After an usually dry summer in Olympia, Washington, a welcoming rain greeted Yakama Nation elder Levina Wilkins, Hereditary Chief of the Lummi Nation Tsi’li’xw (Bill James), and 35 people who came from Oregon, California, and Washington state to gather around a consecrated fire. The group listened as Levina and Bill shared stories of their upbringing, the elders that cared for and guided them, and the traditions that they pass on to young people today.
The Voices of Wisdom event at the beautiful Blue Deer Center was a powerful experience and many of us who attended feel we grew significantly from participating in it. Gail Whitlow, a Mohawk Elder, presented first, explaining that for centuries, prior to the white people’s arrival, her Mohawk ancestors had used this land for sacred gatherings.
Ancestral wisdom, held by Indigenous elders the world over, is the knowledge gained and kept for centuries by the Indigenous Peoples of the world. Not only does it hold the key to our survival, but it also teaches us how to live in right and balanced relationship with everything and everyone around us.
World Indigenous Peoples’ Day (August 9), which commemorates the tenth anniversary of the signing of the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, is bittersweet this year. While much progress has been made in the last decade, there is much work to be done to honor Indigenous communities and their world views.
A good part of the grant received from Sacred Fire Foundation allowed the Nii Juinti school to buy all the necessary instruments and pay the workforce for cleaning, preparing and planting a wide variety of medicine plants typically utilized in the Shipibo culture by shamans.
The Yumari Project, which is coordinated by Tarahumara shaman and artist, Makawi, has evolved into a more comprehensive program for cultural awakening in the community of Mogotavo. The Tarahumara word for cultural education is busuréliame, which signifies to awake the conscience of the pueblo to universal knowledge.
I attended the Voices of Wisdom event, held in near Toronto, Ontario, Canada on September 24 and 25, 2016. The event featured the elders Kahontakwas Diane Longboat, Mohawk elder, and Wanbdi Wakita, a Dakota elder. Both of these elders are spiritual leaders in their ancestral communities, and leaders in their professions in the greater community.
Listening to Kahontakwas, Diane Longboat, and Taoyewakanwi (Her Ways Are Sacred), Charlene O’Rourke, at the Voices of Wisdom at the Blue Deer Center June 11-12 was like a waking dream for me.
“The elders used to call Myntdu River their mother,” shares H. H. Mohrmen, a Jaintia Unitarian minister and an environmentalist from Meghalaya. Mohrmen is in a jeep with journalists, who are traveling to cover a unique riverine festival that is hosted by elders from communities downstream of Myntdu. The drive on winding roads in the West Jaintia Hills passes by tall areca nut trees wrapped in pepper vines. Below, a rust-hued riverbank glistens in the sun.
Voices of Wisdom, in Asheville NC, completed one circle and initiated another. Before I knew anything about the Sacred Fire Community or Foundation, I knew Wanbdi Wakita. The circle began about 15 years ago, in the heat of Wanbdi’s Purification Ceremony, where I prayed to my Ancestors to help guide me on my journey.
Wanbdi Wakita, whose name translates into English as Looking Eagle, was born at home with the help of a midwife on a breezy day in October in the community of Sioux Valley Dakota Nation. It was 1940. Overseas the world was at war, but a different kind of struggle was taking place at home.
The Indigenous peoples of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Martha in Colombia have a mission of utmost importance: to bring healing and balance to the earth for the benefit of all of humanity through their spiritual work of offerings and ceremony. They consider their land to be the heart of the world, contained by an invisible “Black Line.”
The Maasai youth, whose people reside and travel along the border between Kenya and Tanzania, sit in the crosshairs of modernization. Like many indigenous youth they face immense pressure by outside forces attempting to instill in them that their ways are backwards, irrelevant and something for which they should be ashamed.
Dormant for 150 years, a lost Indigenous language is brought back to life by a Native woman, setting into motion a cultural revitalization process.