Something told me that I should drop in to see if she was sleeping all right. She wasn't. Mom was not only not in bed yet, she was quite disoriented. She hadn't received her 7 o'clock remedy which calms her mind. The time had long passed for it to be effective. I succeeded in getting her in bed but she couldn't sleep. She was very itchy and restless. I rubbed her itchy arms with lotion which soothed her, but afterwards, she couldn't relax her arms and held them up in zombie mode. No matter how she tossed and turned, Mom's arms stayed stretched stiffly out in front of her. Sleep was not going to happen.

Mom's roommate Clare who always wants the room temperature amped up began to complain that there wasn't enough air, and kicked off her blankets. If Clare is hot, then the room is definitely too hot for my mama. I looked at Clare, and back at mom lying on her back this time, with her arms still straight up in the air and thought, "It's time to advocate, squeak the wheel." I complained to the caregiver and she checked the thermostat. The temperature was over 80 degrees, way too hot. She turned it down and it began to cool. Mom was being goofy and making bird sounds. Eventually, she was able to put her arms down but still couldn't relax. She shifted to her monkey laugh. "KaaaaKaaaa KaaaaKa.. . . ." right in the middle of which she fell fast asleep. Weird. I have never seen anyone do that -- fall asleep in the middle of a laugh.

I drove home. It was late. As I walked in the back door, memories of Mom's "KaaaKaaaa" morphed into a coughing fit coming from Maki's room.

Will and I are officially sandwiches joining the others of our generation taking care of their parents and their children.

However, we welcome the good day ahead -- the help and company of both sides of our sandwich. Mom gives love like no other which fills Maki and us with giggles. Maki could do with some Obachan induced giggles after spending most of her life "unto herself."

For her part of the sandwich, Maki is a blessing to her Obachan and parents, now that she is grown up, excited about the possibilities the days ahead offer, ready to take her place in the community civic life, and looking for a job. Looking for a job has never daunted our girl. She likes all the scary challenges and looks forward to interviewing for a new job in a state with high unemployment, gets excited about selling something to someone who doesn't want it, and can't wait to ask for sponsorship from businesses for DisOrient in the middle of a historic recession. She wants to do it all.

It is a welcome surprise that Maki looks forward to doing stuff together with us, her parents. She wants to go with me to visit Obachan and looks forward to feeding her. Thank heavens! Mom happily takes food from Maki without resistance. After years of childhood competition with Margaret, Maki's excited to see her and her new baby. Maki's also looking forward to visiting Auntie and Uncle and all the Winnemem. She's announced we're going to cook together, take daily walks together. We'll see. All I can say is, "What a difference a decade makes. " It's a very different Super Bowl Sunday than in 1999. The Year of the Ox has opened with some major shifts whether from the White House or from our house.

I've been away from blogging but will soon return to it. Things are perculating. Other things are settling. It may be a hard year but it does feel like we're all in it together (ala Ox Year) -- all in the same sandwich -- and it takes the edge off of things. Happy Day 11 of the Lunar New Year!

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

First Prayers for a New Day

For the past three decades I've been following the tribal way, and have learned how strong sincere prayers can be. Praying with great intention in a circle whether at a pow wow or ceremony, I've witnessed healing. I accompanied my friend Alicia and her husband Don who is a Sundancer to a Sundance. Men and women suffered four days and nights, without food, very little water, pierced and their sacrifice made strong prayers for Everybody, not just themselves or Native people, all the Earth.

Klamath elder Edison Chiloquin and his first wife Lietha decided to start a Sacred Fire to carry their prayers for the return of their land and they kept it going on ancestral land, sacred land. When she died, Edison carried on by himself with a little help from friends. Refusing to touch the quarter million dollars the US government gave as an afterthought after seizing rich and beautiful Klamath Modoc land (the Winema Forest) Edison just kept the fire going morning, night, rain, snow, all the seasons. That's where I met Will and we'd go once a month to help him get big pitch stumps for the Fire so he could have a day's rest. SIX AND A HALF years later of keeping the Fire alive, those strong prayers were answered and his land returned to him. You can read about it. Jimmy Carter signed the Chiloquin Act into law as his last act as President.

And following the Winnemem way I have seen many strong things prayers can accomplish -- unbeatable odds. For the Winnemem and other native peoples, that first prayer each morning, or that first prayer at ceremony are strong prayers and very important. Prayers are important because we are not in this Alone. Nowadays when I pray for something which seems so far from possibility, I pray that "everyone know where that help came from." For me, my faith has grown by witnessing the incredible changes in human transformation, healing, in protection of the Earth, in the few seizing the attention of the many because of strong prayers.

So that is the perspective I come from. Those experiences have created this huge context for me for what follows.

I've said that I've been praying a long time for our President Elect and his family. Everytime someone dared to say a word about safety, or what happened to MLK or Malcolm, I would say, "don't put words to your fear. Just pray for him" and I would pray. As I said before, I prayed at the Sacred Places for Barack Obama and our country. I prayed that all of us would see the Truth of what was happening to this country so clearly that the hate which divides us would become meaningless to every American and they will see the truth and vote without fear. I prayed that at the Spring. When Wall Street thieves could no longer cover up the crime, worry was not on my mind because I was too awed by Spirit. On the day after the historic election when we saw the tribal dancers halfway around the world in his father's country who danced for hours on end through the night for this American President, my Hoopa friend and I recognized that powerful prayers were at work for secure this moment. People all around the world, all around this country prayed ferverently not so much, I believe, for victory, but for victory for what was right, for quality, peace, Mother Earth, to help the elderly, the children, end poverty, all of this in the most hopeless of times dominated by treachery, war, disdain for the Constitution, and disinterest the state of the people and the earth.

In that context, you can understand why his choice for the person to say the first prayer of his administration, to set the way, was an insurmountable disappointment for me. I'm not sad because of my politics -- but because the inaugaral prayer for the Obama Presidency is about just that, politics, to make a political point that even those we disagree with is part of the circle. Prayer is too important for such a thing, especially in these times, especially following what the US has wrought, especially because of the miracle of this new Presidency. The first prayer of a New Day is the most significant part of the ceremony rather than a throw away opportunity to make a political gesture. One might say, even the taking of the oath and the New President's speech take secondary position to a humble prayer to the Creator Spirit.

I consider Maya Angelou's poem on Bill Clinton's inaugaration, the First Prayer, a poem which says Good Morning to a bright new day when all people could lift themselves up from the swamp of hording and killing, of slavery, genocide and war, and lift themselves up no matter who we are to do what we Humans are meant to do -- those closest to the angels -- taking our future and our children's future into our good hands.

For this President, I had expected something at least like Maya Angelou's poem. It never occurred to me someone would be picked who was so identified with white privilege, a middle aged white male Christian evangelical minister who preached hate and intolerance from his pulpit against gay and lesbian couples being able to be married in California supporting the passage of Prop 8. That is political. The new President says this is not to be construed as a big deal, that he's about differences being respected. ok. But this is the first prayer of his Presidency, setting the tone, asking for the Help, gathering all the blessings together. Please pick someone other than a California Christian minister who preaches against the equality of gays, lesbians, and nonChristians.

I know exactly the moment I realized that the human being -- no matter how strong, independent, charismatic, no matter if part of an exciting movement, no matter how strong the family and friendship -- the human being could not do anything without the Great Creator. That moment came to me when I became a parent. I could not walk a single step without falling without help. I was hoping Barack Obama saw prayer in that light, something to lift up his people, to strengthen his heart, clarify his vision and to think of all of us -- protect our hearts and spirit, to do good, and to take care of our responsibilities to all of Life, prayer more likely to come from an elder who has witnessed and survived many travails. I would have hoped that first prayer would have been said by someone whose life lessons had taught him or her that we ALL are precious, a person who had lived long and hard enough to have no judgment as the plants do not. A Potowatami Indian Doctor I know from Michigan said something I've never forgotten -- that the human being must learn the language of "unconditional love." That is the language of plants, he said. A plant will give its goodness -- food, medicine, beauty -- to anyone who comes and picks from it, even if it is the most evil person in the world. That plant will help everyone. This doctor said, I am sad to say that at my age I have learned all I can from the human being and for the rest of my life, I will learn from the plant. That's the kind of powerful love and wisdom I would have wished the person to have who prayed that first prayer of the first day of Barack Obama's Presidency -- because so many around the world have prayed so hard for him to be where he and his family are today and have put so much hope into him.

I'm not throwing hope away, but I feel we're going out into the fray quite naked with a leader who thinks we can do all of it all together-but-by-ourselves. I find myself often having to sigh and focus, "I'm Winnemem and my leader is Caleen." That morning, as with all mornings, my leader will be praying for our country, all its people, the Earth and President Obama even if.
I guess I'll just do the same and also pray for the man who preached hate from the pulpit that he will be humbled by the opportunity to make that first prayer for America on inaugaration day and unconditional love and humility will flood into his heart and only goodness will pour from his mouth for all people even those beyond his personal experience -- especially those who are not exactly as he -- so that everyone will know where the healing came from.

Monday, January 5, 2009

WW/ On Leaders

I read the headline for Raw Story -- from Cheney: "Bush Actions Legal if Not Impreached." Such a slimey, sleazy way to look at legality. What kind of people has this country been stuck with for eight years. What does this say about America.

Deep breath.

My leader is Caleen Sisk Franco. Today, she is juggling her responsibilities as Chief, and each responsibility has nothing to do with walking a fine line of legality, slipping and sliding along trying to get away with bad decisions that killed hundreds of thousands of people, and put his country into harms way economically, especially the elders and the children. She is taking care of the sacred lands, praying for her people, assisted by her husband, Mark, Head Man, making statements and decisions in the political arena (advocating for her people and the land in front of the kind of people who share Cheney's world view), and setting the tone and organization for burying a precious warrior who died January 2, early in the morning. Her people are extremely busy today. And Will and I will miss being there. It's too soon to ask my sister back to take care of mom to go to participate in the wake and funeral right now. Her people are busy. Some are making the nourishing feast to take care of the guests and travelers. One has made the casket to take care of our loved one. The young warriors are digging into the hard clay at the cemetery. There is so much to be done to take care of Life.

Our Winnemem elder, Emerson Miles, told me decades ago when asked what was the Human Being's job in this life: "The Human Being is supposed to take care of Life." As simple as that, to Take Care of Life.

My heart has been heavy. Will built the Sacred Fire January 1, very soon after we were called that our Brother was in ICU, life support. We had been Back East and learned very late. We heard about his passing later the next day. And on the fourth day, before 5 in the morning, I was awakened and compelled to check on the Fire. Much to my surprise its flames were dancing ready for prayer. It should have been asleep. So I did go out and prayed for my Brother, for his safe trip Home, for his wife, children, family and tribe. And there at the Fire, I felt answered, that he will always be there at Ceremony, at the Big Fire at the ranch, anytime our ancestor spirit came to be with us, he would be there with her. He was so excited he couldn't wait to fulfill that responsibility. That helps me today to settle my heart.

The Winnemem are a very tenacious tribe. They've got their priorities in order. Our leaders measure wealth quite differently than acquisition, influence and the amount of destructive power. They measure it by the load of responsibility they carry for the Earth, for the beautiful Sacred Places for whom they are still responsible to keep from destruction or dormancy, for the many ceremonies. To advocate, to stand beside, to TAKE CARE OF. That is what leadership is about. Our Chief will take care of the sick, the homeless, the troubled even if her plate is full, even if her back hurts, even if she is worn out. Even if she is busy, she will take time to mentor the next generation of leaders. Our Chief will take care of the people's grief even if she is grieving herself.

Acquiring, influencing, threatening, warring, playing politics, all of that anyone can do. Anyone can horde. Anyone can lie, and cover up deception. Anyone can blame others for one's mistakes. Anyone can make excuses. Anyone can bend the truth to slip and slide and get away from temporary consequences. Any naughty, immature bully can do that. Would you give fire power to a bully? (What's happening in Gaza, for example. Who is being pushed into the sea?) But only leaders born and trained and accepting the burden to lead will TAKE CARE OF LIFE.

When I share with people that the Winnemem leadership is not "a democracy" of popular vote and terms, but one of lineage, there is a pause. Is it a "free state?" Only when leaders personally profit from the status of leadership, I suppose, voting and term limitations are important. But for nations where the leaders must carry the heavy burden of taking care of their people and their lands and responsibility to the lands, and must also advocate in the arena of "weird politics," where leaders must sacrifice personal enjoyment and rest to heal the sick and take care of the weary, raise all the children, in such a case, the only one who will step up is the one designated by Spirit to lead, and they must carry that burden for their Life until the next one is ready. While I think about this, I also think of the Native man who married into this responsibility and took on the full load as Mark Franco does when he married Caleen knowing that she would be Chief one day. Tribal leadership is about sacrifice, deep commitment, more courage than one knows is possible, and the faith to step off the edge that one's path of life will still be right under one's feet. Did this young man know when he married what he was about to take on? Despite the answer, it is clear that Mark Franco took it on willingly and at great sacrifice.

I was close to Granny, who was leader before Caleen. She was in her 90's when she was sharing with me she wanted to live the rest of her life for herself. From the age of 8, she had to be there for her people and for the lands. But she was not able to let go of the burden, despite Caleen's willingness to lead until her body simply would not let her get up and stay up to do the work. I am blessed to have seen such leadership. And today, Cheney's pathetic, disgusting view of legality as Vice President of the land is so distant from my reality, I can just push it away and focus on Caleen -- how from this distance can I help my Chief and her husband, Head Man, to send this good Warrior onto the flowery path, and begin to get things together for Will and me to go down there in a couple of weekends to be with my people and Leaders.

To our Good Winnemem Warrior and Brother, thank you for standing with your people for your whole life at Kerekmet Village and for standing now along the Ancestor Spirits. Taking Care of Life does not end with the body's death if Leaders and Warriors choose.
"from Outside the Belly" was also known as "TBAsian" from 2008-2010. Thank you for reading.

from Outside the Monster's Belly

from Outside the Monster's Belly
. . . following Earth instead (Rakaia River, site of Salmon Ceremony, photo credit Ruth Koenig)

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Eugene, Oregon
I am a citizen of the Winnemem Wintu Tribe. I am a Nikkei descendant sansei (third generation);retired teacher, involved in the Winnemem tribal responsibility to Water, Salmon, and our belief that the Sacred is our Teacher. Working locally for human rights and supporting youth leadership.