Over the past few months, we’ve had the great privilege of working side-by-side with Isaac, a remarkable young leader and student currently reconnecting with his Indigenous heritage. He is at the forefront of his school's efforts to split firewood for the communities we serve on Pine Ridge, and has been a huge help in moving our programs forward as a Gen7 intern this year! 

Here are his reflections on service, reconnection, and leadership:

“My name is Isaac, I am currently a senior at the Rocky Mountain School of Expeditionary Learning or RMSEL for short, I am of Indigenous descent with no knowledge of what tribe I come from seeking to reconnect myself to the culture and people of Turtle Island. I came to hear about this cool nonprofit organization who worked with Indigenous peoples called The Tipi Raisers from my science teacher Eric Dinkel. He mentioned how RMSEL used to do some activities and services with Tipi Raisers but that connection was lost due to the pandemic. So Eric asked me if I could get that started back up, so I did.

I contacted Dave shortly after and asked him what we could do to help. Firewood is always in need on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, so we started there. It started off as a small operation behind the school playground. We had a few deliveries of uncut wood and we borrowed and bought some mauls and axes and a chainsaw. A few other high schoolers started cutting wood with me and Eric who have been very hardworking, seeking to help a community that they most likely wouldn’t have unless RMSEL and the Tipi Raisers gave the opportunity.

“I got into wood chopping cause I wanted to help a community I otherwise would never have interacted with and RMSEL afforded me that opportunity. I’ve gained a community of students I don’t normally interact with, and a continued desire to do more” -Senior Arwen Tompkins

I’ve gained a great many skills with the axes and mauls we have obtained and continue to get stronger and able to cut wood faster. Now the once small operation has grown to about 30 high schoolers and volunteering adults, we have produced about 20 cords of firewood  from chopping wood every Monday after school.  A group of wood chopping students have been able to go up to Pine Ridge and do service up there and be able to meet some of the people we’ve been helping since September. Both trips have been incredible eye opening experiences and hopefully the operation continues at RMSEL even after myself and other seniors graduate.

This whole thing is awesome, seeing what the works of few can grow into to help those in need and I am grateful to Dave and the Tipi Raisers for giving us the opportunity to help out.”

Thank you, Isaac, for all your hard work and leadership! You set a powerful example for other young people seeking to make a change in their communities.​

As we gear up for the Indigenous Wisdom Gathering & 4 Directions Ride this summer, we will be highlighting the Gen7 Youth Program through stories like Isaac's. Like all of our year-round activities, the Gathering is centered on youth and their role as the leaders and wisdom-keepers of the next generation.
We want to ensure that as many youth as possible, including Indigenous youth, can take part in the Gathering from June 28 - July 1 in Eagle, CO and all of our events throughout the year - but we can only do so with your help. 
​
Your donation today will help cover the cost of transport, lodging, and leadership opportunities for youth at the Indigenous Wisdom Gathering and beyond. We would be so grateful for your support!

Last week, we hosted a “Nagi Circle” in which tribal members, and those from communities living off the reservations, gathered at the request of an elder from Pine Ridge to honor and support a brave young Lakota boy.  As violence erupted in his community, this eight-year-old boy had the courage to shepherd the younger children into a bathroom, hide them in a bathtub and cover them with a blanket while chaos swirled all around them.

Guests and participants in the circle last week were invited to support the boy through words of encouragement, prayers and offers of tangible help.  The Tipi Raisers and tribal members who collaborated to support this youngster will remain steadfast in our commitment to standing with him – and with the others to whom we have pledged help. We will do so having learned the following lessons, after well over a decade of working with our partners and friends the Pine Ridge reservation:

1. Commitments made are commitments that must be upheld until the promise has been kept. It is too often easy to be emotionally moved by a story or a promise made in a moment, and then let the promise of that moment fade. For those of you who stood behind the young boy and promised support in whatever way you can; we will help you, however we can, to honor that promise.
2. Communities that suffer from generational trauma, profound poverty, grievous levels of violence and drug use, racial tension, etc. require intensive support, creative and thoughtful remedies, and a commitment to the long game.  Impatience and naïve hope in short term solutions not only lead to frustration, but also sometimes further harm the community, as support is provided, promised, and then suddenly or prematurely withdrawn.
3. The young people must be engaged, but they must also be carefully and conscientiously mentored and guided by elders who have walked the planet longer. There is an unfortunate refrain from some in the older generation that defers an unreasonable amount of responsibility on the younger generation, while intimating that it is now up to the younger generation to solve the legacy of over a century of harm and poor decisions. In some cases, that deferment feels like a reaction to the adults’ own overwhelm.
4. Finally, for those standing in the circle on that beautiful sunny afternoon, as well as those who have volunteered, supported and donated to The Tipi Raisers for years now: There are many powerful and effective ways to help. One person’s help is not necessarily like the other’s.  Some people have financial resources -- and money is needed to care for, transport, house, feed and otherwise take care of the youth we are helping. Some people have time and expertise – that time is needed to smoothly operate so many parts of our program.  Some people have connections to other communities and networks that ultimately are of service to those we help. Some people have wisdom, time to listen, ideas that might help, prayers to lead with, etc.  All those count.  

For the young boy who hid his siblings when violence threatened . . . who then looked around the circle and saw that there were so many with so much respect for what he did; who wondered if they would have had the strength and courage; and who promised to walk with him in support . . . . for that boy, and all the other youth we have promised to walk with, protect and bring resources to – we want them to know we heard them. Saw them and will continue to support them.

- Dave

In the 1991 film, Grand Canyon, starring Kevin Kline (who plays Mack), Danny Glover plays the role of Simon, an uncle, father, mentor, wizened cultural elder . . . and a tow truck driver who finds himself facing a gang leader with a gun while trying to do his job and tow Kevin Kline’s Lamborghini.  Kline’s character, an immigration lawyer, had left a late-night Laker’s game in his car and is detoured from his normal route by traffic and a series of missed turns.  As it happens, his car breaks down in a dangerous neighborhood patrolled by gangs.  Knowing that he is lost and in trouble, he calls for help from the towing company . . . and from Simon, whom he had never met previously.

Simon arrives after the gang has arrived, after Mack had been forced out of his car and just before life was becoming visibly precious and precarious.  Simon steps in between the gang leader and Mack . .  . 

Simon: I've gotta ask you for a favor. Let me go my way here. This truck's my responsibility, and now that the car's hooked up to it, it's my responsibility too.

Rocstar (the gang leader): Do you think I'm stupid? 

Simon: Look, I don't know nothing about you; you don't know nothing about me. I don't know if you're stupid, or some kind of genius. All I know is that I need to get out of here, and you got the gun. So I'm asking you, for the second time, let me go my way here.

Rocstar: I'm gonna grant you that favor, and I'm gonna expect you to remember it if we ever meet again. But tell me this, are you asking me as a sign of respect, or are you asking because I've got the gun?

Simon: Man, the world ain't supposed to work like this. I mean, maybe you don't know that yet. I'm supposed to be able to do my job without having to ask you if I can. That dude is supposed to be able to wait with his car without you ripping him off. Everything is supposed to be different than it is.

I think of Simon’s words often in my role.  I think of those words when the proud Lakota mother calls virtually every morning to see if she can earn money delivering firewood and food to her community.  I think of those words when our 71-year-old firekeeper struggles under the weight of raising six children with less than $750/month.  I think of those words when I hear the brothers share the stories of their sisters being groomed and bribed to leave their home and become prostitutes.  Of how the FBI is aware of the sex ring, but ineffective this time (and so many others) to stop it.  I think of it as I drive by the “Death to the Whiteman” painting in Whiteclay that welcomes, warns, and explains of the landscape ahead.

The world is not supposed to work like this.  Maybe none of us really know that anymore.  Families are supposed to be warm, fed, and safe.  Governments are supposed to be at least moderately able to ensure those same conditions.  And to work with other entities responsible for the health and safety of the people they serve.  In the midst of plenty, there should be (is) enough to feed, warm and keep safe our neighbors and relatives.

Tragically, that is not the way the reservations are though.  I am struck sometimes by how – despite our valiant army of volunteers; and intensely proud, hardworking tribal allies; and generous donors; and well-intentioned efforts – I am struck by how difficult it is to provide enough to ease the suffering.  

Last year, we had several of our long time Lakota friends from Pine Ridge join us on the Hopi and Diné reservations to volunteer rebuilding homes, cutting, and stacking firewood, etc.  On one of the days, a group took a day off from the work to travel for the first time to the Grand Canyon – from South Dakota to one of the seven natural wonders of the world.  That evening, in the circle as we processed our day, one of the Lakota men remarked how stunning the experience of standing on the south rim was . . . and how someday he hoped to bring youth from his reservation down to see what he saw and to experience what he experienced . .  .   He was inspired to someday release red balloons from the rim with his young people who are caught in a world that doesn’t have to be . . . and must change.

In the movie, Simon asks Mack:

You ever been to the Grand Canyon? It's pretty, but that's not the thing of it. You can sit on the edge of that big ol' thing and those rocks... the cliffs and rocks are so old... it took so long for that thing to get like that... and it ain't done either! It happens right there while you’re watching it. Its happening right now as we are sitting here in this ugly town. When you sit on the edge of that thing, you realize that our time here means diddly to those rocks. Just a split second we have been here, the whole lot of us. That's a piece of time so small to even get a name. Those rocks are laughing at me right now, me and my worries... Yeah, it’s real humorous, that Grand Canyon. 

And so, I take comfort in knowing that Simon and the rocks are right. Change is happening. Good and magnificent changes. For all of you who work alongside us in this slow, sometimes painful and frustrating, often tragic and but ultimately beautiful work, I share my heartfelt gratitude.

Thank you. Wopila.  Askwali.  Kwakwhay.  Ahéhee'.

- Dave

Last Friday night, the tipi was packed with the youth of the Seventh Generation.​

Lit up by campfire, dozens of young people sat together as they listened to the wise words of Lakota elder and founding Tipi Raisers board member Ta Oye Wakan Wiŋ (Her Words Are Sacred Woman). People of all ages and backgrounds repeated the sacred words Themíčʼiȟila, and Wakan Tanka. The sparks from the fire seemed to carry these words up and out into the sky.

One can imagine similar scenes hundreds - perhaps thousands - of years ago, each time Lakota elders would gather with the next generation in a talking circle, sharing the vital wisdom that will carry them towards a balanced relationship with the land, and with one another. This age-old tradition seemed alive and well as we sat in the tipi together for the January Nagi Circle Gathering.
And one does not have to look far to see the way youth continue, in the modern day, to bring communities into balance through connection and service:

Half a dozen Lakota youth worked side-by-side with students from the Rocky Mountain School of Expeditionary Learning (RMSEL) as part of Friday's gathering to help prepare and transport firewood, blankets, space heaters, and needed supplies for families across the reservation.

Check out the photo below of RMSEL students after a long day of work at our firewood distribution site on Pine Ridge, where they spent time with local elder, Tokala, and Keeper of the Firewood, Nobby Bell!

“Mommy? This isn’t just a normal night. This is the specialest night. I’ve been waiting for this night for a long, long time.”​

These are the words a Lakota wakanyeja (sacred little one) shared with her mother this past Friday following a powerful evening of reconciliation at our Lafayette, CO hub.

By chance or by Spiritual appointment, the visit of our dear friend Tom Hollow Horn for our monthly Nagi Circle Gathering coincided with the arrival of a new friend to our community - one with an ancestral connection that led him our way.

You see, Tom’s great-great grandfather Toka Kokipapi (Enemy Fears Him) was a survivor of the Wounded Knee Massacre of 1890, in which 300 unarmed Lakota men, women, and children were killed by the US Army’s 7th Cavalry. With three bullets lodged in his body and the image of gunned-down family members still burning in his mind, Toka Kokipapi fled to a nearby canyon, and lived to pass down the harrowing story to the generations that succeeded him.

And as fate or Spirit would have it, Brad, the new friend who reached out to join us for Friday’s Gathering, is descended from an ancestor who stood on the other side of the cavalry’s Hotchkiss guns on that bitterly cold day in 1890: Colonel James Forsyth.

Tom has heard family stories of Wounded Knee since his childhood, and lives each day above the very ground upon which his ancestors were slain. For him, December 29th, 1890 is a living reality. The trauma and discord sown by the massacre continue to underpin daily life in his community on the Pine Ridge Reservation.

Brad has spent years learning about his own familial connection to Wounded Knee. In a spirit of prayer, reconciliation, and truth, he has dedicated himself to the redress of his ancestor’s crimes, and has made great efforts to be in relationship with Lakota tribal members and spiritual leaders.

And so, as these two fated friends came face-to-face on Friday, with so much going on under the surface of their DNA, their hearts, their spirits - reconciliation began to organically take shape.

“It’s among our ancestors now, brother,” Tom said as he softly smiled and clasped Brad’s hand.

“Wašté yelo.” Brad replied, before bringing his new brother into an embrace.

Later that evening, Brad and Tom continued down the road of reconciliation. There, in the tipi, they shared their stories with one another and with the group gathered before them. Tom passed around pictures of his ancestors who survived the massacre. Brad spoke on the return of items his ancestor’s troops had taken from the site.

Tears flowing. Deep breaths taken. Something heavy but warm in the air around us. Spirit.

Two brothers, one Lakota and one not, held one another with a tenderness and kindness that may never have seemed possible in the days following the 1890 slaughter.

On the prayers uttered and dialogue had, Tom later shared: "Our spirits became alive with one another, made a special prayer for the Tokata Wakanyeja (Future Sacred Children), and reflected on the past with a warm heart - Ihanni wokiksuye canté wašté."

As I continue to reflect on Friday's events, I find myself equally moved by the healing that took place and haunted by the questions: How late is too late? Is it ever too late?​

For some, it is. For 300 Lakota men, women and children at Wounded Knee, it is. For thousands in Palestine and in Israel, it is. But for those who remain, for our humanity, for our shared future, for the inescapable fact that we can and must live together, perhaps it is not too late. And I think, given love, honesty, self-reflection, and no small amount of courage, we will soon find that there is a better way forward - one that we can walk together. I have to believe this is true.

Tom and Brad - kolas (friends, brothers) - proved that to us on Friday night.

Mitakuye Oyasin.

- Mackenzie

​This story is the fourth and final installment of Our Mission in Action series. In this closer look at the work of alleviating poverty, our executive director reflects on the root causes of poverty and the reality of the trauma, lack of access, and violence it begets.

“Poverty is not an accident.  Like slavery, it is man made and can be removed by the actions of human beings.” - Nelson Mandela

The Native American reservation system in the United States is also not an accident.  It was a system set up to oppress.  To eliminate.  It might also have partially been the ignorance of some governing in a rush to step aside a problem.  Or a revengeful, greedy action and reaction.  Clearly, the system is man made, though.  It could be removed or modified by kinder, more compassionate human beings.

And if there were any questioning Gandhi’s belief that “poverty is the worst form of violence,” --  one need only to imagine the violence seen by a child in the same room as a fist coming crashing down nearby or upon as a response to the stress of hunger and the lack of ability to provide, as happened in the reservation town of Wamblee this month.  Or the violence of a bullet crashing into the heart of a child from a drive by in the reservation town of Oglala last year.  Or the violence driving the youth to suicide as a reasonable alternative to that violence on most of the 326 Federally recognized reservations in the United States over the past century.  Mandela is right in maintaining that those happenings are both accidental and removable.

And so, it is true that the violence and trauma on the reservations started as the vengeful, racist, and arguably evil efforts by a conquering government over a century ago.   And it is also true, that in the ensuing century, that violence has turned in on itself and has become set and hardened into systemic and generational patterns that spare virtually no one and then again begets its own violence. For those living within, as well as those seeking to provide comfort and support from the outside, efforts can feel futile and, in fact, the violence and trauma often even lashes back out to protect itself from relief and change.  

“Overcoming poverty is not a gesture of charity.  It is an act of justice.  It is the protection of a fundamental human right, the right to dignity and a decent life.” - Nelson Mandela

Mandela is correct, I believe, when he maintains that it is not futile to push back and protect against what is – and that the efforts to assist and provide relief must emanate from places other than charity and indeed guilt.  Rather, that help must be sourced from a fundamental desire to protect and make right and/or maybe even from a place of outrage at the injustice and incompetence of those with the authority, resources, and ability to make change, but choose not to.  Those include Federal, State and Tribal governments.  The offers to help must be carried and shielded with strength and persistence . . .  and necessarily with compassion and not with pity.

For over a decade, we have met many of you willing to push back against the systemic causes of Native American reservation poverty, trauma, and violence.  And we want you to know that, while our moral mandate is to respond to the daily and desperate calls for food, firewood, water, assistance with paying for electricity, the calls for employment and all the other pleas for basic needs, we are simultaneously looking at the larger, systemic causes that lie beneath the surface. And, when opportunities arise, we stand with our Native relatives to push back against the corruption, racism, hatred, ignorance, lack of opportunity and education, abuse and a generational trauma that have stubbornly taken root, but – we believe – will eventually yield to the better nature of humanity.  

And we stand in continuous gratitude to all of you who help us in this effort.

Sincerely,

Dave

​Alleviating Poverty, Reconciliation, Indigenous Wisdom Gen7 Youth are the guiding pillars which integrate across all our activities. Thanks for following along over the past four weeks as we explored each of those pillars in action!

Whether we're on a volunteer service trip in one of the Native communities we serve, closing out a youth workday at our Lafayette Hub, or gathering at camp following a 4 Directions Ride, a day with the Tipi Raisers is almost always punctuated with a call to "Circle Up!"


What happens when we "circle up," you may ask?


Inspired by the Indigenous tradition of the Talking Circle, each volunteer, youth, and community member gathers into an unbroken circle - no one in front of or behind another - and shares their truth, one person at a time.


As the sharing goes around, this can often look like a recap of the workday. Many times, it takes the form of a raw and real reflection on race relations, on trauma, on the prejudice that divides so many communities and the humanity that unites us all.
Here are some of the transformative moments of reconciliation we've witnessed in the Circle over the years:​

•  A volunteer from the University of Georgia coming to understand that historical wrongs committed against Indigenous communities by people who looked like her are still echoing into the present, and that she must find her unique role in healing this history
• A young Lakota woman from Pine Ridge, face-to-face with a white youth from Colorado Young Leaders, realizing that she was carrying prejudice towards white people
• Waylon Belt, a community member living on Pine Ridge, placing Colorado volunteer Joe Loetscher at the opposite side of the Circle to demonstrate the chasm he felt between himself and the white world - a potent visual lesson on the legacy of a fraught history and a divided present
• Elders and youth, both Native and non-Native, admitting to projections such as "I thought the elders would look down on us and see us as a nuisance," and "I assumed the young people would be disrespectful and unwilling to help," then being joyfully proven wrong over the course of side-by-side work and play

Our Executive Director often reminds us: "There is so much going on under the surface of the circle."

When a young person, an elder, a non-Native volunteer, or a Native community member step into courage and share what is true for them under the surface of it all - something magical happens. Barriers fall down; assumptions and stereotypes are admitted, explored, and dismantled. Sometimes tensions rise. Often, tears are shed. It's messy, it's hard, it's beautiful - and it is necessary if we are to move forward together towards reconciliation.​

In friendship,

The Tipi Raisers Team

You may have seen pictures of Bison on our Facebook, Instagram, or email newsletters over the past few months and wondered: “Bison?? Have the Tipi Raisers gotten into ranching?!”​

While we’d love to spend our days herding bison on the range, what we actually do with them is even more fulfilling and deeply tied to our mission!

For several years, we have partnered with Hester’s Buffalo Meat Company in Kremmling, CO to provide high-quality, culturally-relevant sustenance to the Lakota families we serve. A package of Hester’s Buffalo Meat accompanies every monthly delivery of food to each of the Pine Ridge families with whom we work.
But our work with the Buffalo Nation goes beyond efforts to address food insecurity on Pine Ridge - earlier this year, a partnership emerged between The Tipi Raisers Gen7 Youth Program and the Colorado State University Agricultural Extension.

Thanks to the folks at CSU, several Native and non-Native youth - as well as adult community members from the Oglala Lakota & Diné nations - have been able to work face-to-face with the bison that comprise the Laramie Foothills Conservation Herd in various capacities, and to earn a wage as they do so. Throughout the spring, Pine Ridge youth were able to learn from the veterinarian team at CSU about safely catching, vaccinating, blood testing and tagging bison. See footage from one of these “Buffalo Days” here!

Perhaps the most powerful development in this burgeoning partnership was the transport of five buffalo donated by the Laramie Foothills Conservation Herd to the Knife Chief Buffalo Nation, a Lakota-led herd on Pine Ridge that supports food sovereignty and cultural preservation efforts on the Oglala Lakota Nation.

On one beautiful morning in April, five sacred animals were loaded into our trailers with the help of youth and friends from Pine Ridge, the Navajo Nation, and Colorado. A prayerful and steady five-hour journey north culminated with the return of these powerful beings to their ancestral lands on the grasslands of what is now Porcupine, SD. The image of these sacred four-legged relatives breathing life into the soil upon which their predecessors once roamed is something that will stay etched on our collective memory forever.

As is the case with all that we do, youth are the life force behind the healing, learning, and connection which drive our bison initiatives. Trayton, one of the young people from Pine Ridge who joined us at CSU for a “Buffalo Day,” said the opportunity to work with animals so sacred to his Lakota culture was “a gift,” stating: “I can really feel the buffalo’s energy - it’s good energy. It was a great experience.”

We look forward to more "Buffalo Days" ahead and more opportunities to work with and learn from the Gen7 youth who bring our mission to life, in all that we do!

Wopila,

Mackenzie