The picture is of my great-grandfather, Foster Decorah, with his brother Russius Decorah. Great kinships through these lines. 

A mind wandering day that started out with the Ho-Chunk Nation health board. They need representatives from each district (4), but hey, aren't there 5? I'm not Ho-Chunk because I live in MN?  See the above photo and search your history. We lived in WI, Illinois, Iowa, and, yes, MN. 

Then in the newspaper Indian Country Today, there was an article about Alaska and their identity situation. They have thought beyond BQ and embraced kinships. That is good, but some tribes are sticking with BQ; either way, you slice it, it seems that blood or genes need to be involved. What about people who have been careful to marry within the tribe but consider clans? Ought their attention to BQ be rewarded? Shouldn't tribes be able to consider the survival of their people? Some tribes lowering their BQ to 1/8.  Some say it is not our way to measure the amount of blood, uh; tell that to the number of metis or 1/2-bloods out there. Is blood or kinships the only connection to a tribe?

Every summer, my grandparents, Henry and Marie Decorah, visited their family in South Dakota, Nebraska, and Wisconsin. We went to powwows too. We went to ceremonies, birthday celebrations, funerals, and devotions. We lived in the Cities, but we were connected to our people, family, and tribe. My Choka's tribe and people knew him. My gram's tribe and people knew her. We attended inter-tribal events in the Cities as well. We were connected to our people. 

Tribes need to have the final say in who they acknowledge as tribal members. 

I work in a place where people have a faint connection with their tribe for monies only. This faint connection earned them college scholarships (no proof of ancestry required), jobs (no Indian status), and promotions. They have worked at this institution and have never helped our people until I started working there. I feel this is very hypocritical. These people don't know the lang, the culture, or the ways. Sad. I notice that these are the type of people that cry foul over BQ. 

Tribes know their people. They know the families that comprise their tribal membership. They know the sacrifices that families have made over the years to help the people. BQ or kinships, it's up to each tribal nation to determine who their tribal members are. 

 

Doty Island

                                                                       Doty Island.

I was asked to think about a holy place that I felt connected to in a very sacred way, and it is Doty Island. In 2012, I had the opportunity to travel to this place pursing my research regarding GOM. Jonathan Carver described coming up to an island, just off of the Fox River. He described the plush vegetation filled with fruits and vegetables of every kind. There was a village of about 200 strong, and there was a queen: GOM.

I stood on Doty Island, in a park with willow trees, and read Carver's account. I believe I was standing near where GOM stood as Carver circled the island. Very humbling. The experience still carries me today. Grateful to GOM's life and legacy. Grateful that Carver recounted his visited with this extraordinary woman. Pinagigi!

I have been very impressed with a black woman's post on FB regarding her Black Timeline.  All of her young life was spent justifying who she was to the Mormon church, her school through college, and now her employer. It breaks my heart. I was sad and then I realized that I too, had a timeline.  I will call it the Red Timeline.

The 1960s': It started when I was young growing up in St. Paul with neighbor kids doing war hoops when they knew my family was going to a powwow.  It hurt and I didn't know why.   My grandparents said that white people were ignorant of our ways, and no more was said.

The 1970s': My junior high school went crazy when MLK was assassinated, with the Viet Nam War, and other social injustices. I wasn't able to go to school one day because of expected riots. When I went to school the next day a friend of mine that I knew since elementary school said it was quiet at school and there were no problems. I told myself then that I would never be afraid of social unrest again. In my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there was a woman who came up to me after church services and said, "You won the pageant. My daughter Rowena was in that pageant and you won.  Look at you!  My daughter is beautiful and talented, and you..." I was shocked! I told my mom what this white lady said and my mom called the Bishop of our church, Thomas A. Holt. He apologized to our family on behalf of this unkind church member.  Obviously, I was prettier and more talented than her daughter, I won the pageant. Once I graduated from high school, I left the church.  I had enough of people's unkindness toward me and my family. Also, I was so confused because black men could not have the Priesthood.

The 1980s': My first taste of discrimination against native people that were darker than I was. I wondered why I had escaped discrimination. I reasoned it was because people were not educated and misunderstood people's intentions. I got scholarships and doors opened for me.  I attended college and did very well.  I got a full ride to UMD because I was native and interested in science. I struggled in college. My family was in constant need and in turmoil, which meant I was in turmoil as well.  It was hard to study and my people felt I was too good for them or that I was trying to be white by getting an education. I was following my grandparents' advice because they said, "Get all the education you can because that is the one thing the white man can't take away from you." I visited my grandparents quite often while in college.  They lived in Black River Falls, Wisconsin and I would go shopping for them.  It was there in these shops that I experienced racism in a small store there in that town. I was angry, left the store because they kept following me around. After I married my husband, I returned to the church, unsure if the racist attitudes had changed. It was okay but hard for my daughter.

The 1990s': I became a registered nurse and worked for a PHN agency in Beltrami County.  There, I heard so many off comments about Native Americans from nurses. "You don't have much hair on your arms."  "Native Americans don't get up until 11am, so I couldn't see my client this morning."  "You can take the patient with TB, right?" That was it. I filed a Human Rights Complaint against Beltrami County and won!  It was pretty evident that there were racist nurses within the ranks and I left. The director of nursing actually had my followed by her delusional husband who thought he was a private investigator.  I saw them on the street across from my neighbor, Sargeant Bob, and Jackie.  He was there with his daughter.  As I drove by them, I stared at them and smiled. I donated my award from the County to the Bemidji Area Race Relations County. The County Attorney actually said that people do these sorts of things to tailor their jobs or get money.  Please! As for my church, I had a lot of leadership positions and not being shy to comment about any issue, if there were any racists attitudes, I did not hear them.

The 2000s': I tolerated Church members' off comments and didn't know how to handle it.  Our doctrine states that we are all children of God.  It was at this time that I realized that some people are more special than others, especially within my own church. This hurt! There were so few POC in leadership positions.  Hard to see and experience. There had to be a better way. I remember pleading with Heavenly Father to help me understand why there was so much intolerance of native people and especially of black people in our church. I worked PT as a nurse and I was such a formidable force as a nurse and tried to brush off comments with humor and knowledge.

The 2010s': This is when it happened to me. I was not going to stay quiet, deflect racists comments any longer. I had three children in Rochester Public Schools and I was a mother bear. Teachers said that boarding schools were created for native people so that they could learn how to get along better with each other. My son had an assignment to make a poster to help draw newly arriving immigrants to his colony. What?  Instead, we made a poster about the 3 native tribes that were driven out of Pennsylvania.  The teacher wrote a simple note that said she was sorry that she had him do the assignment and the assignment he turned in was great. He got an A on it. Such ignorant comments made me so mad that I started the Indian Parent Education Committee during a site visit from the Education Commissioner, Consellius.  I said that I tried for years to work with the district and used my own money to help our children learn about their heritage. I wanted her help to learn how I could formally organize and get help for our children. She put me in touch with her assistant and today we have the American Indian Alaska Native Parent Committee and a school liaison.  We also have the right to wear eagle feathers at graduation.  I will forego the shouting match the superintendent and I had in the parking lot after the meeting with the commissioner. The Century Soccer Team, managed by a white teacher, Houghton, put my son on the B team.  He was such a good player. He had been playing since he was 3 years old and was tough. The kids said that he was placed on the B team because that was the "Brown" team.  Yup, it was true.  There were only white kids on the A team.  Kids could not even play well.  Mercy!  I had enough. I filed an OCR complaint and we now have a full-fledged investigation for 5 years to monitor discipline and other inequities. This was followed up with the MN DHR, which encouraged our district to enlist voluntarily in its program to help districts with poor track records regarding inequities.

Next, came the sad acts at my church against my sons, both brown and beautiful. The stake president and his counselors did all they could to hurt my oldest son who had ADD and RAD.  They followed him. They accused him of so many things. Even of breaking into the church, a charge that was levied by one of the daughters of the bishopric of my church. The seminary program was the worst.  There is much church history that is covert and whitewashed to protect the image of the church. A classic example is the Mountain Meadow Massacre. This was where members of the church dressed up as Indians to protect their own interests and pursue greed. To this day the church states that it was not only church members of the local tribe instigated the massacre.  This is false! I believe the tribe. When my son related the story of the massacre, the seminary teachers accused him of lying and starting trouble.  As luck would have it, the stake president asked us as parents to talk with our children about such matters to help their testimony.  I was doing just as the stake president asked and he turned on me and threw my son out of seminary. Where was the love? Where was the help from the Priesthood? It was horrible. The last straw is when the stake president's counselor Brian Cragun came to our house with the police and said my son was seen at the church over the weekend and he needed to stop trespassing. He had witnesses who saw my son!  Too bad Brian Cragun, we were out of town over the weekend, in fact, we were in Arizona! Time after time off comments kept coming. A general RS president said to our women's group, "Do you want to see a video about some Indians?" What?  Was I invisible?  I was there to get training from her?  Another stalwart family said that they wanted to string up Obama with a rope.  We invited this stalwart family to my son's BD party and she was holding the rope of the pinata.  The current stake president said in a conference that we were all immigrants to this country.  My daughter, who knows our creation stories, asked, "What about us? We have been born here and have always been here in this land."  Sad. There are no POC in leadership positions in this stake, and it's sad. Racists members of the church do exist and it's scary.  They hold leadership positions. They are stake presidents, bishops, RS presidents, seminary teachers, and so forth. Again, I prayed to Heavenly Father to understand why we, as native people, my family had to be subjected to this racism. The only answer I received is that these people have a responsibility to be in these positions.  They have to learn. Soon thereafter, two non-white apostles were called to lead the church as well, and it is my prayer that the church will seriously examine its practices and live up to the great charge we all have been given to be like the Savior.

2020s': Just when I thought I could no longer attend church, COVID 19 struck and we have been unable to attend church and instead have services in our home. Praise be!  Something good that came out of this terrible pandemic. I feel the Lord is giving us all a chance to live up to our covenants and help the leadership see how the church needs help with racist attitudes. His name be praised!

I now work at Mayo Clinic and there again, racist attitudes abound despite Mayo's attempt to have people live up to its values.  I believe the majority of the leadership in their lofty strongholds or offices believe and practice these values.  I know that at least one does, Jeff Bolton. He understands the native plight, but where I am, in the trenches with patients, we have a long way to go!!!  An attending physician actually said that he knew that native patients were very passive and cooperative.  He said this when he came upon a prosecuting attorney who was demanding to have a voice in their care. The nurses on 3 Domitilla actually tried to hold me accountable for a patient leaving AMA. Someone said some administrator that this was going to be another CNN story.  Just because I was native and the patient was native, I must have been in cahoots with the patient.  Honestly!  Reports were made.  Nothing was done. I was cleared of any wrongdoing, but no one was held accountable for the horrible treatment this poor patient received and the horrible treatment I received.  Another person, a SW told a patient to go and ask their tribe for help. Another person made fun of the sacred practice of smudging and laughed. A person actually told me that our designated room that we smudge it would never be used for such an act. On and on it goes.

There are many nurses and physicians (residents) who are genuinely concerned about my patients and their cultural practices and want to see them continue despite being hospitalized. These people give me such hope. Also, the leadership continues to give me hope, but I hope they get out of their strongholds and see what we in the trenches have to deal with. I continue to help make Mayo a culturally safe place to be, and it is because there are more that are not racists than those who are.

Now we have the death of George Floyd. So sad. Such a heinous crime by someone who is sworn to protect and serve. It's scary! I have to listen to people frame the protesters as terrible rioters and looters.  Some people have to scream to be heard.  I know that. Some people have to take a chance, stick their necks out, and sadly they get stepped on. People are drawn to the sins of George Floyd, but I am not. He was a human being, deserving of humanity, and compassion. He was given none by a group of 4 policemen who decided to be judge, jury, and executioner.

Today I was asked to be on some task force to address any racist concerns and how best to deal with the sadness and stress that we as POC feel about the horrible crime of murder against George Floyd, but to also deal with systemic racism.  Also, I was asked to attend a meeting for nurses of color to see how we can address the inequities regarding leadership positions at Mayo. There is hope and bravo to Mayo for attempting to cleanse its inner vessel.  It is hard to do.  I know this because I am trying to cleanse my inner vessel and it's hard and it hurts.

I feel that I have begun to address my sadness about the heinous crime against George Floyd.  My heart is a little lighter. I will still feel some fear when my son drives around our small town. Especially my Army Ranger. He won't take anything from anyone. I am afraid to call the police. I am afraid because we are POC. White fragility is real and only growing more intense.

At times like this, I think of my grandparents. They lived through assimilation, removals, and so much loss. They made their peace with so many injustices throughout their lives. They were such humble and giving people. Through their example, I have learned to be kind, compassionate, never back down from injustice, be willing to teach and learn, remember to help your people, and above all, worship the Creator. There is more to this life and we will return to live with Him again.

We are still here

It is out of sadness that write today, but I still have hope.

I attended a three day conference on Race and Racism. The Science Museum of MN catered teachings on racism to reflect our community in Rochester. It was a wonderful three days though it was hard and we had to confront our own biases and those of others.  During the conference, one morning the leaders of the seminar held a moment of silence for my people, whose land this once was.  It was a lovely gesture and it made me cry.  I remain committed to ending racism in Rochester and I remain true to my faith and my people.  I kept and journal during the conference as was required, and I will continue to keep a RACE journal going forward.  It will not always be posted as a blog like today, but I felt a yearning to write.

My people go back to Chief Thunder > Glory of the Morning (b.1620-30), on my grandfather's line and back 7 generations on Joseph Sabrevior Decaris's (b.1630) line.  All these have had their temple blessings  done as well, as I believe in the restoration of the church of Jesus Christ. At any rate, a proud people, here before time was, created in the image of the Creator > Heavenly Father.  This land, given to my people to safeguard and to be stewards of. This is my history.  Even Glory of the Morning fought for the survival of her people and so too it is with me, to bring the truth in the light and to move our people forward in hope, looking forward to the return of the Creator, Himself.

Our church is quite proud of their genealogy commitment.  I had my complete line all the way back to Chief Thunder, and suddenly one day it was gone.  Someone with the last name of SMITH completely changed my family history.  I was beyond shocked.  I was speechless.  It was as if a part of me was lost.  I can't even look on the site without crying.  I am looking into other sites, who do not do such heinous things to people's precious family trees.  Someone actually replaced Glory of the Morning with Mrs. DeCarrie.  It's still painful.  Yet their work has been completed and I need to move forward.

Now to today, which set me on a path to write, to rid myself of the pain and anguish which I feel.  Today in church, our stake president, a goodly man, in an attempt to help us see that we have more things in common than we do our differences asked all those who were first generation immigrants to raise their hand.  This continued until we got the the 7th generation of immigrants.  I waited to hear that only NA's should have their hands down, but alas nothing further was said.  Now this was done to help us as a church be less biased and to stop the racism in the church or our stake in Zion.  There it was, the perpetuation of the racism I face each day.  The racism my children face each day.  We are invisible.  We are not here.  We have been dealt with.  Just as the French and the British have done before; put us in our place and moved forward with their acts of genocide and greed.

At first I felt surprised and then I felt sad. This is my church, and again, I and my family were being ignored, disregarded, and forgotten.  It just keeps happening over and over again.  it happens at work, especially with the SW's, it happens in the community, especially with the Park Department, and now in what is to be my refuge. What more can HF ask of me?  I keep going despite the hardship. Do my children see?  Do they see that I acknowledge the injustices and see that I continue to rise above their fray and move forward, only side lined for a day or two, but always moving forward.

I hope my children can move forward, not color blind like so many ask us to be, by trying to white wash the situation and see everyone as white or colorless. Or I hope they try not to appease anyone by being politically correct never confronting racism.  I hope they rise above the efforts by the dominant society to silence us POC, through the termination of the discussion before it even begins by setting up their norms to LIGHTLY address biases.  I will not always be here and my children need to be strong.

Glory of the Morning did what she had to, to ensure her people's survival, so too it is with me. She survived two regimes, the ire of her people after she became a Chieftess, and the ever changing landscape of her homelands given to her by the Creator Himself. I do not believe I would have been so brave or resilient to do what she did. I need to be strong for my children and my people. We are still here even if others do not see it or acknowledge it. 

Beginning a new phase for GOM.  Sent my story/book  to the Minnesota Historical Society.  They will review in and get back to me in 6 weeks.  Very semi-exciting.

She was the first Ho-Chunk woman mentioned in writing at the WHS. 

In my query letter, I said that the WHS was a champion of GOM.  It's true and they are.  They are also very cognizant of our Ho-Chunk history.

On the downside, someone, with the last name of Smith, changed my ancestry on Family Search.  They complete took Glory of the Morning out of my family tree.  How dare they!  This person, undoubtedly NOT a DeCora or a descendant called her Mrs. Decarrie.  The nerve!  Family Search was NOT helpful at all.  They said I had to work it out with her.  What!!!??? I have spent YEARS doing my family history and someone named Smith changed it all.  They took out Joseph and Glory of the Morning's children, his parents, and her father.  This was more than I could bear.  I refuse to use Family Search again.  Such a facade!  I have to search for a new genealogy site to keep my records.   I know why Kathleen Schell said to watch what I put out there on the web regarding my family tree.  I didn't know anyone can go into Family Search and change MY family tree.  NEVER again!!!

Glory of the Morning was Joseph's wife, in Indian custom, pure and simple.  They did not need a minister, pastor or priest.  They were wed through Mauna and our sacred ceremonies.  Tired of the colonizers controlling our history.  Idle no more!

Life and living, then and now

Glory of the Morning.  A new phase for this blog.  I am ever amazed how GOM blazed her own path.  Despite being steeped in tradition, she married Joseph, had children, was a Chieftess, and lived to be 120.  She lived to see so many changes, many harmful to her people.  I remember my Choka, when he was praying, he was 94, and he said his prayer in English at first and caught himself and began again in Ho-Chunk.  He said that he was happy that he was living...I will never forget that. All he talked about was dying and going to be with Gram again, yet in his prayers he thanked HF for living. 

GOM, my Choka and Gram had the courage to live their lives.  It is what it takes to live our lives in this day.  So much hate and division.  Not unlike the French Regime and then the English Regime for GOM.  We adapted then and must do the same today. Grateful for her courage.  Grateful that she cared for her people and her family.

I finished my book about GOM.  I need to start sending it out to publishers.  I sent it to the WHS, but never heard back from Dr. Edmonds.  I told him he could have the first look at it.  Perhaps he was sad that it was not a piece of non fiction.  There were too many things that called to me to make it fiction.  Gordon Thunder said that it should be so, and I followed his counsel.  It's what you do when you ask an Elder for advice.  I am happy with it.  Glad to have written about GOM and her life.

Glory of the Morning: Who holds your fate?

Glory of the Morning: Who holds your fate?: This picture of Doty Island gives me strength.  I can still remember the first time I saw it and read Jonathan Carver's account of his...