I don't know that I have any favorites but there are some women and men who occupy a place in my understanding of the development of the culture of America. I particularly think about our first Minnesotans who seem to have to take last place in our considerations. Yet where I live they greatly influence history and evidence of them is all around.
I have a story about this native Dakota woman, born on the Yankton, SD reservation in 1876, and how the story of her life and achievements were secretly offered to me by an elder in the tribe in the Black Hills of South Dakota when I was eight years old. I carried this gift for many decades before I even knew what I had been given.
I was all excited to travel to where the Indians lived and wanted to know all about them. To appreciate my story it's necessary to remember that we practiced different, some would say ignorant and offensive, ideas and attitudes about culture at that time.
It was common for some tribe members to frequent the tourist towns and make a humble living dressing and acting as the tourists expected to see as part of their introduction to the west. Little did we know some were doing more than that. They were planting seeds of their, as yet, untold story. And I was a beneficiary of one of those educators.
In the little town of Keystone stood an old man dressed in full chieftain regalia and I desperately wanted my picture taken with him. My parents asked and it was done.
After the picture was taken he graciously made some conversation with me and I asked him if there were any way he could make me an honorary member of his tribe. He got out a small head-dress, a porcupine quill and bone breast plate and a
Pipestone peace pipe and put them on me, said a few works in Dakota with appropriate gestures and declared that my Dakota name was Zitkala Waste. He told me it meant Good Bird.
I never forgot that and the sense of connectedness it gave me with our indigenous settlers.
One day a few years ago I started to think about his clever way of connecting in light of all the underlying thoughts and feelings he must have had and of all the conflict and anger which has since been evident. Maybe he was trying to tell me something?
So I started to search the net. Here in MN a tremendous about of work has been done to preserve the Dakota language and that was a great help Then I found her - Zitkala Sa. Red Bird
There was her story and a picture and she must have been a contemporary for part of his life. A young, Dakota girl with intelligence and creativity recognized by educators from the East who took her to Indiana and provided her with the tools and voice she needed to pursue her later work.
I don't know. A mystery. Was it a message to me to learn and understand more. Or was it just improvising off the top of his head? I like to think, years after he was gone, I finally got his message, complete with its sorrows and joys.
https://wams.nyhistory.org/modernizi...sm/zitkala-sa/