
Tokheskhe yaun he! How are you?
Conversations related to true democracy and inclusion have been the foundation of the morals and values on which I was raised. I attended my first protest for racial justice and equality when I was four-years-old, in the early 1980s. When asked by teachers, “What was your “weekend high?”, I was more likely to share I had attended a march, rally, meeting, demonstration, or community gathering in support of racial equity, unfair labor practices, gender-related discrimination, ethnic equality, and sexual orientation discrimination.
As a child, I felt protected, included, and guided by the elders, leaders, and mothers of my Native American community. In addition to the social justice exposure, I was part of a community whose members included Native American tribes that spanned the length of California, including Mexico, all the way north to the Dakotas. Each weekend my family was welcomed to varying ceremonies, honoring Mother Earth and the healing of warriors and chiefs, and their families, from the wounds they received while fighting for the rights of Indigenous people of America. Yet, that changed when my mother, a respected Lakota leader, in the mid-1980s, announced she was “lesbian” and we were banished from our community.
As a result of being excluded from our traditional Lakota community, my mother started a grassroots non-profit organization which invited First Nations women, across the globe, to participate in an annual prayer ceremony that our people called Sundance. The Women’s Lakota Sundance has hosted and served over five thousand women throughout its 30 years of existence. Since I was 16 years old, I have stood beside my mother, learning, reciting, and teaching the morals and values of gender equality, sexual orientation and gender-nonbinary inclusion within the context of traditional ceremonies. I am currently the Sundance and organization leader, and facilitate leadership for sustainability within a youth council.
As a professional educator for twenty-two years, I have active conversations with administrators, equity committees, and community groups to promote equality in education for Native American and Black/African-American students. I am active in curriculum design, as well as curriculum content selection committees, to ensure students are experiencing inclusion as it aligns to the multicultural and ethnic diversity of the school's population. I work exclusively with our Native American community liaison to monitor and mitigate the high truancy rate of our Native American students. Within the past two years, I have co-created an alternative behavior school, using trauma-informed response practices, which has a population of 90% Black, Native American, and Latinx students. In addition, I have created a support program identifying the teachers, who are 80% Black, Native American, and Latinx, as first responders who experience compassion fatigue, and am using Indigenous storytelling and teaching practices to help reduce the psychological effects of working with students from trauma. The results of my work have created more inclusion, connection, and collaboration among ethnically diverse teachers, and has mitigated depression, self-harming practices, and feelings of isolation in Black/African American, Native American and Latinx professional educators.
Conversations related to true democracy and inclusion have been the foundation of the morals and values on which I was raised. I attended my first protest for racial justice and equality when I was four-years-old, in the early 1980s. When asked by teachers, “What was your “weekend high?”, I was more likely to share I had attended a march, rally, meeting, demonstration, or community gathering in support of racial equity, unfair labor practices, gender-related discrimination, ethnic equality, and sexual orientation discrimination.
As a child, I felt protected, included, and guided by the elders, leaders, and mothers of my Native American community. In addition to the social justice exposure, I was part of a community whose members included Native American tribes that spanned the length of California, including Mexico, all the way north to the Dakotas. Each weekend my family was welcomed to varying ceremonies, honoring Mother Earth and the healing of warriors and chiefs, and their families, from the wounds they received while fighting for the rights of Indigenous people of America. Yet, that changed when my mother, a respected Lakota leader, in the mid-1980s, announced she was “lesbian” and we were banished from our community.
As a result of being excluded from our traditional Lakota community, my mother started a grassroots non-profit organization which invited First Nations women, across the globe, to participate in an annual prayer ceremony that our people called Sundance. The Women’s Lakota Sundance has hosted and served over five thousand women throughout its 30 years of existence. Since I was 16 years old, I have stood beside my mother, learning, reciting, and teaching the morals and values of gender equality, sexual orientation and gender-nonbinary inclusion within the context of traditional ceremonies. I am currently the Sundance and organization leader, and facilitate leadership for sustainability within a youth council.
As a professional educator for twenty-two years, I have active conversations with administrators, equity committees, and community groups to promote equality in education for Native American and Black/African-American students. I am active in curriculum design, as well as curriculum content selection committees, to ensure students are experiencing inclusion as it aligns to the multicultural and ethnic diversity of the school's population. I work exclusively with our Native American community liaison to monitor and mitigate the high truancy rate of our Native American students. Within the past two years, I have co-created an alternative behavior school, using trauma-informed response practices, which has a population of 90% Black, Native American, and Latinx students. In addition, I have created a support program identifying the teachers, who are 80% Black, Native American, and Latinx, as first responders who experience compassion fatigue, and am using Indigenous storytelling and teaching practices to help reduce the psychological effects of working with students from trauma. The results of my work have created more inclusion, connection, and collaboration among ethnically diverse teachers, and has mitigated depression, self-harming practices, and feelings of isolation in Black/African American, Native American and Latinx professional educators.
Develop Your Confidence
- Clarify your vision
- Gather your supports
- Acknowledge your ancestors and helping guides
- Strategize your plan
Vertical Divider