My Love For Indigenous People

So many of us were horrified by the events in Washington last weekend, with a mob of racist Catholic School boys jeering at a Native elder, and also catcalling young women, calling them horrible things. I don’t need to go into it further, other than to say how disappointing it was to have the parents of one of the boys hire a huge PR firm, Runswitch, owned by a former Karl Rove/Mitch McConnel aide, and commence a media bombardment, shifting all responsibility away from what was clearly a pack of animals. People excusing this behavior because of age, have no understanding of what a Conduct Disorder is. It is the early version of Antisocial Personality Disorder, which is what Trump has been diagnosed with, by many. Unfortunately, there is no cure for it, as it is not biochemical. No, they will not learn from this. No, this is not a teachable moment for them. They are vicious, entitled little creeps, who will grow up into vicious entitled big creeps.

My spiritual journey has been deeply inspired  by Native people. As an Empath, I’ve always had a connection to Earth Mother, and all living things, the Stone People, the Standing People, the Winged Ones, the Four Leggeds. Since childhood, I could communicate with all of them. In my late 30’s, I felt guided to start a drumming circle for women. I did that monthly, for about 13 years. We took donations every month, and sent the money, as well as blankets and food, to the Pine Ridge and Rosebud reservations in the Dakotas, where elders and children were freezing to death. At some point, I had heard about a Seneca elder, Grandmother Twylah Nitsch, the head of the Wolf Clan Teaching Lodge. She lived on a reservation in Buffalo, NY. I contacted her assistant, and made arrangements to drive up to Buffalo to attend a teaching circle. Grandmother allowed us to stay in her home for three days. Grandmother was small, but fierce. She tolerated no disrespect. If she knew you were sincere, and coming from your heart, she would take you under her wing. Her generosity of spirit was incredible. She offered to work with me in the Dreamtime. In fact, I am writing this blog at her direction, since she has continued to work with me after her death. She was a force of nature. She had a white wolf, named Luna, who lived in the house with her. Luna had fleas. I returned home covered in flea bites.

I’ve had the privilege to work with a number of elders from different tribes. None of them cared at all that I was an Anglo. They lived from love and respect for all. No racism, no discrimination. All they cared about was your capacity to love. It was always stunning to me, that people who had been the victims of the largest genocide in human history, could be so compassionate to everyone. No suspicion, no bitterness. I was embraced and taught. It was a stark contrast to my evangelical Christian family, where hell and eternal damnation were the threats of not conforming with their beliefs.

I was given my name by a Lakota Holy Man, a great honor for me. I immediately had my name legally changed. Oh, boy. Try getting a name like THAT through the courts. That was fun. Not. All of the elders were kind, patient, and wise. Again, it was a privilege to work with them, and at times, to be allowed to do healing work on them if they needed it. It would never occur to me to charge an elder for anything, ever. All that I am is theirs.

I’m very aware that there is cultural appropriation that is rampant, especially now with the New Age Movement. I refuse to be a part of that. So much has been stolen from Native people, their land, their way of life, forced onto reservations that are wastelands. The idea of anything else being taken from them sickens me. Seeing that elder, a carrier of the Sacred Pipe, as he was drumming and asking Spirit for guidance and protection for all, was absolutely devastating for me. Seeing him weeping, afterwards, was unreal.

Native people have had every single treaty made with the government, violated. Not one was honored. They have no big P.R. firm to represent them. No politicians stand for them. Once again, we watch as history is rewritten to protect the atrocities of white men against POC, women, and Native people. I am writing this to bear witness to the truth about the ongoing racism and violence perpetrated by white men. We must stop it.

I’ve been blessed to have been taught by some of the most beautiful souls one could ever hope to meet. I refuse to remain silent about any of this. I send my prayers to the spirit realm, where some of my teachers reside now. I send my love. I send my gratitude. And Grandmother, you are always, always in my heart. You are with me, in writing this. I hope you like it. It was for you. Blessings, Rev Judith Star-Medicine “ She Who Heals With Stars”

** Photo Of Grandmother Twylah **