Can you write an article about the Ho-Chunk for the Mankato Free Press?

A Ho-Chunk with Dakota ancestry Musings

I have been asked to submit an article for the Mankato Free Press.  Mankato, hmm, I must think.  When I think of Mankato, though I have been to the Dakota 38 ride event in December, and to its recent powwows, what I most remember is the first time I went to Mankato was the first inter-tribal powwow that was held there in the 70s’, maybe a little earlier.  Such is the memory of a child.

I lived with my grandparents, Henry and Marie Decorah.  Henry or Choka, was a full-blood Ho-Chunk from Portage, Wisconsin and Marie Crow, was a full-blood Dakota from Santee, South Dakota.  I attended many powwows with my grandparents.  They were usually held on the reservations in Minnesota, Iowa, South Dakota, or near villages in Wisconsin, but the Mankato Powwow that year was the first powwow held in Mankato since the mass hanging of the Dakota 38, plus 2 (though some feel there was one or two Ho-Chunks hung in this heroic group of men and boys).

My grandmother was especially excited for this powwow.  I remember comments like, “It will be good for us to be there” and “It is going to be a special powwow and I want to be there.”  My grandfather was afraid of what the community might think, afterall there was that sign that still hung in the city.  What sign?  I clearly remember that I didn’t understand what they were talking about, but I did understand that whatever they were talking about was serious, and I kept quiet and listened as we prepared to go to Mankato.

The powwow was, as I recall, was held in a ball field.  We camped in a tent near other families that we knew, mostly from St. Paul.  The surroundings were not familiar to me.  I had planned to dance fancy shawl, much to the dismay of my grandparents, but they supported me nonetheless.  A lost art of Indian parenting from the greatest generation, assimilation and all.  My Gram helped me to get ready.  My Choka put our chairs near the arena.  All seemed to go on as any other powwow we attended.

There were Dakota and Ho-Chunk people there.  Famlies that I knew who loved to dance and get together.  While we were dancing, the emcee, I don’t remember his name, said that there were eagles overhead.  Emcees announced many things, but this did not seem unusual.  The drumming and dancing continued.  Soon he said that there were several eagles overhead and urged us to look up.  I did.  I saw the eagles flying right over the arena.  We all kept dancing, but a swell of voices could be heard over the singing.

Soon the emcee started to count the eagles that flew over the dancing arena.  I remember he said, “...eleven, twelve” and then “twenty” and his voice cracked when he said, “thirty-one, thirty-two...”  Suddenly the drumming and dancing stopped.  The emcee, choking back tears, said, “There is one eagle for every man who was hung here in Mankato.”  I looked up and saw a large number of eagles flying right over the dancing arena.

Though I was a child, I knew that there was something special happening.  The emcee was crying, not something you see very often from a Dakota man or any Indian man.  I looked toward where my Gram was sitting, and she was crying.  I ran over to her and put my arms around her shoulder.  I asked her why she was crying.  She told me to look up and see what was going on and listen to the emcee. 

Soon after the eagles started to separate and fly away.

This is my memory of this day.  I don’t remember what the arena director said or what my grandparents said after this incident.  I do remember how I felt after we resumed dancing, I felt proud.  I felt that I had been a part of something very sacred and that I should remember what I had seen.

Much time has passed and I am no longer a child.  I know my Dakota and Ho-chunk history.  I have been angry about broken dubious treaties, evil bounties and discrimination. I have been saddened by health and educational disparities, alcoholism and suicide.  When I find it hard to continue I think about my grandparents.  I start to remember how much courage it took for them to simply live their lives after undergoing removals, genocidal tactics, assimilation, and relocation. 

I now know just how much attending that powwow in Mankato meant to my Gram.  I better understand the significance of the eagles flying overhead the dancing arena.  It was a sign from the Creator, from our ancestors to keep going and never forget.

GOM Legacy

Last week I met a nice young man whose last name was Decorah. Ah, a relative, right here in Rochester, MN.  He was a student, a freshman no less, at RCTC.  

I was there with Mr. Art Owen, to address the Native American Studies class, which was being taught by a white man, of course, such is Rochester's legacy.  When the class discussion turned to the Ghost Dance and the Sundance, well Art wanted me to investigate.  I did and now, there we were, in a small class, with students of every age, not talking about the Ghost Dance and sharing what we could about the Sundance.

After the class, the two Decorah's spotted one another.  Who are your parents and grandparents?  The "who are your people" test.  I knew his people, but he didn't know mine, which was age related.  I was considerably older than he was, and that is okay.  Neither of us would want to change places with the other.  As we spoke about our Ho-Chunk heritage and involvement in the tribe, he said something very odd.

"When you go to the General Council, you have to sit with your clans...we don't have a clan."

Ah, yes, it all started with Glory of the Morning and Joseph Sabrevior Decaris, I know.  He went on to explain what clan he thought he was and so did I.  He thought his dad said they were Thunder and I said my Choka told me that we were Eagle. 

There we stood, at RCTC in 2016, discussing if we had a clan or not.  I said that I was "issued" a clan by the enrollment office; Bear.  He was told that he was Bear too.  I told him what I knew, from the enrollment office tribal genealogist: when there is no Ho-Chunk father, then you have to go by the mother's clan.  Not a well-liked choice per the purest of the tribe, who all have Ho-Chunk fathers, as if Ho-Chunk mother's were a thing of naught.  Shame on you!  

Only one time in modern Ho-Chunk history did the Elders change the tradition.  This was after the harsh removal from Wisconsin during the 1800s', when many of the women were impregnated by white army officers.  A Council of Elders (not a General Council) was held and they decided to let these women keep their clans, so that their children would not be clan-less.    Another decision made under dire circumstances. Many Ho-Chunk families were affected by this decision and their clans remain in tact today.  I know their names.

Respectfully speaking, though to the point, well known Ho-Chunk families have clans even though their mother's, grandmother's and great-grandmother's were robbed of their virtue and their children do not have Ho-Chunk fathers, but Glory of the Morning who married outside of the tribe in the 1600s', can not have a clan.  Is this right? Shame on you!

From my research, Ho-Chunk women will do anything for their male relatives, children, families, and the tribe.  Early Ho-Chunk women were fierce.  They were not afraid to die or fight.  Such is the legacy of Ho-Chunk women, but what of Glory of the Morning?

As I have pondered her legacy, I realize that Glory of the Morning's legacy was not to leave her descendants without a clan, that was the subsequent tribal leadership who wielded their authority and made her a thing of naught.  As the tribe, and tribal leadership have struggled to be unified, clan assignments were made with best guesses per a scattered and somewhat assimilated Ho-Chunk membership.

No, Glory of the Morning's legacy was not to leave her descendants without a clan.  Per the sacred visit quest dream of her sons, we can have any clan we choose.  In essence, we can have them all!  After all, Joseph was adopted into the tribe and given a name and a clan.  Both of these individuals were real, courageous, and did what they could for their people and their children.  Joseph left the sons with Glory of the Morning, and he took the young girl to be raised by his family. It was their choice.

For me, Glory of the Morning's legacy was to have her descendants seek out their lineage and remember from whence they came.   We have come from fiercely individual, courageous, and purposeful stock.  Glory of the Morning was a Peace Chief who proved herself through heroic actions.  Such warrior-like actions of women who followed her,  as Yellow-headed Woman and countless other Ho-Chunk women who have served in the military.  Glory of the Morning chose to marry outside of the Ho-Chunk Nation to benefit her village and her people, and perhaps, out of love.  

This is my lineage: Glory of the Morning had two sons and a daughter with Joseph Decaris, Spoon, Buzzard and Henu.  We descend from Spoon>Shachipkaka>White Woman>Foster>Doctor>Choka>Vera>me.  My Ho-Chunk women are NOT a thing of naught!  And when and if I attend a General Council meeting, I will sit wherever I damn well please!!

Glory of the Morning's legacy was to show her descendants a way to live life despite its hardships.  She didn't make herself a Chief, that was the General Council's doing.  That was a decision that was made under extreme circumstances. Why should our people be ashamed of this?  She did what needed to be done.  Such is the characteristic of all Ho-Chunk women of Glory of the Morning's time and mine.  My Choka's uncle Russius Decorah's daughter, Adelia, is a perfect example of a strong, courageous, outspoken, and knowledgeable example of Glory of the Morning's legacy.

In time, I hope the legacy that I leave for my children is just as strong, courageous, and valiant as Glory of the Morning's, but as kind, loving, with a bit of defiance as my Gram's, Marie Edith Crow Decorah.