Taking care of our own.....

I get sick of American Indian women being portrayed this way. Or like this.

Always a scantily clad, shoulder-less, buckskin dress with a wolf. WTF is up with that??? Maybe some of these young girls now like to go around, dressed with thier ass cheeks hanging out and tiny tight shirts because it makes them feel good about themselves, but that is not what we were ever about.

We were always about family, about taking care of our own.

There are still so many Lakota women that are about family, many American Indian women about family.

Sometimes things get in the way, things happen to a young woman along the way to make her forget that. I was a horrible mother for awhile. I thought I was ok, but delving in my alcoholism hurt my children and made me miss precious time with them. I never wanted them to be "survivors" of my sickness, but that is what happened.

I met so many girls along the way, young girls that I talked to and listened to their stories. I listened. And they told me, why they turned to alcoholism, why they turned to drugs, why they became who they never thought they would be a few years earlier when they were dreaming of happily ever after. All of it had to do with some sort of abuse. In turn, it led them to abuse themselves. I am still connected with many of them to this day, I see them doing te same things they did to get them where they were when I met them, and some of them are trying hard to change their lives in a world that don't give a shit. I think it hurts so much because they are the same ages or almost same ages as my oldest kids.

It hurts my heart to look at a young girl, young mother with hopelessness. I wish the best for you, I think to myself, I wish you would see the light, I wish you would look at that baby and see the precious life you gave.

But I don't, I remain silent and remain a friend and let them know when they need to talk, I am there, just as I was there in the cell block we walked laps around when they told me their stories.
I pray for these young girls every day and their children, just as I am sure, someone must have prayed for me.

I also met many women older than me, who listened to my story. Women who in their own little ways, listened, said something to me that made sense, something that I still carry in my heart to become who I was meant to be.

See us Indian women can endure because of family. That is what keeps us going. Our life source. That is our reason for being on this precious Mother Earth, for our family, our people, and our way of life.

And so is the story of Moving Robe, Tashina Mani, The Hunkpapa Lakota that fought in the Battle of Greasy Grass, or as the Government likes to call it, The Massacre at Little Big Horn. Because we all know if the government does it, it is a battle or a victory, when it is against them it is a massacre.
Moving Robe's brother was killed and she took his lance and went into battle to avenge his death, she is rumored to have secured a revolver and has two confirmed kills. She is also rumored to have killed Custer, but that is not confirmed as many have claimed that.
That is a woman warrior. Taking care of your own, wanting to go to war for your family. No different than anyone who signed into the armed services after 9/11.

I wished I could make these young girls see that, life is so precious. I wished I could show them they are strong, beautiful, young, women-mothers, that don't need men to treat them bad to be someone. I wished I could make them see that. I had to find out the hard way....but I thank god I did.

We are Indian women, we take care of our own. I will be there to listen when and if they need me.

This is the kind of picture I like.

Moving Robe, as a younger woman.

And Moving Robe as an Elder.

"A nation is not defeated until the hearts of it's women lie on the ground, then it is done. No matter how strong it's men or how numerous it's weapons.". Cheyenne Proverb