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<channel>
	<title>native-american &amp;laquo; WordPress.com Tag Feed</title>
	<link>http://wordpress.com/tag/native-american/</link>
	<description>Feed of posts on WordPress.com tagged "native-american"</description>
	<pubDate>Sat, 19 Jul 2008 04:48:53 +0000</pubDate>

	<generator>http://wordpress.com/tags/</generator>
	<language>en</language>

<item>
<title><![CDATA[Eagle and Condor]]></title>
<link>http://soulsecretservice.wordpress.com/?p=178</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2008 06:37:47 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>soulsecretservice1</dc:creator>
<guid>http://soulsecretservice.wordpress.com/?p=178</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Eagle and Condor- Film Trailer
The ongoing fulfillment of the prophecy of the eagle and the condor]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<h3><span><strong>Eagle and Condor- Film Trailer</strong></span></h3>
<p><span>The ongoing fulfillment of the prophecy of the eagle and the condor... when north and south come into balance we will have peace. Head and heart must balance... also our masculine and feminine must balance.<br />
knewways.com</span></p>
<p><span style='text-align:center; display: block;'><object width='425' height='350'><param name='movie' value='http://www.youtube.com/v/2l07aswI_g4'></param><param name='wmode' value='transparent'></param><embed src='http://www.youtube.com/v/2l07aswI_g4&rel=0' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' width='425' height='350'></embed></object></span></p>
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<item>
<title><![CDATA[Prophets of Change]]></title>
<link>http://soulsecretservice.wordpress.com/?p=153</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2008 06:10:49 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>soulsecretservice1</dc:creator>
<guid>http://soulsecretservice.wordpress.com/?p=153</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Film Trailer for Brian D. Hardin&#8217;s new film, Prophets of Change
a documentary film exposing ou]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<h3><strong>Film Trailer for Brian D. Hardin's new film, Prophets of Change</strong></h3>
<p>a documentary film exposing our evolutionary shift and how we can harmoniously relate to the world around us. Prophets of Changes helps the viewer to fearlessly evolve into another level of understanding, wisdom and action.</p>
<p><span style='text-align:center; display: block;'><object width='425' height='350'><param name='movie' value='http://www.youtube.com/v/lDSG3JqBEJU'></param><param name='wmode' value='transparent'></param><embed src='http://www.youtube.com/v/lDSG3JqBEJU&rel=0' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' width='425' height='350'></embed></object></span></p>
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<item>
<title><![CDATA[Elders Speak pt 1]]></title>
<link>http://soulsecretservice.wordpress.com/?p=151</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 18 Jul 2008 06:06:28 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>soulsecretservice1</dc:creator>
<guid>http://soulsecretservice.wordpress.com/?p=151</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Indigenous Native American Prophecy  (Elders Speak pt1)

]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<h3><strong>Indigenous Native American Prophecy  (Elders Speak pt1)</strong></h3>
<p><span style='text-align:center; display: block;'><object width='425' height='350'><param name='movie' value='http://www.youtube.com/v/g7cylfQtkDg'></param><param name='wmode' value='transparent'></param><embed src='http://www.youtube.com/v/g7cylfQtkDg&rel=0' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' width='425' height='350'></embed></object></span></p>
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<item>
<title><![CDATA[ManMade Profile: Art of Spirit LeatherWorks ]]></title>
<link>http://manmademarket.wordpress.com/?p=44</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 23:41:56 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>yankeebelle</dc:creator>
<guid>http://manmademarket.wordpress.com/?p=44</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Inferno Wristband
 
Name: Kathy Fowler
Shop Name: Art of Spirit LeatherWorks
Blog/Website: http://w]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="430" caption="Inferno Wristband"]<img class="grey_border " src="http://ny-image2.etsy.com/il_430xN.29483386.jpg" alt="" width="430" height="443" />[/caption]
<p style="text-align:center;"> </p>
<p><strong>Name: Kathy Fowler</strong></p>
<p>Shop Name: <a href="http://www.aosleather.etsy.com/">Art of Spirit LeatherWorks</a></p>
<p>Blog/Website: <a href="http://www.aosleather.com/">http://www.aosleather.com</a><br />
<a href="http://www.aosleather.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">http://www.aosleather.blogspot.com</a></p>
<p>Location: Beautiful Northern Michigan</p>
<p><strong>What do you sell that would appeal to the guys?</strong><br />
Belts, of course. Hand-tooled full-grain cowhide and (if you look on my website) gorgeous rattlesnake skin belts (which seem to ONLY appeal to men). I do a lot of custom orders and men seem to like the ability to get what they want done their way. Though you won't see any examples in my current inventory, I do a lot of "bike" leather on request. In response to a number of requests, I am starting to make my original stone &#38; leather pendants with a more gender-neutral silver bale so that men can wear them. I call them Earth Medallions. They've been very popular with women, but men have been shying away because of the floral drop-tube I currently use. But I like customer feedback, and I listen. Men have been telling me they would wear them "if only" ... so I'm excited about the new style and am currently working on a batch. Examples of those will start appearing in my <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5515734" target="_blank">Etsy shop</a>.</p>
<p><strong>Where do you sell your stuff?</strong><br />
Etsy, other online venues, I have my website for custom orders. Also in <a href="http://www.google.com/search?ie=UTF-8&#38;q=Ward%20%26%20Eis%20Gallery%20in%20Petoskey%2c%20MI" target="_blank">Ward &#38; Eis Gallery in Petoskey, MI</a>, <a href="http://www.google.com/search?ie=UTF-8&#38;q=Guntzviller%27s%20In%20Elk%20Rapids%2c%20MI%20" target="_blank">Guntzviller's in Elk Rapids, MI </a>and at craft shows and powwows all over Michigan.</p>
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="430" caption="Black Diamond Hand Tooled Leather Belt"]<img class="grey_border " src="http://ny-image0.etsy.com/il_430xN.26556808.jpg" alt="Black Diamond - Hand-Tooled Leather Belt -- Full-Grain Cowhide - Size 30" width="430" height="409" />[/caption]
<p><strong>How long have you been in business?<br />
</strong>In one form or another I've been selling my craft since the first pieces I turned out, over 35 years ago. Due to family and other life-considerations there have been times when it wasn't my primary income, but I've never left it behind and I've never done it as a hobby. It's currently my only income source, and I'm planning on keeping it that way. Michigan is going through some serious employment and economic issues now, and the ability to be self-employed with internet options so I can reach customers outside of the state has been my saving grace.</p>
<p><strong>How did you get started?<br />
</strong>True story: when I was seventeen years old (way back in the early 70's) I wandered into a hippy leather shop called Silo Leather in Birmingham, MI. The owner, an ex-con named Chuck, was sitting at his workbench tooling belts. After watching him for awhile I said, "I could do that." He laid out a fresh strip of leather and backed away from the bench, handing me the mallet. I wetted the leather like I'd seen him do and selected a stamp from his rack. Putting the stamp to the leather and pounding, I repeated his design layout but put my own spin and flourishes on it. It took me 20 minutes to tool my first belt -- I was hooked! He was so impressed with that he handed me ten dollars and claimed the belt for himself, then offered me a job. I worked for Chuck for several months, using a portion of each paycheck to start my own tool collection. Silo Leather burned down at the end of that summer, but by then I had enough knowledge and tools to segue right into craft shows. Over the years I've morphed from a hippy leather crafter, through my western leather phase while I lived in Texas and into my current style, which leans strongly toward the Native American. I've been a fixture on the Great Lakes powwow trail for over a decade, and my scope of what appeals to men widens in that area. My fringed deer hide bags, for example, are considered purses outside of the powwow world and sell only to women. At powwows, though, they're looked at as bags and men wear bags too!</p>
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="430" caption="Leather Wristband"]<img class="grey_border " src="http://ny-image2.etsy.com/il_430xN.29773202.jpg" alt="Leather Wristband - Black - Geometric Weave Design" width="430" height="321" />[/caption]
<p><strong>How do you get the word out about your shop?<br />
</strong>Well there's the internet of course. I'm pretty new to blogging, but I've found it to be an innovative and exciting way to be seen. I try to keep my blog away from being overtly commercial, focusing instead on some of my processes, some info about leather itself and a few glimpses into the life of an itinerate artisan. That sort of sums up my approach to business, I think -- let people see what it is and show them quality and dedication, and the goods will sell themselves.</p>
<p><strong>What's your creative process?<br />
</strong>One of the more challenging things to me is the waiting time involved in my craft. There are a lot of "drying" periods before, between and after many of the processes involved, so I usually have several different projects active simultaneously. It's a little hectic and harried at times -- rather like cooking a large meal and needing to plan for everything to get done at the same time. And of course, there's always lots of coffee involved!</p>
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="430" caption="Medicine Wheel - Anishinabek Traditions "]<a href="http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=13183466"><img class="grey_border " src="http://ny-image3.etsy.com/il_430xN.31366159.jpg" alt="" width="430" height="473" /></a>[/caption]
<p><strong>What do you want people to know about your work?<br />
</strong>Everything is hand-hewn. Very rarely do I use a sewing machine on my leather. One exception would be the inside pockets of my portfolios. I prefer hand-stitching, hand cutting, hand everything! That way every item is unique and made to last for years!</p>
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<item>
<title><![CDATA[SD top picks 7/16/2008]]></title>
<link>http://seattledirt.wordpress.com/?p=381</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 17:19:31 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>brandibratrude</dc:creator>
<guid>http://seattledirt.wordpress.com/?p=381</guid>
<description><![CDATA[
photo credit
Sightline Daily | Northwest News That Matters
Top Picks of the Day
1. Energy Tsunami C]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img class="alignnone" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1337/1151347114_763f764dd2.jpg?v=0" alt="" width="500" height="337" /></p>
<p><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/chazwags/1151347114/" target="_blank">photo credit</a></p>
<p><a href="http://daily.sightline.org/" target="_blank">Sightline Daily &#124; Northwest News That Matters</a></p>
<p>Top Picks of the Day</p>
<p>1. <a href="http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/national/1155ap_wise_men_energy.html?source=rss" target="_blank">Energy Tsunami Coming: Ride the Wave or Get Crushed</a> - Seattle Post-Intelligencer 07/16/2008</p>
<p>2. <a href="http://missoulian.com/articles/2008/07/16/business/biz69.txt" target="_blank">Montana Wind Rights on the Rise in Hot Spots</a> - Missoula Missoulian 07/16/2008</p>
<p>3. <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/07/16/BUII11PLV8.DTL&#38;feed=rss.business" target="_blank">Solar Industry's Challenge is to Lower Cost</a> - San Francisco Chronicle 07/16/2008</p>
<p>4. <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=92559699&#38;ft=1&#38;f=1001" target="_blank">High Corn Prices Cast Shadow Over Ethanol Plants</a> - NPR 07/15/2008</p>
<p>5. <a href="http://news.opb.org/article/2600-natural-gas-prices-expected-skyrocket-winter/" target="_blank">Natural Gas Prices Going Up in Oregon</a> - Oregon Public Broadcasting 07/16/2008</p>
<p>6. <a href="http://www.canada.com/vancouversun/news/editorial/story.html?id=a906af88-6dd2-478e-8469-1cbd21ac76ef&#38;k=84240" target="_blank">Views: Include First Nations in Green Power Projects</a> - Vancouver Sun 07/16/2008</p>
<p>7. <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2008/07/15/national/w111858D66.DTL&#38;feed=rss.news" target="_blank">EPA Unveils First Rules on Carbon Storage</a> - San Francisco Chronicle 07/16/2008</p>
<p>8. <a href="http://www.seattleweekly.com/2008-07-16/news/will-development-around-light-rail-gentrify-neighborhoods" target="_blank">Will Light Rail Gentrify Seattle Neighborhoods?</a><a href="http://www.seattleweekly.com/2008-07-16/news/will-development-around-light-rail-gentrify-neighborhoods" target="_blank"> </a>- Seattle Weekly 07/16/2008</p>
<p>9. <a href="http://blog.oregonlive.com/breakingnews/2008/07/war_between_bikes_and_cars_not.html" target="_blank">War Between Bikes and Cars? Not in Portland</a> - Portland Oregonian 07/16/2008</p>
<p>10. <a href="http://www.sacbee.com/110/story/1085496.html" target="_blank">Views: Drive Less, Pay Less</a> - Sacramento Bee 07/16/2008</p>
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<item>
<title><![CDATA[NAWHERC Videos Online]]></title>
<link>http://shareinc.wordpress.com/?p=126</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:11:02 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>sharecentral</dc:creator>
<guid>http://shareinc.wordpress.com/?p=126</guid>
<description><![CDATA[http://www.youtube.com/NAWHERC
Native American Women&#8217;s Health Education Resource Center Videos]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/NAWHERC" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/NAWHERC</a><br />
<strong>Native American Women's Health Education Resource Center Videos<br />
</strong>Include:<br />
Indigenous Women's Reproductive Health Rights<br />
Teen Dating Violence in Native Communities<br />
Youth &#38; Sexual Health in South Dakota<br />
HIV Cultural Competency<br />
Legislative Issues &#38; Concerns</p>
<p><a href="http://www.youtube.com/NAWHERC" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/NAWHERC</a></p>
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<item>
<title><![CDATA[Listening/Music Activity: Native American Rap]]></title>
<link>http://ericnunnally.wordpress.com/?p=3</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 15:02:28 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>ericnunnally</dc:creator>
<guid>http://ericnunnally.wordpress.com/?p=3</guid>
<description><![CDATA[
Listening/Music Activity 3
English/Language Art Standard:
3.7.10        Compare ideas and points of]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style='text-align:center; display: block;'><object width='425' height='350'><param name='movie' value='http://www.youtube.com/v/PIyCDr_ojV4'></param><param name='wmode' value='transparent'></param><embed src='http://www.youtube.com/v/PIyCDr_ojV4&rel=0' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' width='425' height='350'></embed></object></span></p>
<p><strong>Listening/Music Activity 3</strong></p>
<p>English/Language Art Standard:</p>
<p>3.7.10        Compare ideas and points of view expressed in broadcast and print media or on the Internet.</p>
<p>Pair each student with a partner. Direct the students to the Educational website at http://ericnunnally.wordpress.com. Have the students click on the link to view the Native American Rap music video. Ask the students to listen carefully and look closely at the video. After seeing and hearing the video once, ask the students to return to the _ website and click the link to view the lyrics to Tru Rez Crew's I'm A Lucky One. Have the students watch the video again, this time following along with the lyrics. Have partners pose questions to each other based on the information provided by the lyrics. Have partners discuss the video and the lyrics, in particular the artwork used and the people and places mentioned.</p>
<p><strong>BONUS:</strong> Have the children make up their own rap about the Native American experience and perform it for the class.</p>
<p><strong>Lyrics:</strong></p>
<p>I’m A Lucky One (Tru Rez Crew)</p>
<p>This is for my Native American people, nation wide,</p>
<p>I’m A lucky one, my parents were always there<br />
I’m amazed with their ways, made me bear to care<br />
cherish, like a 24 karat gold I wear it,<br />
let me share every time that there’s peace in the air.<br />
Warm like fleece when our teeth we bear<br />
If I’m smilin' when I’m wiling then it must be a dare<br />
If you bringin' up beef, native pull up a chair<br />
I’m the chief at this table and able to hold your stare<br />
No relief when we start, life is never fair<br />
You could get caught in the snare like you got caught in the ware.<br />
Adrenaline flows and noses start to flare<br />
I know what you're thinking cause I use to be there<br />
I could go to any reservation in the world<br />
Have respect for every man and woman boy and girl<br />
I flaunt for sure cause I’m an entrepreneur<br />
But if you prefer I’m humble like the one that you were.</p>
<p>Chorus:<br />
(I’m a lucky one)<br />
Don’t look back don’t you ever look back don’t look back (and I wont look back) x4</p>
<p>Got to look towards the future</p>
<p>I blame no one, all that i can change is my self<br />
but i wasted out the week instead of watchin' my health<br />
Instead of climbin' the peak I just dwelled in my wealth<br />
I fell in ways i seek through the pain I felt<br />
reminiscing the past, where the relationships melt<br />
All the seasons done past when I last lost count<br />
I got no reason to laugh though I’m the last to pout<br />
and I carry lots of flow, no matter what the cost.</p>
<p>We spent and flossed, when we chose to covet<br />
And we drank it soft, when we rose above it<br />
All our paths were crossed and like a rose we loved it<br />
Yo I’ll meet you at the summit when we spit flows in public<br />
Never have to climb cause we once were kings<br />
Like my native men well locked down till spring<br />
He’ll be back a year older when the birds start to sing<br />
and we’ll change the whole world with the hope we bring</p>
<p>Bridge- This is dedicated to those among us<br />
Who rose above us because they chose to love us<br />
And when we didn’t push ourselves they were first to shove us<br />
Sent from the sky to give birth to the toughest x4</p>
<p>Yeah, keep your heads held high and never ever look back<br />
CHORUS</p>
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<title><![CDATA[MAKA - Earth Family]]></title>
<link>http://cedarstreetwriter.wordpress.com/?p=182</link>
<pubDate>Wed, 16 Jul 2008 05:51:20 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>cedarstreetwriter</dc:creator>
<guid>http://cedarstreetwriter.wordpress.com/?p=182</guid>
<description><![CDATA[
Watercolor
Imagination


maka.earthfamily©annieoverton.endlessthreadsoftime
]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://cedarstreetwriter.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/maka-earth-family.jpg"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-183" src="http://cedarstreetwriter.wordpress.com/files/2008/07/maka-earth-family.jpg" alt="" width="470" height="646" /></a></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>Watercolor</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;"><strong>Imagination</strong></p>
<p style="text-align:center;">
<p><!--[if gte mso 9]&#62;     &#60;![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]&#62;  Normal 0   false false false         &#60;![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]&#62;   &#60;![endif]--></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">maka.earthfamily©annieoverton.endlessthreadsoftime</p>
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<title><![CDATA[He Sapa New Life Vacation Bible School!]]></title>
<link>http://danielstidbits.wordpress.com/?p=20</link>
<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2008 21:14:22 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>danf.pa</dc:creator>
<guid>http://danielstidbits.wordpress.com/?p=20</guid>
<description><![CDATA[This week we are enjoying working with the fine folks from He Sapa New Life and Black Hills Communit]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>This week we are enjoying working with the fine folks from He Sapa New Life and Black Hills Community Church at the Vacation Bible School at the He Sapa New Life “barn.” This year the children are learning about the treasures in God’s word with the help of two puppets, the wise and thoughtful turtle, Keya, and the impulsive Mastinkula the rabbit. In the first adventure, Mastinkula is digging for treasure in a sand pile, and Keya is trying help Mastinkula realize that the treasure that we should be searching for is not earthly treasure, but heavenly treasure, and that the stories in the bible are treasure. But the rabbit won’t listen, and keeps following her map.</p>
<p>Outside, after three tries, the men got up a full-size tipi, which was pretty neat. During the closing, we began learning the Lakota words to Jesus Loves Me.<br />
Please pray that the hearts of the children in the community would be touched.</p>
<p><a href="http://hesapanewlife.blogspot.com/">hesapanewlife.blogspot.com</a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[THE SAGA OF CRYING WOMAN]]></title>
<link>http://fieratenkiller.wordpress.com/?p=8</link>
<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:49:21 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>fieratenkiller</dc:creator>
<guid>http://fieratenkiller.wordpress.com/?p=8</guid>
<description><![CDATA[
It is said that when the world was young and when animals could talk that there lived in a certain ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-size:small;font-family:Times New Roman;"></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">It is said that when the world was young and when animals could talk that there lived in a certain village a weaver who was called Crying Woman. Crying Woman had a special gift. It is said that when Crying Woman wept she could take her tears and spin them into threads that she<span>  </span>used to weave the most beautiful blankets. You must not think, my dear friends, that Crying Woman was a sad person. No my friends, Crying Woman cried when she saw the beauty of the sunrise. She cried when she held a newborn baby in her arms. She cried when something filled her heart with happiness, and she cried when she saw something of great beauty.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">The blankets that Crying Woman wove from her tears were in all the colors of the rainbow, and they glistened and sparkled like the grass wet with dew, and they were as sturdy and light as spider silk.<span>  </span>It is said that each blanket had unique and mysterious powers. One blanket might grant a young woman her wish for a new love. Another might protect an infant from all harm. And yet another might keep its user warm in winter and cool in summer. People from all over came to ask Crying Woman to weave one of her blankets for them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">As Crying Woman worked on her weaving frame she sang. Crying Woman always sang as she worked. Crying Woman’s voice was heard all through the village as she wove and the good people of the village would feel a little of her happiness and a little of her peace as they went about their own daily chores and activities. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">One day as Crying Woman was weaving Bear came to the village. Bear had been attracted by the sound of her voice and was curious what sort of bird might be making such music. When He found Crying Woman he sat down to watch her weave and listen to her song. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">After some time Bear spoke.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">                 </span><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"Woman," said Bear. "Your singing has made me hungry. Give me something to eat."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Crying Woman stopped her singing. She stopped her weaving. She tilted her head slightly and looked at Bear with a puzzled expression.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"Bear," she said. "What would you have to eat? I have some fry bread and honey. Would that satisfy you?"</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"No honey would be as sweet as the music from your lips. Nor would bread would be as filling as your pure soul," said Bear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Crying Woman thought silently for a moment.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"Then what would you ask of me?" she asked, finally, "For I cannot give you either my soul or place my song in a jar for you."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"I could eat you, and then I would have both," replied Bear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"That would not satisfy you in the way that you hope."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"Maybe not," said Bear. "But in the attempt I would at least remove this terrible desire."</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">"Is your need so strong that you would destroy the very gift which blesses you?"</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Bear growled. Then he stood, baring his teeth. His lips pulled back in a snarl. He began to approach Crying Woman.<span>  </span>His deadly intent was clear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Crying Woman smiled. Then she tilted her head some more and bared her throat to Bear.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>  </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="color:black;font-family:Papyrus;"></span></p>
<p><span style="color:black;font-family:Papyrus;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Bear lunged, and his teeth sank into Crying Woman’s throat, and began to shake her in his terrible mouth. Her blood spilled upon the ground and ran in a pool beneath her weaving frame. She slumped to the ground, her sightless eyes still staring, the smile still upon her lips. She had not uttered a sound.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Bear then reared back, preparing to fall upon her once again to tear her body to pieces.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">A blow to Bear’s back stopped him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">He spun around in fury to discover a circle of the people of the village holding clubs and axes and heavy tools. Bear made an angry swipe with his sharp claws. To his shock and dismay the only blood he drew was his own as his claw came in contact with a large knife. He reared up on his hind legs so that he towered menacingly above the heads of the villagers.<span>  </span>The pain in his wounded claw only deepened his rage. He did not see the spear coming that was thrust into his side. Surprised and injured again, Bear fell forward upon the nearest of his attackers, prepared to rend that man apart. The man fell backward upon the ground.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Stop it!” said an ancient yet commanding voice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Bear dropped his feet, suddenly silent, at the sound that voice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">The circle backed away.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">There stood an elderly woman, Etsi<span>  </span>Selu-unenudi.<span>  </span>She was the most senior of the elders of the village, and the most respected. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Etsi Selu-unenudi’s long, snow white hair fell in a braid down her back. Her clear, dark eyes flashed. Even though she was small and slight of frame and leaned on her walking stick, there was something about her stature and her expression that commanded immediate authority. There was no doubt by her tone of voice that she was a person to be reckoned with. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Bringing her fearless, dark eyes into the gaze of Bear she spoke again.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“I have said stop it. And I mean stop it. How dare you come into our village with such evil.!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Bear suddenly sat down on his haunches and hung his head.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Etsi Selu-unenudi then turned around slowly and faced the villagers, gazing into each of their eyes in turn, before speaking once more.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“And all of you!” she said. “All of you have done no better. Don’t you realize that such hatred and violence is like a grass fire that once you start it becomes hard to put out? Unless you stop now, this will become a flame that will burn you all.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">The villager who had been knocked down by Bear slowly got back to his feet. He was a young man by the name of Amayi Gaduhga. He brushed himself off slowly. And then he addressed Etsi Selu-unenudi.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Mother Cornsilk, with all respect, how are we to protect ourselves from such creatures if we do not return blood for blood? Surely you see what Bear has done to Crying Woman. And surely you see what Bear was about to do to me.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Raising her walking stick and gently poking Amayi Gaduhga in the chest she said, “I know your fear, Standing Water. But your fear is not your intelligence, and your hatred is a poor guide. You cannot think with fear, and you cannot see with hatred.” She lowered her walking stick.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Take Crying Woman into my house, and let Bear go back to the forest to nurse his wounds,” Etsi Selu-unenudi commanded.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Four of the young women of the village gathered up Crying Woman’s still bleeding body and carried it into the house of Etsi Selu-unenudi.<span>  </span>There they began to bathe Crying Woman and to dress her in clean clothes to prepare her for burial.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Etsi-unenudi<span>  </span>stood and waited until all of the villagers had returned to their homes or occupations. Bear limped off into the woods.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">The Etsi-unenudi took the blanket down off Crying Woman’s weaving frame and folded it over her arm. As she walked slowly towards her own house, she stopped for a moment, bent over, and pulled the leaf off a small plant that was by the side of the path. Straightening up, she smiled, and began walking slowly again. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;"></span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Etsi Selu-unenudi entered her house. Crying Woman’s body lay on the floor.<span>  </span>She was washed, and was laid out in clean clothing.<span>  </span>Her finest moccasins were on her feet.<span>  </span>A cloth band decorated in shells was about her throat, covering Bear’s teeth marks. The smoke of burning cedar filled the house. The four young women who had tended to Crying Woman’s body stood to one side.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“You have done well, my daughters,” said Etsi Selu-unenudi as she entered the house. She stepped slowly towards Crying Woman’s body. She paused for a moment, studying it, then turning towards the smallest of the young women,<span>  </span>a woman named Didiktoli – meaning <em>Eyes-of-All-of –Us – </em>she handed Crying Woman’s unfinished blanket to her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Take this blanket and sleep under it tonight,” said Etsi Selu-unenudi. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Yes, Mother Cornsilk,” the young woman said, averting her eyes so as not to show disrespect. Didiktoli took the blanket<span>  </span>and tucked it under<span>  </span>her arm. She started to leave.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“No,” said Etsi Selu-unenudi, raising her hand. “You will stay here in my house tonight.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">”As you say, Mother Cornsilk.,” <em><span> </span></em>said Didiktoli. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Didiktoli was a short and slender young woman. She was just barely past the age of fourteen.<span>  </span>She wore her hair in two, long braids which hung down across her shoulders and over her small round breasts, framing her round face. Didiktoli was neither married nor betrothed. She lived with her mother, S-qua-le-wali –<em>Nightingale</em> who was a daughter of the Aniwodi – <em>The Paint Clan.</em> Didiktoli had never chosen a husband, and S-qua-le-wali had never pushed her to marry. Didiktoli<span>  </span>was a carver of flutes. She was not the most skilled of flute makers. She had not practiced the art very long, but her flutes, it is said, were playable. Parents sometimes gave her flutes to their very young children as toys. Didiktoli did not mind. She knew that someday with more practice the quality of her flutes would improve.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“You will return to this house at sundown,” Etsi Selu-unenudi continued speaking to Didiktoli. “You will lie here, next to Crying Woman, and you will sleep with this blanket across you and her. I will sleep just outside the door under the stars.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Didiktoli was horrified.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Surely, Mother, you will not allow a dead body to lie in your house through the night,” said Didiktoli. “ Do not our customs say the body must be buried by sundown?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“There is a time for customs, and there is a time for prudence,” said Etsi Selu-unenudi. “ Tonight you will sleep with Crying Woman, and she will be buried at sunrise.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“But Mother Cornsilk, what about her spirit? What if her spirit should harm me during the night?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“My daughter, no harm will come to you. Would Crying Woman have harmed you in life?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“No, she was the sweetest of souls,” Didiktoli replied.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">“Then why fear her in death?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">That evening Didiktoli entered the house and lay down next to the body of Crying Woman. She spread the blanket across Crying Woman’s silent form and snuggled up to her cold body so she could fit under the blanket, too. Didiktoli was sure the house was now haunted, and she was half afraid despite the assurances of Etsi Selu-unenudi. But fatigue overcame her fears, and she slowly began to drift off to sleep.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Crack!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">A sound startled Didiktoli awake.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;"></span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><strong><span style="text-decoration:underline;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"></span></span></strong></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">          Didiktoli sat up with a start. Her heart was racing. She held her breath, straining to hear whatever sound might have awakened her. She didn’t hear it again. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and carefully slipped out from under the blanket. The night air felt chill against her naked body. Slowly and cautiously she crawled around the still form of Crying Woman’s body.<span>  </span>A faint sliver of moonlight crept through a crack in the door and made a slender path across the hard dirt floor. Didiktoli made her way on all fours towards the door.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Crack!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>There it was.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span><span>     </span>But where was the sound coming from?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                                                </span>Was it coming from outside, did she just hear it from behind her?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                                                                                </span>Crack! <span>                               </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0 0 0 3in;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Crack! <span>                               </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:0.5in;line-height:150%;margin:0 0 0 4in;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;">Crack!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>She could not control her breathing now. Her heart and her breathing were racing. She slowly turned her head over her left shoulder. Her eyes followed the thin path of moonlight as it fell across the floor and across the dead form of Crying Woman.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Something moved.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Before Didiktoli could check herself the words burst from her lips, “Mother Cornsilk! Mother Cornsilk! Help me! Something is in here with us!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>The door flew open, casting a flood of moonlight through the house.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Etsi Selu-unenudi stood silhouetted there in the door frame. She was leaning on her walking stick.<span>  </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“My daughter, has something awakened you?” Etsi Selu-unenudi asked in a gentle voice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“Mother Cornsilk,” said Didiktoli, “Something made a sound. Something moved.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Etsi Selu-unenudi squinted. Then her eyes slowly widened.<span>  </span>She allowed her eyes to adjust to the darker interior.<span>  </span>She studied the corpse on the floor, and the rumpled blanket that lay askew across<span>  </span>the body.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“What did you see, Eyes-of-all-of-us?” Etsi Selu-unenudi asked. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“I don’t know,” said Didiktoli as she turned around towards the interior, sat down and folded her legs. She felt the cool outside air on her naked back and hips. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“I heard a sound,” said Didiktoli.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Etsi Selu-unenudi walked slowly into her house, scanning the room with her eyes. She saw nothing out of the ordinary.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Then she heard what Didiktoli had heard.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Crack!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                                </span>Crack!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>She slowly turned her face upward.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“I think, Eyes-of-all-of-us, that you will find that no ghosts walk tonight. I see by the moonlight glistening in his eyes that Brother Packrat has come to visit us tonight.<span>  </span>I think if you turn your gaze into the rafters you will see his eyes watching us. Go back to sleep. Here, this will make it easier. Chew this.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Etsi Selu-unenudi handed her a small leaf that she had picked that afternoon. Didiktoli took the leaf and chewed it, but she felt nothing immediately.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Etsi Selu-unenudi chuckled, then turned and walked slowly out of the house, gently closing the door behind her. Didiktoli took her place beside the body of Crying Woman and drifted off to sleep.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Didiktoli woke up the following morning after sleeping soundly the rest of the night. She was surprised to find she had slept with her arm across the body of Crying Woman.<span>  </span>Didiktoli quickly dressed and prepared herself for Crying Woman’s burial.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Crying Woman was buried in the presence of the whole village as the sun broke over the horizon.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>Didiktoli was walking back to her mother’s house when she was joined by Etsi Selu-unenudi who seemed to have no trouble keeping pace with her.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“Mother Cornsilk, I do not understand why you had me sleep with the corpse last night.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>“Time and prudence will reveal things in due time.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>When Didiktoli arrived at her own home, her mother, S-qua-le-wali, was waiting for her. Without saying a word, S-qua-le-wali, handed Didiktoli a folded blanket as she entered the house. It was Crying Woman’s blanket. Didiktoli was surprised, because she thought that she remembered Crying Woman was buried in that blanket. Didiktoli entered the house and wearily sat down on a bench. She set the folded blanket by her side. Exhausted and sad, Didiktoli began to weep silently.<span>  </span>The warm tears cascaded down her cheeks.<span>  </span>Her hand dropped down to her side as she wept. Her fingers touched a basket with recently finished flutes in it. Without looking she pulled one flute out of the basket and held it to her lips, but she did not blow. Her tears were now cascading down her face and ran onto the flute. She blew gently and tentatively on the flute, not intending to play any particular tune or note.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>S-qua-le-wali was outside grinding corn when she was startled by the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. She stopped beating the corn with her pestle and listened. The sound was like all of the birdsong of the earth joined in harmony. The sound was like a thousand sorrows and a thousand joys. If the rainbows could sing and the colors of the sunrises and the colors of the sunsets had sound, that is what S-qua-le-wali heard that morning.<span>   </span>S-qua-le-wali gradually realized that the sound was coming from her own house. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>The music floated through the whole village. Whatever people were doing they stopped to listen to the music. Soon all the people gathered outside the house of S-qua-le-wali entranced by the music.<span>  </span><span>            </span>“Where does this music come from?” the people asked S-qua-le-wali. One of the women of the village boldly strode to the door of the house and looked in, and then she turned and said, “Nightingale, it is your own girl who is playing such music.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>It is said that from that day forward whenever Didiktoli wept, whatever her tears touched was blessed. She wept at the beauty of a sunrise or a sunset. And any flute she made, when she played it for the first time, she would weep, and the tears touching the flute made the flute sound like a thousand sorrows and a thousand joys.<span>  </span>The birds would stop their singing to listen to one of Didiktoli’s flutes being played.<span>  </span>The music of Didiktoli’s flutes always brought peace and a sense of happiness to whoever played them, and to whoever happened to be listening.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>It is said that one day many years later Bear was walking<span>  </span>near the village when he heard the music from one of Didiktoli’s flutes, and he remembered the terrible thing he had done years before, and that he was moved to tears and wept until all the anger and all the misery and all the meanness was cleansed from him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span>It is also said that from that day forward Didiktoli always slept under Crying Woman’s blanket, and she always slept well. For you see, my friends, Crying Woman lived on and was found when ever someone played a flute made by Didiktoli.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"><span>                </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:150%;margin:0;"><span style="font-family:Papyrus;"> </span></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Terrified]]></title>
<link>http://wishinghopingpraying.wordpress.com/?p=60</link>
<pubDate>Tue, 15 Jul 2008 08:21:04 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>wishinghopingpraying</dc:creator>
<guid>http://wishinghopingpraying.wordpress.com/?p=60</guid>
<description><![CDATA[I have never been scared during a cycle. Anxious, excited, hopeful,nervous sure, never scared. There]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>I have never been scared during a cycle. Anxious, excited, hopeful,nervous sure, never scared. There is a lump of fear stuck between my throat and stomach. Nothing can move it. I am utterly terrified.</strong></p>
<p><strong>S is a wreck. She is appeared crying and trembling at my side an hour ago. This really is our last shot for who knows how long. We have bled ourselves dry for this cycle. We just dropped a thousand dollars on sperm... a thousand dollars we could hardly part with. We did it though, hearts in our throat we ordered from the new bank. Poor S will subject herself to another vag cam viewing tomorrow and together we will subject ourselves to the much  disliked Dr. M.</strong></p>
<p><strong>If someone asked why we do all this, I would say for love. For the love of a child not yet conceived and because we have so much of it to give.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Pardon the TMI, but I think I might throw up. My mind plays on a loop all the F-ups of dear Dr.M the past 6 months. What if what if what if what if???????? I cannot stop the what ifs. I can't sleep, I am actually ill.</strong></p>
<p><strong>I am trying so hard to cover every base this cycle it's absurd. Injectables, trigger, monitoring, green tea until ovulation, aspirin, POM juice, pineapple after IUI, warm feet in the TWW, red warming foods, eggs,prayer, positive thinking,visualization, new bank and sperm and finally, a picture of a Native American fertility charm taped above our bed.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Please bring us some wonderful news and a cooperative, understanding Dr. M tomorrow. Please bring us our miracle. PLEASE.</strong></p>
<p><strong><span style="color:#cc99ff;">"And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."<br />
</span></strong></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Carins]]></title>
<link>http://woodennickel.wordpress.com/?p=131</link>
<pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 15:28:37 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Donald Harbour</dc:creator>
<guid>http://woodennickel.wordpress.com/?p=131</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Across a palo verde covered mesa,
Alone I take a sun baked trail.
Animal trace disturbs the path,
Th]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Across a palo verde covered mesa,<br />
Alone I take a sun baked trail.<br />
Animal trace disturbs the path,<br />
There is only lingering residue,<br />
Contemplation is gravel underfoot.<br />
Where does it lead?<br />
Who is to know?<br />
Not a visible sign is seen,<br />
No cairns to mark the way.<br />
Before me a faint depression,<br />
An imprint upon the ground,<br />
Ancient, beckoning, leading on,<br />
My steps shuffle across the stone.<br />
Pressed against a rocky face,<br />
I clasp the life chiseled there,<br />
Tiny hand holds smooth with use,<br />
Spiritual guides shape a soul’s journey.<br />
Am I being tried, tested?<br />
Am I worthy?<br />
One more step and the way is clear.<br />
Before me rises a cavern of my beliefs.<br />
Filled with the shaped stones of memories,<br />
Secure from the outside,<br />
Guarded from the invasion of time.<br />
Ghosts haunt this place,<br />
Voices speak from a gurgling spring,<br />
The laughter of lives echoes the canyon.<br />
The walls an art gallery of dreams,<br />
Painted images forgotten in stillness live.<br />
Stepping through a doorway,<br />
It is now as it was then,<br />
As it will always be.<br />
Implements shaped of clay and wood,<br />
The broken pottery of creation,<br />
Scattered pieces of passage,<br />
Primitive and pure the moment looms.<br />
Sadness fogs my heart,<br />
A great aching pain of loss.<br />
I weep for their passing.<br />
The wind whistles through ancient stone,<br />
The people whisper with it.<br />
They are watching.<br />
Or, is it the heat of the day,<br />
Shimmering visions to trick the mind?<br />
The walls of this citadel<br />
Silent witnesses to the ages.<br />
My presence a violation,<br />
I have lifted the sarcophagus lid,<br />
Peering in at a desiccated corpus,<br />
A reflection of tomorrow.<br />
With a heavy heart head bowed,<br />
I retreat as I had come.<br />
Making sure my passage is unseen,<br />
Only footprints left in the dust.<br />
Footsteps will be eaten by life,<br />
What the soul knows cannot be devoured.</p>
<p>Copyright: 2008, Donald Harbour</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Local CT Events]]></title>
<link>http://esoterickat.wordpress.com/?p=137</link>
<pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2008 00:43:28 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>esoterickat</dc:creator>
<guid>http://esoterickat.wordpress.com/?p=137</guid>
<description><![CDATA[You don&#8217;t want to miss these hoppin local happenings!
You can find me and my fellow CT Etsy Te]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>You don't want to miss these hoppin local happenings!</strong></p>
<div><strong>You can find me and my fellow CT Etsy Team members at the following events strutting our handmade goodies:</strong></div>
<div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~Every Tuesday Sandy Hook Organic Farmer's Market 2 - 6 pm</strong><strong><br />
</strong></p>
<div><strong>~July 12-13 Sailfest in New London</strong></div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 13 The Space in Hamden for the Project Puppy Indie Craft Show - A wonderful event to help support abused street dogs (satos) in the streets of puerto rico.All proceeds are going to the search and rescue efforts of the Amigos de los animales.  </strong><a title="http://www.freewebs.com/projectpuppy" href="http://www.freewebs.com/projectpuppy"><strong>http://www.freewebs.com/projectpuppy</strong></a></div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 13 "Pickle Palooza" at the Coventry Farmers' Market </strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;line-height:14px;font-family:Verdana;border-collapse:collapse;"><strong><span style="font-size:x-small;font-family:Comic Sans MS;">11 am to 2 pm</span></strong> </span></p>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 14 Hartford Billings Forge Farmer's Market 11am-2pm</strong></div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 14th (and every other Monday after that through October) Trout Brook Farmer's Market which is held at the Whole Foods Market on Raymond Road in West Hartford</strong></div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 19 Celebrate East Lyme Day  </strong></div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 26-27  Old Saybrook Chamber of Commerce Art Festival  10-5 on Main Street by the Katharine Hepburn Cultural Arts Center</strong></div>
</div>
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:12px;line-height:14px;font-family:Verdana;border-collapse:collapse;"><strong><span style="font-size:x-small;font-family:Comic Sans MS;">on the grounds of the Nathan Hale Homestead, 2299 South Street, Coventry, CT</span></strong></span></div>
<div><a title="http://www.coventryfarmersmarket.com/" href="http://www.coventryfarmersmarket.com/"><strong><span style="font-size:x-small;font-family:Comic Sans MS;">http://www.coventryfarmersmarket.com/</span></strong></a></div>
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</div>
<div><strong></strong></div>
<div><strong>~July 26 Poetry is Music-A Celebration of Life 7pm-? Come see Muti-NAMMY Award-winning Native American Flutist Joseph FireCrow,the Steve Dunn Band, the mesmerizing Belly Dancer Lydia, the enchanting Tahitian Hula Dancer Tiare, and the Award-winning Poet Ameen-Storm Abo-Hamzy, among many others. All under a sky of fireworks and for free!!!! <a title="http://www.artsnwct.org/event_detail.php?ID=3456" href="http://www.artsnwct.org/event_detail.php?ID=3456">Event Detail</a> </strong></div>
<p><a href="http://www.freewebs.com/projectpuppy/"></a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[W.I.P - Work in Progress]]></title>
<link>http://carla65.wordpress.com/?p=82</link>
<pubDate>Sun, 13 Jul 2008 17:30:48 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Carla Trujillo</dc:creator>
<guid>http://carla65.wordpress.com/?p=82</guid>
<description><![CDATA[             
Until now, my assemblages have not had a Native American  theme or image]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://carla65.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/wip-work-in-progress-7-20081.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-81" src="http://carla65.wordpress.com/files/2008/07/wip-work-in-progress-7-20081.jpg?w=300" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a>             <a href="http://carla65.files.wordpress.com/2008/07/wip-work-in-progress-7-2008-a1.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-80" src="http://carla65.wordpress.com/files/2008/07/wip-work-in-progress-7-2008-a1.jpg?w=300" alt="" width="300" height="225" /></a></p>
<p>Until now, my assemblages have not had a Native American  theme or image. Came across this Buffalo nickle and was inspired to create a piece of art work. I've been working on this slowly for a while now</p>
<p>because it kept changing. BIG difference in the design versus actually making the piece work when putting it together. At first I wasn't too happy with the way it was coming out, but stepping away from it for a while and contemplating my next move, it started to grow on me. Stay tune for the next phase!</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Tensions|Between|2 Brethren]]></title>
<link>http://indigoblu.wordpress.com/?p=111</link>
<pubDate>Sun, 13 Jul 2008 06:21:22 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>indigoblu</dc:creator>
<guid>http://indigoblu.wordpress.com/?p=111</guid>
<description><![CDATA[Polemically,  when the issue of (A)frican/(A)frican (A)merican relations is broached, most will arg]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;"><strong>Polemically</strong>, <span> </span>when the issue of (<strong>A)frican/(A)frican (A)merican relations</strong> is broached, most will argue that due to <strong>cultural differences</strong> between As and AAs, there is <strong>little</strong>  to <strong>nothing</strong> they have <strong>in common</strong> and therefore,<strong> any interaction</strong> between the two is <strong>limited</strong> and<strong> too much</strong> interaction will only led to <strong>failure</strong> of some kind.</span></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;"><a href="http://indigoblu.files.wordpress.com/2008/06/af11.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-101" src="http://indigoblu.wordpress.com/files/2008/06/af11.jpg?w=265" alt="" width="265" height="300" /></a>As I look around into all the <strong>various</strong> and <strong>diverse</strong> African faces while watching NGC (National Geographic), they’re in <strong>traditional</strong> clothing and surrounded by all the <strong>cultural</strong> things unique to them, and I notice that many of <strong>these people</strong> look <strong>just like or very similar to</strong> the <strong>black</strong> faces I see around me here in the US <strong>everyday</strong>, who are <strong>not natives</strong> of Africa as for <strong>4-5 generations</strong>, they have been native to <strong>American</strong> soil. Namely, <strong>African Americans</strong>.</span></span></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">Why are some Africans extremely critical of and largely marginalize African Americans?</span></span></span></p>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">As noted in the <strong>first</strong> paragraph, many think/claim that due to <strong>cultural</strong> differences, it is inevitable they would only <strong>clash</strong> with <strong>African Americans</strong> and due to <strong>propensity</strong>, they stay with “<em>their own</em>”.<span>  </span>However, I suspect that is <strong>mendacity</strong> and it has <strong>much less</strong> to do with <strong>culture</strong> and <strong>much more</strong> to do with them being <strong>black</strong> <strong>Americans</strong>. If I am <strong>incorrect</strong>, why is there an <strong>ever increasing</strong> number of <strong>Africans</strong> marrying and having strong ties with <strong>white</strong> Americans? There has to <strong>defiantly</strong> be a culture clash/barrier in this case as well, does it not? Many can <strong>marry</strong> white but can not even <strong>form an authentic friendship</strong> with an African American. So I find this <strong>invalid</strong>. <span> </span>To be unfeigned, marrying white,<strong> in many African minds</strong>, means <strong>success</strong>, a boast of <strong>ego</strong> and/or <strong>status</strong> in a <strong>white privilege</strong> world.</span></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">With that being said, Africans don’t identify with <strong>blacks because, black in America, is a negative connotation by convention</strong>, so they tend to try and identify more, <span> </span>almost in an <strong>idolatrous</strong>, hubris way, with their <strong>tribes</strong>/country; the problem with this is…in America, <strong>no one cares about tribes</strong>. If your skin is <strong>black</strong>, you are seen as <strong>black</strong>. You may or may not be treated <strong>better or worse</strong> for being a <strong>foreigner from Africa</strong>, but you are still seen as a <strong>black person</strong> nonetheless. </span></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">I think I may have heard all the <strong>stereotypes</strong> by now: “<em>The ancestors of African Americans struggled for what? <span> </span>For their women to be loose and have children out of wedlock and the males have children with four or five different women they are not married to, for them to be loud and destructive, call their women “bitches” and “whores”, wear the equivalent of a college education on their ears, to sell drugs on the street, kill each other, yell and curse, get locked up and blame “whitey” for everything</em>?” Africans tend to <strong>disparage</strong> African Americans, <strong>attempting to claim superiority over them</strong>—despite the <strong>numerous</strong>, obvious, <strong>dire</strong> conditions in which many of their families and/or countries are in, with <strong>little to no understanding</strong> of African American history and the many struggles they <strong>still</strong> face, by-<strong>passing</strong> the fact that the <strong>only reason</strong> they are able to come to America is <strong>by means of the African American struggle</strong>. Some As take to calling AAs “<em>Akatas</em>”, which is a term originated in <strong>Nigeria</strong>. This term is very <strong>derogatory</strong> and it more or less means a “<em>lost, confused, wild cat/fox away from home</em>”.</span></span></span></div>
</li>
</ol>
<blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">Why some African Americans have officially cut all ties with anything dealing with Africa:</span></span></span></p>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;"><strong>Slave trade</strong>- Although it is an obvious evil <strong>primarily at the hands of white Americans</strong> <strong>throughout history</strong>, it is a <strong>well known fact</strong> that <strong>African</strong> slaves were <strong>SOLD</strong> into slavery by other <strong>Africans</strong>. <span> </span>It is tacit that just the “<em>undesirable</em>” Africans and “<em>prisoners of war</em>” were sold into slavery. However, it is also a <strong>well known fact</strong> that the white slave traders <strong>wanted and paid for the strongest, and consequently most healthy, slaves who could offer the greatest capacity for work once in the America,</strong> so that would cancel out the notion of only “<em>undesirables</em>” and “<em>prisoners of war</em>” being sold into slavery. <strong>In either case</strong>, as one of my closest friends tells me, “<em>You just don’t betray/sell your own </em>”; he (<strong>my friend</strong>) wonders if this is an <strong>unforgivable</strong> act and if this is the reason Africa is in a seemingly <strong>perpetual <span> </span>cycle</strong> of misery (from a <strong>karma</strong> stand point)—by the way, my friend is <strong>African</strong>. Some African Americans are <strong>obdurate</strong> and rancorous; they argue that because they were sold into slavery<strong> by their own people</strong>, they want nothing to do with them. <span> </span>One the other hand, many <strong>Africans</strong> respond to <strong>African Americans</strong> in <strong>diatribe</strong> and do not <strong>fully embrace</strong> them as <strong>brethren</strong>---- <strong>even when they are interested in their African heritage.</strong></span></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;"><strong>Obligation</strong>- They feel, and <strong>rightfully</strong> so, as if they should be able to <strong>benefit from the prosperity of this land</strong>. Since the <strong>ancestors</strong> of African Americans have built this country <strong>literally</strong> on their backs--- through <strong>blood, sweat, and tears</strong>, they feel obligated to this country if for <strong>no other reason other than their ancestor’s struggle</strong>. To many of them, <strong>rejecting</strong> it would be <strong>rejecting</strong> the <strong>many</strong> lives given in the struggle and tenacity for <strong>freedom, civil rights, and justice</strong>.</span></span></span></div>
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<li>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">Others feel, since they were born <strong>here</strong> and have <strong>never</strong> been to <strong>Africa</strong>, nor their <strong>parents</strong>, do not know where their <strong>ancestry</strong> is in Africa or respective <strong>culture</strong>, they would prefer to be called <strong>black Americans</strong> or just <strong>Americans</strong>. Simply put, America is the <strong>only</strong> place they indentify with. </span></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">Since they <strong>know</strong> Africans tend to look down on them and make <strong>generalizations</strong>, they, consequentially, <strong>look down</strong> on them (Africans) too ....pointing to things like the current condition of Africa with <strong>poverty, AIDs, government corruption, senseless/petty killing of eachother, and basic quality of life concerning health</strong>. Some who are <strong>ignorant</strong> even make fun of them based on their <strong>cultural</strong> traditions as <strong>derision</strong>.</span></span></span></div>
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</ol>
<blockquote>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">Our commonalities:</span></span></span></p>
</blockquote>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;"><strong>Biased</strong> media- The media in America <strong>generally</strong> paints a pretty <strong>crappy</strong> picture of Africa, as a whole. Generally, you see <strong>dirty, starving children, HIV and other disease stricken villages, and little development by means of modern-day technologies with people literally begging just for clean water</strong>. Concerning AAs, many As are already <span> </span>fed the similar stereotypes mentioned above of AAs <strong>via the movie media</strong> and I’m sure <strong>word of mouth</strong>, also. However, there is also <strong>much beauty</strong> in Africa and its people that often goes <strong>untold</strong>, <strong>unnoticed</strong>, maybe <strong>both</strong>—their <strong>rich</strong> culture-<strong>language</strong> and <strong>food</strong> and in the <strong>beauty of their land</strong>. On the <strong>other</strong> side, there are many <strong>successful</strong>, <strong>well-educated, well-read</strong> African American <strong>women and men</strong> who are not “<em>baby daddies and mommas</em>”. <strong>Contrary to popular belief</strong>, not all African American men <strong>disrespect</strong> or <strong>mistreat</strong> their women. Not all of them are <strong>loud</strong> and <strong>ghetto</strong>. Not all of them are <strong>killing</strong> people or in <strong>jail</strong> for breaking the law. Not everyone <strong>drinks, smokes, or does/sells drugs</strong> etc as one may <strong>credulously</strong> believe. <strong>Both</strong> African Americans and Africans are <strong>individuals</strong>; it would be simply <strong>unwise</strong> not to look at them as such. </span></span></span></div>
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<li>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;"><strong>Despite</strong> the fact that African Americans are, <strong>by large</strong>, mixed to some <strong>degree</strong> with <strong>Native American</strong> or <strong>European </strong>blood, <strong>every</strong> African American can <strong>directly</strong> trace the vast <strong>majority</strong> of their ancestry <strong>back to some country in Africa</strong>, does this make them <strong>any less</strong> <strong>African</strong> than the <strong>next African</strong> when they have <strong>similar blood</strong> <strong>running deeply in their veins</strong>? One may argue, African Americans <span> </span>have <strong>no sense of African culture</strong>, but does this make a <strong>child</strong>--whose parents are natives of Africa and submerged in the culture--- <strong>raised in America</strong> and, for whatever reason, does not know <strong>anything or is seriously confused about his/her culture—language, tradition, etc</strong>…say due to “<em>Americanization</em>”…. a <strong>non African</strong>? This is still <strong>up for grabs</strong>.</span></span></span></div>
</li>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin:0 0 10pt;"><span style="line-height:115%;"><span style="font-size:12pt;"><span style="font-family:TW cen MT condensed;">The <strong>universal</strong> black struggle <strong>at the hands of mainly Europeans</strong> has affected <strong>African Americans and Africans alike</strong>; there has been no <strong>impunity</strong> given to either, and we both are, until this day, <strong>still struggling due to the exploitation of our people and our land.</strong> <span> </span>We’ve both had leaders who were <strong>sedulous and courageous</strong>.<strong> African Americans</strong> have been exploited through <strong>slavery</strong> and all the <strong>injustices</strong> that have followed <strong>at the expense of their <img class="alignleft" src="http://la.indymedia.org/uploads/2006/04/blackpower.jpg08dxxt.jpg" alt="" width="233" height="359" />people</strong>, and <strong>Africans</strong> have been exploited by means of their <strong>land and resources</strong> <strong>at the expense of their people</strong>. Being <strong>black</strong> anywhere--<strong> outside of Africa or some other nonblack countries/cities---</strong> in this world, we are <strong>all</strong> likely to be <strong>discriminated against</strong> or encounter <strong>prejudice</strong> of some sort, simply because we all are <strong>black</strong> and have <strong>dark skin</strong>. You could be from <strong>Ghana, Kenya, Ethiopia, Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Cameroon</strong>; you name it…<strong>same</strong> result. From a <strong>personal</strong> stand point, I believe there is a <strong>scramble</strong>, <strong>especially in America</strong>, to be on “<em>top</em>” concerning As and AAs. Undeniably, from a <strong>universal</strong> standpoint, black people (As and AAs alike) are at the <strong>bottom</strong> of the pyramid, and I feel that it is a mere <strong>scramble/battle</strong> for one to be <strong>on top</strong> of the other…as long as they are<strong> not at the very bottom</strong>, they don’t mind being one step away from it and <strong>far away</strong> from the top, which is <strong>ignorant</strong> because we are all <strong>ultimately</strong>, the same people and it does not, <strong>by any means</strong>, solve anything ---as you’re <strong>still at the bottom</strong>. Keeping in mind that one of the <strong>cardinal</strong> reasons we are <strong>far from apogee</strong> is because we <strong>lack</strong> unity within the <strong>masses</strong> of our black <strong>brothers and sisters</strong>.</span></span></span></div>
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<title><![CDATA[The Longest Walk]]></title>
<link>http://justthischris.wordpress.com/?p=811</link>
<pubDate>Sat, 12 Jul 2008 20:49:09 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>justthischris</dc:creator>
<guid>http://justthischris.wordpress.com/?p=811</guid>
<description><![CDATA[I don&#8217;t know how I made it through South Dakota on vacation without hearing about this event.]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>I don't know how I made it through South Dakota on vacation without hearing about this event.  I love AIM history and find this very inspiring. Members have been walking for five months now and the next few days are wrapping up in Washington DC. Check out <a href="http://www.longestwalk.org/">their website</a>.</p>
<p><span style='text-align:center; display: block;'><object width='425' height='350'><param name='movie' value='http://www.youtube.com/v/5MFeCNu0sLo'></param><param name='wmode' value='transparent'></param><embed src='http://www.youtube.com/v/5MFeCNu0sLo&rel=0' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' width='425' height='350'></embed></object></span></p>
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<title><![CDATA[A Different Perspective...]]></title>
<link>http://esoterickat.wordpress.com/?p=136</link>
<pubDate>Sat, 12 Jul 2008 14:35:18 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>esoterickat</dc:creator>
<guid>http://esoterickat.wordpress.com/?p=136</guid>
<description><![CDATA[ This quote speaks many truths within my being, so I thought I would share it with you today.
 I ]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="color:#c994b5;font-family:Comic Sans MS;"><strong> This quote speaks many truths within my being, so I thought I would share it with you today.</strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c994b5;font-family:Comic Sans MS;"><strong> I often like to imagine how the world would be if we didn't tear into our mother earth as if she was a valuable resource, but rather sit back and allow her to provide like she has for thousands of years. Imagine not having to wake up and go to work. </strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c994b5;font-family:Comic Sans MS;"><strong>Imagine instead being able to go for a walk and collect the freshest of foods which grow in abundance all around us. Leisurely walks where we take in the beautiful scenery around us and let our senses be renewed. Breathe in the pure air, and watch the trees sway to the rhythm of the wind. The doe and her young nibble on fields of clover unafraid of your presence, because too often you have crossed paths. You share the earth, as it was ment to be shared and all of life prospers, in both peace and well-being. What a vision. </strong></span></p>
<p><span style="color:#c994b5;font-family:Comic Sans MS;"><strong>This vision is a true way of life, in alignment with spirit. This vision was lived upon the very land you read this less then a hundred and fifty years ago. </strong></span></p>
<p><strong></strong></p>
<div>You ask me to plow the ground. Shall I take a knife and tear my mother's<br />
bosom? Then when I die she will not take me to her bosom to rest. You ask<br />
me to dig for stones! Shall I dig under her skin for bones? Then when I die<br />
I cannot enter her body to be born again. You ask me to cut grass and<br />
make hay and sell it and be rich like white men, but how dare I cut my<br />
mother's hair. I want my people to stay with me here. All the dead men<br />
will come to life again. Their spirits will come to their bodies again. We<br />
must wait here in the homes of our fathers and be ready to meet them<br />
in the bosom of our mother.<br />
-WOVOKA (JACK WILSON),<br />
PAIUTE SPIRITUAL LEADER, C. 1856-1932</div>
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<title><![CDATA[SD top picks 7/11/2008]]></title>
<link>http://seattledirt.wordpress.com/?p=361</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 11 Jul 2008 18:55:04 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>brandibratrude</dc:creator>
<guid>http://seattledirt.wordpress.com/?p=361</guid>
<description><![CDATA[
photo credit
Sightline Daily | Northwest News That Matters
Top Picks of the Day
1. EPA: Greenest Br]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img class="alignnone" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2386/1976503713_d8ccb0ce22.jpg?v=0" alt="" width="500" height="350" /></p>
<p><a href="http://flickr.com/photos/aghman/1976503713/" target="_blank">photo credit</a></p>
<p><a href="http://daily.sightline.org/" target="_blank">Sightline Daily &#124; Northwest News That Matters</a></p>
<p>Top Picks of the Day</p>
<p>1. <a href="http://blog.oregonlive.com/breakingnews/2008/07/epa_i5_bridge_impacts_on_pollu.html" target="_blank">EPA: Greenest Bridge May Not Be so Green</a> - Portland Oregonian 07/11/2008</p>
<p>2. <a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2008045901_soundtransit11m0.html" target="_blank">Sound Transit Ponders Transit Options</a> - Seattle Times 07/11/2008</p>
<p>3. <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/07/11/BATP11N5IL.DTL&#38;feed=rss.bayarea" target="_blank">BART Invests in Solar Power</a> - San Francisco Chronicle 07/11/2008</p>
<p>4. <a href="http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/local/370358_levees11.html?source=rss" target="_blank">King County's Dilemma: Cut Trees or Lose Funds</a> - Seattle Post-Intelligencer 07/11/2008</p>
<p>5. <a href="http://www.columbian.com/news/localNews/2008/07/07112008_Mount-St-Helens-hits-snooze-button.cfm" target="_blank">Mount St. Helens Hits Snooze Button</a> - Vancouver Columbian 07/11/2008</p>
<p>6. <a href="http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/07/10/MNO511N21T.DTL&#38;feed=rss.news" target="_blank">Bird Species Hurt as Habitat Dwindles</a> - San Francisco Chronicle 07/11/2008</p>
<p>7. <a href="http://www.indiancountry.com/content.cfm?id=1096417698" target="_blank">Natives Help Green Democratic Convention</a> - Indian Country Today 07/11/2008</p>
<p>8. <a href="http://features.csmonitor.com/environment/2008/07/10/study-green-jobs-rising-fossil-fuel-jobs-falling/" target="_blank">Study: Real Green Jobs on the Rise</a> - The Christian Science Monitor 07/10/2008</p>
<p>9. <a href="http://thetyee.ca/Life/2008/07/10/RottingRiches/" target="_blank">Let's Claim Our Rotting Riches</a> - The Tyee 07/10/2008</p>
<p>10. <a href="http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/opinion/370333_change11.html?source=rss" target="_blank">Views: We Can Cope with Change in Seattle</a> - Seattle Post-Intelligencer 07/11/2008</p>
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<title><![CDATA[Men with Long Hair - a Threat to Masculinity? Professionalism? a Kindergarten Class?]]></title>
<link>http://conventioneers.wordpress.com/?p=230</link>
<pubDate>Fri, 11 Jul 2008 14:33:25 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Lindsay</dc:creator>
<guid>http://conventioneers.wordpress.com/?p=230</guid>
<description><![CDATA[&#8220;How long my hair is, it tells me how long I&#8217;ve been here.&#8221; A five year old boy (a]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>"How long my hair is, it tells me how long I've been here." A five year old boy (and his parents) are currently protesting a Texas superintendent's ultimatum: Cut off the boy's hair, or he cannot go to elementary school here.</p>
<p>The superintendent explains: "A school district is a reflection of the community. We've consistently been very conservatively dressed, very conservatively disciplined. It's no secret what our policy is: You'll cut your hair to the right point. You'll tuck in your shirt. You'll have a belt."</p>
<p>He continues, "How can it be outdated? How many doctors, professionals, lawyers, look at your military branches, look at bankers, how many of them have long hair? How many have beards? How many have body piercings all over their face?"</p>
<p>"If you want to think we're backwards...no one is asking you to move to Needville and have these opinions invoked on you," Rhodes says. "All the kids I graduated with — there's a bunch of us back in Needville — we never thought we'd come back. Backwards isn't all that bad when you become the parent."</p>
<p><a title="Hair" href="http://www.houstonpress.com/2008-07-10/news/a-native-american-family-fights-against-hair-length-rules/1" target="_blank">Read more from the article...</a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[HANANIA: UNITY misses their own purpose, FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE, JULY 10, 2008]]></title>
<link>http://arabwritersgroup.wordpress.com/?p=216</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2008 23:17:23 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>Ray Hanania</dc:creator>
<guid>http://arabwritersgroup.wordpress.com/?p=216</guid>
<description><![CDATA[What Arab American journalists seek from &#8220;UNITY&#8221;
By Ray Hanania &#8211; Arab American jo]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-family:Bookman Old Style;"><strong>What Arab American journalists seek from "UNITY"<br />
By Ray Hanania --</strong> Arab American journalists just want to focus on being professional journalists, but the profession won’t let us. Soon, UNITY: Journalists of Color will be convening in Chicago for their quadrennial convention. UNITY is a great idea in concept, but it still has a long way to go to reach the ideal.<!--more--></p>
<p><font face="Bookman Old Style">The organization goal is to bring together "journalists of color," or those who are outside of the mainstream American media where White journalists dominate the news industry and non-White journalists are but a small percentage.</p>
<p>That’s not diversity and it needs to change. So, Asian American, Hispanic, African American and Native American journalists (representing the colors yellow, brown, black and red) came together to advocate as one lobby for more diversity and "inclusion" in the mainstream media news rooms.</p>
<p>Why is diversity important? In a truly professional journalism industry, diversity brings the full range of individual experiences to the table and helps to insure that news coverage is determined based on truth rather than on politics or group agendas. Having journalists who are Arab, for example, might help the journalism industry do a better job of covering the Middle East conflict.</p>
<p>Those few Arab Americans journalists who have broken into mainstream journalism – there are only about 250 to 300 working half in mainstream journalism jobs and half in ethnic American media – have proven their worth, including one who won a Pulitzer Prize and others leading the way in major media reporting.</p>
<p>The problem is that UNITY doesn’t represent the reality of the problem today, but the definition of what is and what isn’t a "minority" or a "journalist of color" as defined by the White American journalism establishment.</p>
<p>White America has identified who is and who isn’t a minority. Technically, Arabs are not a race, they are more of a culture. But they certainly are a singled out and persecuted group in this country.</p>
<p>So why is UNITY resistant to including Arab Americans among their "leadership?"</p>
<p>UNITY has opened the door to a token presence at their convention by addressing Arab American issue on one panel that includes some prestigious and respected Arab American and non-Arab American journalists. The idea for a panel was proposed by the National Arab American Journalists Association (NAAJA) during the more than two years that the group has been advocating that UNITY open its doors to Arab Americans.</p>
<p>It would be unfair to call the contacts "discussions," and more accurate to describe it as Arab Americans repeatedly knocking at a door that won’t open for them.</p>
<p>We understand the real problem. UNITY has managed to carve out a spot at the "big table" with the mainstream media. Diversity, as defined by Blacks, Asians, Hispanics and Native Americans, is being addressed in mainstream news rooms. "Diversity" is probably one of the top issues discussed by journalists and is on the front burners of nearly every journalism group, meeting, conference or convention.</p>
<p>But the truth is, there is also great resistance to "diversity" in the White dominated news rooms which not only discriminate against Arabs by excluding them from jobs and hiring, but also discriminate against female journalists who don’t fall into any category addressed by UNITY either.</p>
<p>In other words, there are only a small rare handful of seats at the table and right now UNITY has to divide those seats among Blacks, Asians, Hispanics and Native Americans. Gay and Lesbians are also a part of the UNITY agenda. But not Arabs. Not women. And not other minorities in this country that are also shut out of the so-called "free press."</p>
<p>They just don’t want to have to share what little power they have. And that, to me, is the real problem.</p>
<p>Minorities and "journalists of color" have been conditioned to accept crumbs believing the crumbs are cake when they are little more than crumbs.</p>
<p>What the mainstream media has done for "journalists of color" is nothing short of dismal and shameful. There is no real diversity in mainstream newsrooms.</p>
<p>Diversity is earning a certain disrespect among mainstream journalists who, mainly White, insist that identifying as a "journalist of color" compromises their journalistic and professional purity.</p>
<p>What should UNTIY do? Well, for starters, they should re-engineer their organization to emphasize the word "unity." In truth, UNITY’s convention is really four separate organizations holding four separate conventions all at the same time and in the same location.</p>
<p>The second thing is that they should rededicate themselves to their moniker, "Journalists of color." All journalists of color, those that are popularly accepted and those, like Arab Americans, who are unpopular and rejected, should be welcomed.</p>
<p>In fact, the system should change from four powers to one organization color blind with one agenda to advance the interests of all journalists of ethnic, racial and minority status.</p>
<p>We embrace their goals. But we hope they also live up to them.</p>
<p><em>(Ray Hanania is an award winning columnist and author. He is the managing editor of the Arab American Writers Syndicate and can be reached at </em></p>
<p></font></span> </p>
<p><a href="http://www.themediaoasis.com/"><span style="font-family:Bookman Old Style;"><em>www.TheMediaOasis.com</em></span></a><span style="font-family:Bookman Old Style;"><em>. Email him at </em><a href="mailto:rayhanania@comcast.net"><em>rayhanania@comcast.net</em></a><em>.)</em></span></p>
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<title><![CDATA[Vying for Native American Votes]]></title>
<link>http://rebeccamford.wordpress.com/?p=83</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2008 22:18:39 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>msbeccaf</dc:creator>
<guid>http://rebeccamford.wordpress.com/?p=83</guid>
<description><![CDATA[ALBUQUERQUE &#8212; Native American voters, often treated as an afterthought in presidential electio]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>ALBUQUERQUE -- Native American voters, often treated as an afterthought in presidential elections, are receiving an unprecedented amount of attention from both presidential candidates this year in the battleground state of New Mexico.</p>
<p>It's a development nearly two decades in the making in which a handful of Albuquerque–based activists have been working to create a well-organized and powerful Native American voice.</p>
<p>Today, with 63,000 registered voters, according to the Secretary of State’s Office, Native Americans may well be the swing constituency in one of the most politically volatile states in the country.</p>
<p>The <a id="hc90" title="Sacred Alliance for Grassroots Equality" href="http://www.sagecouncil.org/">Sacred Alliance for Grassroots Equality</a> (SAGE) Council, founded in 1996 by brother and sister Sonny and Laurie Weahkee, was formed to protest the construction of a road through the Petroglyph National Monument on Albuquerque's fast-growing westside....</p>
<p>For the rest of the article, see <a href="http://newmexicoindependent.com/view/engaging-native">The New Mexico Independent.</a><br />
Or cross-posted at <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rebecca-ford/new-mexicos-native-americ_b_112020.html">The Huffington Post</a></p>
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<title><![CDATA[The Lord prepares the way for those who follow Him, part I]]></title>
<link>http://danielstidbits.wordpress.com/?p=13</link>
<pubDate>Thu, 10 Jul 2008 18:25:14 +0000</pubDate>
<dc:creator>danf.pa</dc:creator>
<guid>http://danielstidbits.wordpress.com/?p=13</guid>
<description><![CDATA[As we headed up through Nebraska to White Clay and Pine Ridge, we had almost no idea of what we woul]]></description>
<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>As we headed up through Nebraska to White Clay and Pine Ridge, we had almost no idea of what we would be doing, or where we would be staying, for this week. All we knew was that we had a 12 noon appointment with a Mr. Bruce BonFleur of 555 Ministries in White Clay and a Three O’clock meeting in Pine Ridge with a lady we will be working with in Rapid City this month.<!--more--></p>
<p>A little geography and background – Pine Ridge is both the name of the reservation we work around, and the main town on the ‘Rez where the government offices are located. When I say Pine Ridge, I will mean the town, and I will try to make it obvious when I am talking about the Reservation.  Pine Ridge, SD is located just north of the SD-NE border, and the town of White Clay, NE is just south of the NE-SD border, so it’s a two or three minute drive between the two. Pine Ridge Reservation is “Dry” (No alcohol sales), so the town of White Clay sells a huge gigantic amount of alcohol, mostly to Natives. This makes it a prime place for ministry. Rapid City is the largest metropolis in the area, and is about two hours North from Pine Ridge.</p>
<p>So we were traveling up through Nebraska on a beautiful Monday morning. We had just finished cooking and eating our waffles, and we came across a truck driver walking up the road. Now the towns up here are small and few and far between. The last town we had passed through was about 4 miles back, and had a gas station and a couple small stores. The truck driver had lost both of his tires of the front passenger side of his grain trailer. We picked him up, and drove back to the small town of Cody, where he went into the gas station to see if he could get any help. He did get a person to come out, but the parts would be about an hour and a half or more coming from the nearest supplier. So we took him back and went looking for the tires. We found one, and eventually we found a lug nut and bolt that had broken off.</p>
<p>We were glad to help him look get a ride to town and up the road to look for his tires, and we are blessed with a new friend, although we may never meet again.</p>
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