South Dakota

Friends. I know it's been a while since I last posted about the big trip. It's been almost a year since I flew to LA and then drove back cross country. I stayed in a tent in 14 degree weather in Zion National Park. I visited Las Vegas. I ended up adding 8 states to my list of states that I have visited. And it sparked something in me that I can't ignore. I want to travel. I want to experience different cultures. Meet new people. See how they live. What obstacles they face. What makes them happy. How they thrive. I haven't experienced that in a very long time. I got pigeonholed into living a very small life. But not any more. Now I see the value in being me and doing the things that bring me joy. So I want to share one of the things that has really stuck with me and is helping shape my future.

Pine Ridge Indian Reservation

I read the book Where White Men Fear to Tread by Russell Means many years ago and it really stuck with me. He grew up on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation and was an activist for the Native people. He really opened my eyes to the plight of not only native Americans from the past, but also the present. I've always been aware of what the indigenous population has been through because I have that heritage in my ancestry. But I didn't know what it was like in modern times. Until I read his book. Since then I've been aware, at least on the periphery. So when I had the chance to drive through South Dakota, I knew I needed to visit the reservation. It is the poorest reservation in our country. But friends, it is also one of the most beautiful. If you recall from my last post, once you enter the reservation land, the badlands literally pop up from nowhere. Right on the side of the road. You also have the grasslands, prairie. It's so beautiful. The closer we got to Pine Ridge, the more populated it became and the more it looked like the typical reservation that you see on TV and in movies.

We visited one of the schools that you can imagine the history of, especially if you watch the Yellowstone spinoff 1923. These schools were meant to 'reform' native children. They were not places of enjoyment. But I needed to visit it anyway. I needed to see it. They've changed a lot in the past few years. They are no longer places of abuse. Or at least they're not supposed to be. But if you read the news, you'll see that they are still sometimes corrupt. I was considering applying to one in Wyoming until I did my research. Needless to say, I did not apply due to the recent expulsion of most of the board and some teachers from that particular school.

Anyway, back to the Pine Ridge Reservation. We visited the Catholic school there. I learned a lot from a former student turned employee. She gave us a tour of the campus and gave us some of the history and how they are embracing the native population and the talented makers residing on the reservation. It was very interesting and very informative. I learned how they are using local resources and teaching the students about growing their own food. They even had chickens! And the containers that were converted into the chicken coop and garden storage were designed by graffiti artists. I learned a lot about their school schedule (they have Fridays off). They have buses that pick up students but it can take an hour and a half for those students to get to school.

After leaving the school (and after visiting the museum and making some purchases) we traveled to Wounded Knee. Wow. What a powerful place to visit. There is, obviously, so much history there. The mass grave for all the men, women, and children who were slaughtered at Wounded Knee. Their ancestors can be buried on site so you see a lot of other graves. We were there in November so there weren't many people around. There were some indigenous makers who were peddling their wares. I purchased a homemade dream catcher. Needless to say, I left part of my heart at Wounded Knee too.

We continued our journey, after paying our respects, and drove back north through the reservation onto the Badlands National Park. Kind of a juxtaposition, huh? From Rushmore, which was forcibly taken from the Native people, to the reservation, back to a government owned property. It was all so beautiful and powerful and moving. It gives me spark to research my native ancestry and to dig deep into that part of me. How can I get involved? How can I continue to bring light to the needs of the native population.

I recently started watching a documentary on missing and/or murdered native women in Montana on the Northern Cheyenne and Crow reservations (Murdered and Missing in Montana). If you listen to Crime Junkie, you will have heard one of the cases broken down on that podcast. I find it very interesting that native girls and women are one of the largest targets of human trafficking in the United States. Read that again. They are the largest targets for human trafficking in the US.

The Badlands

Moving away from the reservation, we entered the Badlands National Park. It's hard to describe. It's amazing and beautiful and each turn just brought a different and better view. I need to get back to South Dakota. It's not a very culturally diverse area. You are either white or Native. That's pretty much what we saw outside of Rushmore. But there is so much to do and see there. So much history. I missed Custer State Park, Laura Ingalls Wilder's home, and the largest cast iron skillet. All worth traveling back for.

We'll stop here for now. This has given me inspiration to take a harder look at things that are important to me and how I can be a change maker. Have you ever visited some place that makes you feel like this?

'til next time
-k
xoxo