My Experience

When I was born in New Mexico, my parents describe me as having a full head of dark black hair and dark, black eyes. My grandma said I looked like a Navajo baby, showing my Native American roots. I was also named after Annie Lyman, a Sioux woman and my ancestor.

As a child, I loved reading. I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor with a small stack of books next to me, delicately flipping the pages. These books were well loved, with cracked spines and faded colors on the covers. These were books I held dearly; they were more special than the other books in my room. These books were a set of beautifully illustrated narratives about young girls from different tribes. They were going on adventures, talking to ancestral spirits, fulfilling their duties to their families and tribe. They even had arguments between the main character and their families. While at the time I didn’t know much about Native American culture, these books felt real to me. I wanted to go on the same adventures as these girls. They always learned and become better young women; they all had determination and cared a lot for their families and people. While my life was very different from these characters, I wanted to be like them. These books were a beginning to change my thoughts about the world and myself. These books were about strength, loyalty, and most importantly empathy. In elementary school, while we were learning about some Native American history, I brought these books to share. I wanted to bring these new perspectives to the classroom, where most of my peers were new to this topic. Although at the time, I was primarily concerned with my books not being destroyed.

In elementary school we had an annual event called “Heritage Day”. Students would dress up in clothing representing the culture of their ancestry or country (we had a lot of diversity at my school). At night, there would be an assembly where students would go across the auditorium stage modeling their clothing while a teacher announced the culture they were representing. Afterwards, in the cafeteria, people would bring food from their culture for

people to try. Every year, my brother and I, not knowing yet that we were Shawnee and not Cherokee, represented the Yankton Sioux tribes. Our mom, a non-Native American, would make a soup from a recipe from my grandmother consisting of the “Three Sisters”, common ingredients and the main crops grown by many of the tribes, consisting of corn, beans, and squash; she also added buffalo meat. I remember watching my mom sewing the regalia we wore for it. My dress and shawl were very colorful, and had shells sewn on just below the collar. The main dress was a tan color, with stripes of different colored ribbon. I also had a shawl which was purple with gold fringe around the edges. My brother had a red ribbon shirt that he wore with blue jeans. We wore the same regalia to a Powwow. I remember all of the stalls throughout the halls of the building of Native craftspeople selling handmade beadwork, quilts, artwork, and pottery. We walked into a big room with wooden bleachers descending down towards a large circular center with a dirt floor. Our grandmother told my brother and I we could go down to join the ceremonial dance with our cousin. Unfortunately, we did not know the proper way of doing the dance, which greatly embarrassed my grandma, but then she showed us how to dance properly with steps and a little bend at the knee and small bounce.

In middle and high school, I made a choice to remove meat and its derivatives from my diet. At the time, I was heavily focused on the ethical and environmental consequences for myself. I had known and educated myself about the Native American principles regarding animal life, with all life - including that being used for food – viewed as sacred. In the nomadic Indians’ culture, the entire animal was used with the hides being used for clothing or shelter, the meat was used for cooking, bones were turned into tools or weapons, and the organs were used to create water pouches and other vessels. I didn’t like the suffering of animals because of how they were being raised in the modern day for food, and how much waste was being produced. These concepts also opened me up towards different interests, including herbal medicine and the importance of eating the right plants to be healthy.

For a project in high school, I was required to research Native cuisine. For that project, I made a common reservation dish - fry bread. Fry bread became a Native American food because often what they had to eat was white flour and little else. It is an airy dough which is fried. It can be served with honey or powdered sugar, or it can also be used with taco ingredients to make it a savory meal. While my attempt to make fry bread did not go exactly…well, good, it was an learning experience. I now have a recipe written out by my grandmother to use in the future when I choose to make it again.

In June of 2019, my family traveled to South Dakota for a family reunion of my Grandma’s Sioux side of the family. It was held in a casino on the Yankton Reservation. While we were in South Dakota, we traveled across the state to see the buffalo herds and see the land. During this trip we also visited the graves of the Arrow’s to see where our family was buried in Flandreau. Everywhere you go in South Dakota has the energy of the Sioux culture. We saw a huge statue, called “Dignity”, depicting a traditional Sioux woman wrapped in a Star quilt. We visited the places where Annie Lyman lived and worked.

We saw a Catholic church in Marty, SD that was decorated with biblical stories and figures depicted as Native American men and women. It was very interesting seeing the reservations up close, but unfortunately, the level of poverty on the reservations was clearly visible.