Me and my three cute kids at Crazy Horse
Hoop dancing. First time I ever saw it!
An amazing head piece for a male chicken dancer
Being the white girl asking for a picture with natives in full burgalia
This may possibly be a grassdance. I can't remember. Pow Wow in SD
Last night I went up to Crazy Horse with my sister and her kids. Years ago, I was told that every night the Lakota people come and do traditional native dancing and I attended. I was inspired and ah struck at the beauty of the dances set with such a serene background as Crazy Horse; a momunment dedicated to their culture and the warriors that have fallen for their people. I have since attended a couple more time. So, yesterday, I thought it would be fun to take my sister. I have free admittance to Crazy Horse since I am from Custer so I can go whenever I want. Unfortnately, they started to dance early so we only caught a couple dances but it was awesome. I finally got to see traditional hoop dancing. My favorite is chicken dancing or men's fancy dance but those aren't often seen up there. So, I was excited to finally get to see a new form of dancing.
Never did I think I would be so passionate about the native people. When I started working in South Dakota, I worked with many natives but did not value their culture until I moved to work with the boys. The things I was introduced to, observed,and saw a need for was quite eye opening to me. Before working in SD the only exposure I had to a people of such a unique culture was driving through the Harden Reservation in MT. Now, I often use a couple lakota words that the boys taught me, I say things like, "are you from the rez?" instaed of "reservation" and I know that they refer to themselves as "Natives" and not Indians. Because of my work with this population, they are often surprised to see a white girl talk knowledgably about smoke sessions, smudging, and pow wows while throwing out some of the native slang that seems to be a small part of me after embracing their people.
Point being... these people are in such need of help. I know, I've heard it all. The government enables them with their monthly checks, they need to help themselves first, or they actively discriminate against us to begin with. And I'm not saying I disagree but Bottom Line: the poorest county in our nation resides right outside our own Rapid City, SD; Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. Death occurs on a regular basis due to alcoholism, suicide, child starvation, and gang fights. Packs of wild dogs roam the land killing smaller dogs and eating their carcuses. Heat and clean water are not always just a given. There are over 100 known gangs on this single reservation alone. So regardless of how they got to such a horrible place, they ARE there and desperately grasping onto anything that gives them a sence of being in light of such a lost culture, values, and traditions unknown to many of their youth. I know and I get it, but when you see those Lakota volunteers dancing at crazy horse or a grandpa or auntie (yes, that's what they call their aunts. NEVER AUNT but auntie) teaching a young one how to speak Lakota or how to take pride in the Ogalala Nation, it is hard, at least for me, to not feel a great sense or respect for a people torn to their core right now. To watch dancers keep their culture, traditions, and their ways alive under a backdrop like crazy horse, a person would be a fool to not see the immense depth and sincerety the elders of their nation are trying so desperately to keep alive; hold onto and transfer into their youth. If ever given the chance, take an evening to visit Crazy Horse; see the culture, dancing, nightly light show, and realize that, at that time, you stand in the heart of a people and time unlike any other.
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