Standing in at Standing Rock

One of the difficulties of being at Standing Rock is maintaining balance when dealing with all the misinformation, misinterpretation and missteps encountered while making a place in that very organic, organized chaos of a community of prayer and resistance, natives and non-natives, ages, families, working groups. It was impossible for me personally to be unaffected by almost everything I saw and heard. This microcosm of our world and of the native/non-native intersection was a powerful reminder to me, as an anglo, of what we miss or lack in our culture of exclusivity, consumerism, limited vision and disconnection from Mother Earth. I again felt the pang of envy for the songs I heard from native women or men as they sang to their Mother. Where are our songs for the water, the air, for the next generations? I went to the river and made up my own.

Overview of Oceti Sakowin with police presence on the ridgetop.

I had the privilege of spending five days at the camp between November 21st and 26th , observing, volunteering, assisting my hostess with bringing over water and tending the fire. Time slows down at the camp. The day is measured by the rising sun and the call of the drums and voices to get up and join in the prayers. Then the daily chores of camping out, offering assistance where needed and doing a lot of walking...from campsite to water, from campsite to portapotty, to the kitchen for food, to meet up at the community center or to what is commonly called Facebook hill or media hill, where the press corps hang out and everyone who needs to connect with the outside world heads to post their emails or make phone calls. It's a lot of walking. But feet allow you to connect with the Earth and with the others at camp.
And my meetings with folks here were always surprising and enlightening. One way or another. Lots of young people here and I took advantage of sitting around Sacred Fire with some of them to hear their experiences. There are seven Sacred Fires tended constantly; anyone can add wood to the firepit and be warmed by its heat. I was warmed by conversations as well.
Everyone want to know: "What's it like at Standing Rock? Was it safe? What about the police?"
First, I didn't encounter any direct violence but I did observe the aftermath of traumatic stress with several people who were in the event on Sunday and that gave me pause. Second, as a woman, I felt more respected and safe at Standing Rock than I do in many places. Women are greatly respected among Plains people and the Lakota, Dakota, Nakota. It was very sweet to be addressed as "auntie" or "grandmother" and offered help from the youth. Meals are served in this order: women with children, other women, then elder men and youth.

My journey to North Dakota along the pipeline route  has come to a close. At least the driving part is done. Coming to terms both internally, politically, emotionally will not be easy. Leaving the camp and my companion/sistar/warrior woman, Dell Hambleton, on Saturday morning was very hard. I took time to stand by the Cannonball River, pour out the blessed water I brought from the Oconaluftee River within the Qualla Boundary, Eastern Band of the Cherokee Nation. My spiritual support sisters and I hiked to a point where we could collect the running water in September, add our prayers for peace and reconciliation and awakening that I carried with me across the country.

With the now empty bottle, I scooped up some of the Cannonball River and her energy and prayers to take back with me. But when I arrived, first at the Ft. Yates burial site and then at the monument to Sitting Bull down the road, I was called to take the water with me as I looked out over the Missouri River. I imagined how he himself had plied these rivers, drunk from its waters and gazed upon the flowing grasslands that once teamed with buffalo and elk. I knelt facing the River and poured the Cannonball River water into the soil around his monument. I want to believe his spirit enjoyed the drink. Then it was time to face south east and journey home. Here is a video from his great granddaughter. 

I can't explain Standing Rock to you in a few blog posts. I may never be able to completely explain it to myself. Perhaps the following essay can help.

I have more photos and reflections in preparation. This journey isn't over.  It has simply taken a rest. Please stay connected.

Updated: Day 6 now includes the link to the interview at KHOI. Worth a listen, not just for me but several other voices on the issues surrounding the DAPL.