When a man does a piece of work which is admired
by all we say that it is wonderful; but when we see the
changes of day and night, the sun, the moon, and the
stars in the sky, and the changing seasons upon the
earch, with their ripening fruits, anyone must realize
that it is the work of someone more powerful than man.

- Chased By Bears / Santee Lakota

"We do not want schools....
they will teach us to have churches.
We do not want churches....
they will teach us to quarrel about God.
We do not want to learn that.
We may quarrel with men sometimes
about things on this earth,
but we never quarrel about God.
We do not want to learn that."

- Heinmot Tooyalaket (Chief Joseph) / Nez Perce Leader

"We" overrides "Me"....

-Hawaiian Proverb

Native Joke

So anyway, there was this old Indian dude who hired
into a construction company. His first day on the job
the crew was worried about the dark clouds overhead.

He spoke up and said "It ain't gonna rain". Sure enough,
he was right! And so for months this went on, the crew
asked him everyday what the weather was gonna be,
and the old Indian would be right!

Until one day, they walked into the local diner and saw
their old Indian friend sipping on a mug of coffee.

They approached him and asked, "So old-timer, whats
the weather gonna be today?".

"Don't know", said the old man.

"What? What do you mean you don't know?" they asked.

He said again, "Don't know". They were bewildered.

"Why not?" they asked.

So the old Indian looked up and said flatly,
........."My radio's broke."

"I cannot tell you the dreamy Indian story of your
imagination simply because I am not imaginary -
and my story is no dream...."

THE DRUM IS FEMALE AND HUMAN

The drum represents the universal heartbeat
of (Mother Earth) -
the universal mother to us all.
The first sound that was heard
in the world was her heartbeat.
The first sound a baby hears in the womb
in the heartbeat of the Mother.
The heartbeat is manifested
through playing a special rhythm on the drum.
This rhythm facilitates healing and realignment
of the four realms of human existence

because the Creator revolves around the rhythm.
The drum when combined with the voice,
creates a hum that rests between the voice
and the drum and is thought to be the spirits of the Ancestors.

Therefore, Native hand drums are not
percussion instruments per se or a toy,
they are considered female and human
because of their direct tie to the earth.

When playing a drum,
it should never be hammered in an aggressive way
, this suggests giving it a 'beating'
and one must never 'hit' a woman!
The teaching goes even further by stating
that the drum mallet should not be referred to as a 'beater'
because of the suggestion of aggression contained in the word.

All drums have a unique sweet spot somewhere
on the surface of the drum~
just as a women has a sweet spot~
This sweet spot makes it play or resound even better~
Each drum has a unique personality~
that we if take time to feeel it and tap into it~
it will not only sing to us~
but also sing to the earth Spirits~
and make our prayers Strong~

The drumbeat itself, which is a reflection of your heart.
So your heart is your drumbeat,
and your songs are the gifts of life..

--- author unknown

Priceless!

Okay..., Here's another, than...

This next joke was told to me by an Elder, many years ago.

THE BRAVE & THE WAGON TRAIN

In the early 1800's, a white man/settler and his family were traveling across the plains on their wagon, when they came upon a young brave, lying on the sand with his ear to the ground. The white man asked, "What are you doing there?"

The brave replied, "Twenty seven miles from here, due North, there is a large wagon train. Forty-four horses, seven wagons, forty-five men, thirty-eight women & seventeen children. They also have ten dogs, enough food & provisions with them to last four months ...and ten camp tents."

The white man & his family looked at each other in awe! The white man said to the brave, "That's Amazing, that you can tell all that, just by putting your ear to the ground!! Simply, amazing!!"

The brave responded, "What do you mean? They ran over me, about two hours ago..."

*giggleSNORTing*

One of my teachers used to always say to me.... "If we can't laugh at ourselves, we miss the comedy of life.."...

VARIOUS TRIBE GREETINGS, FOR THE WORD "HELLO"

There is no such thing as a universal Indian greeting - the original inhabitants of North America spoke some 500-1000 different languages.

There is also no word for "goodbye", as we believe we will always see each other again in this life and/or in Spirit... There are also many different spellings of the same words..

Please feel free to add your own tribe greetings.., or ones that you know..

Aanni (ah-knee) - Ojibwe

Boozhoo (booze-who) - Ojibwe

Hau (how) - Pauite some Apache/ Omaha & Lakota Sioux)

Sekoh (seh-coh) - Mohawk

Osi'yo (oh-see-yo) - Cherokee (and many other southern tribes)

Tansi (tan-see) - Cree

Yatasay (Yat-a-say) - Chiricahua Apache

Kwe' - (qway) - Anishinaabe

"CHIEF SEATTLE'S 1854 ORATION" - ver . 1

AUTHENTIC TEXT OF CHIEF SEATTLE'S TREATY ORATION 1854

Yonder sky that has wept tears of compassion upon my people for centuries untold, and which to us appears changeless and eternal, may change. Today is fair. Tomorrow it may be overcast with clouds. My words are like the stars that never change. Whatever Seattle says, the great chief at Washington can rely upon with as much certainty as he can upon the return of the sun or the seasons. The white chief says that Big Chief at Washington sends us greetings of friendship and goodwill. This is kind of him for we know he has little need of our friendship in return. His people are many. They are like the grass that covers vast prairies. My people are few. They resemble the scattering trees of a storm-swept plain. The great, and I presume -- good, White Chief sends us word that he wishes to buy our land but is willing to allow us enough to live comfortably. This indeed appears just, even generous, for the Red Man no longer has rights that he need respect, and the offer may be wise, also, as we are no longer in need of an extensive country.

There was a time when our people covered the land as the waves of a wind-ruffled sea cover its shell-paved floor, but that time long since passed away with the greatness of tribes that are now but a mournful memory. I will not dwell on, nor mourn over, our untimely decay, nor reproach my paleface brothers with hastening it, as we too may have been somewhat to blame.

Youth is impulsive. When our young men grow angry at some real or imaginary wrong, and disfigure their faces with black paint, it denotes that their hearts are black, and that they are often cruel and relentless, and our old men and old women are unable to restrain them. Thus it has ever been. Thus it was when the white man began to push our forefathers ever westward. But let us hope that the hostilities between us may never return. We would have everything to lose and nothing to gain. Revenge by young men is considered gain, even at the cost of their own lives, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and mothers who have sons to lose, know better.

Our good father in Washington--for I presume he is now our father as well as yours, since King George has moved his boundaries further north--our great and good father, I say, sends us word that if we do as he desires he will protect us. His brave warriors will be to us a bristling wall of strength, and his wonderful ships of war will fill our harbors, so that our ancient enemies far to the northward -- the Haidas and Tsimshians -- will cease to frighten our women, children, and old men. Then in reality he will be our father and we his children. But can that ever be? Your God is not our God! Your God loves your people and hates mine! He folds his strong protecting arms lovingly about the paleface and leads him by the hand as a father leads an infant son. But, He has forsaken His Red children, if they really are His. Our God, the Great Spirit, seems also to have forsaken us. Your God makes your people wax stronger every day. Soon they will fill all the land. Our people are ebbing away like a rapidly receding tide that will never return. The white man's God cannot love our people or He would protect them. They seem to be orphans who can look nowhere for help. How then can we be brothers? How can your God become our God and renew our prosperity and awaken in us dreams of returning greatness? If we have a common Heavenly Father He must be partial, for He came to His paleface children. We never saw Him. He gave you laws but had no word for His red children whose teeming multitudes once filled this vast continent as stars fill the firmament. No; we are two distinct races with separate origins and separate destinies. There is little in common between us.

To us the ashes of our ancestors are sacred and their resting place is hallowed ground. You wander far from the graves of your ancestors and seemingly without regret. Your religion was written upon tablets of stone by the iron finger of your God so that you could not forget. The Red Man could never comprehend or remember it. Our religion is the traditions of our ancestors -- the dreams of our old men, given them in solemn hours of the night by the Great Spirit; and the visions of our sachems, and is written in the hearts of our people.

Your dead cease to love you and the land of their nativity as soon as they pass the portals of the tomb and wander away beyond the stars. They are soon forgotten and never return. Our dead never forget this beautiful world that gave them being. They still love its verdant valleys, its murmuring rivers, its magnificent mountains, sequestered vales and verdant lined lakes and bays, and ever yearn in tender fond affection over the lonely hearted living, and often return from the happy hunting ground to visit, guide, console, and comfort them.

Day and night cannot dwell together. The Red Man has ever fled the approach of the White Man, as the morning mist flees before the morning sun. However, your proposition seems fair and I think that my people will accept it and will retire to the reservation you offer them. Then we will dwell apart in peace, for the words of the Great White Chief seem to be the words of nature speaking to my people out of dense darkness.

It matters little where we pass the remnant of our days. They will not be many. The Indian's night promises to be dark. Not a single star of hope hovers above his horizon. Sad-voiced winds moan in the distance. Grim fate seems to be on the Red Man's trail, and wherever he will hear the approaching footsteps of his fell destroyer and prepare stolidly to meet his doom, as does the wounded doe that hears the approaching footsteps of the hunter.

A few more moons, a few more winters, and not one of the descendants of the mighty hosts that once moved over this broad land or lived in happy homes, protected by the Great Spirit, will remain to mourn over the graves of a people once more powerful and hopeful than yours. But why should I mourn at the untimely fate of my people? Tribe follows tribe, and nation follows nation, like the waves of the sea. It is the order of nature, and regret is useless. Your time of decay may be distant, but it will surely come, for even the White Man whose God walked and talked with him as friend to friend, cannot be exempt from the common destiny. We may be brothers after all. We will see.

We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children. Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe, and when your children's children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts that once filled them and still love this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone.

Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds.

It does not require many words to speak the truth. - Chief Joseph

On his deathbed, Geronimo, known to the Chiricahua Apache as Goyathlay, the One Who Yawns, reportedly expressed a single regret to his nephew:

I should never have surrendered.

I should have fought until I was the last man alive.

The Way of Council

Oki Ni-Kso-Ko-Wa (Hello All my relatives) This is the traditional greeting in Native American Culture and specifically of all Blackfoot people. It can be used in a pluralistic sense or singular as the situation dictates. What this greeting implies is much more than what initially meets the eye. It is an acknowledgement that says that no matter who you are or where you are from, I recognize that you are my relative, a part of my DNA deserving of respect and kindness.

Oki Ni-Kso-Ko-Wa is used in all areas of our Native American Culture and of our lives. When we greet the Morning Star and acknowledge our eternal and life sustaining connection to our Father. When we greet Mother Earth and acknowledge that She is indeed our true mother and our initial responsibility is to her before all else. The greeting says that we KNOW that through all things of material and etheric substance there is a common thread of DNA, which originates in Mother Earth and then is disseminated throughout the genetic makeup of ALL things, from the Grandfathers we call the Stone People to the human physiology that we have presently incarnated in.

Oki Ni-Kso-Ko-Wa further implies that because we consider all things as part of us, that we have as great a responsibility to maintain balance, harmony and peacefulness in those whom we are greeting as we do to ourselves. It implies that we are willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to maintain balance and harmony in those who cannot on their own, follow the process of self-healing.

--> http://www.native-americans-online.com/native-american-culture.html

Where I sit is holy
Holy is the Ground
Forest , mountains, rivers
Listen to the Sound
Great Spirit Circling
All around me

- Native American Chant

Air moves us
Fire transforms us
Water shapes us
Earth heals us
And the circle of the wheel goes round and round
And the circle of the wheel goes round

Grant Redhawk - Blackfoot Nation

Q: Why do Indians in the old Westerns always say "How"? Is this a real Native American word, or a Hollywood thing?

A: Some of both. The generic TV-Indian greeting "How"--and the Y-Indian Princess greeting "How How"--are Americanized versions of the Lakota/Dakota Sioux word "Hau," which means "hello." This greeting is still used by Sioux people today.

Of course, in the movies Indians from other tribes (Blackfoot, Cherokee, Apache, Cheyenne, Mohawk, Navajo, etc., etc) use this word too. That is incorrect, and is a little bit silly (as if German, Polish and Russian people all said "Bonjour!" in the movies.)

But unlike most of the "Indian words" presented in old Westerns, "How" really does come from an actual American Indian word.

Q: What is the difference between "American Indian," "Native American," "First Nations," and "indigenous people"? Which one should I use?

A: "American Indians," "Native Americans," and "First Nations people" are synonyms. They all refer to the same people. "Indigenous people" is a broader term that refers to any culture that lived in a place first. So Native Americans are all indigenous people, but not all indigenous people are Native Americans. For example, native African cultures are also indigenous.

Most indigenous people in the US use "American Indian," and most indigenous people in Canada use "First Nations." "Native Americans" or "indigenous Americans" are frequently used to refer to people in both countries. Some native people have a preference for one term or the other, but none of them are offensive. Most Native Americans identify themselves primarily by their tribe (such as Cherokee) anyway.

It's better to avoid using "Red Indian," for two reasons: first, this name originally referred to a specific tribe, the Beothuks, who painted their bodies and faces with red ochre. So it may cause confusion if you use it to refer to all Native Americans. Second, the term "Red Indians" has been used by racists in the United States, so using it may hurt somebody's feelings or give them the wrong impression. Please do not call native people "savages," "primitives" or "redskins." Those are always rude words.

Q: Are Inuit/Eskimos Native American? What about Hawaiians? What about the Metis?

A: No. Like the Native Americans, these three groups are indigenous peoples of Canada and the United States. However, they have unique histories and cultures and consider themselves distinct from Native Americans. The Inuit are polar people who live in the far north of Canada, Alaska, and Greenland. (The word "Eskimo" is considered rude by many Inuit.) The Hawaiians are Polynesian people who are considered indigenous Americans for political reasons (the Hawaiian islands are very far from the North American mainland, but were annexed by the United States). The Metis are mixed-race people whose ancestors were primarily Cree Indians and French Canadians. They have developed a unique culture from these two influences.

The Native Americans, Metis, Inuit, and Hawaiians all face similar problems for their languages and cultures, but they consider themselves distinct peoples.