Words Are Never Enough: Reflections from Pine Ridge

The wind started shaking my tent at 1:58AM. We had to drop people off at the airport 100 miles away by 4:30AM. It was as if the wind knew, and was acting as Mother Earth’s alarm clock, helping us to take care of what needed to be done.

These are the kinds of things that seem to happen every time we are on Pine Ridge. Energy, spirit and relationships are strong, and it is easier to be present in the moment. Wind announces that it is coming so that you can stop what you are doing and revel in its cooling presence. White cows emerge just as they are inquired about; dogs warn us to prepare for storms in the most remarkable ways – knocking on doors; cars get stuck in mud just in time for us to get out and see remarkable views. The

ever-present nature, the natural beauty of the Rez and the Badlands, weather elements, plants and animals (including horses joining us for dinner) all help us deepen our connection to all that is around us in ways that are not always felt in our daily routines. They are what invite a downpour of rain to become a communal shower, and deeply appreciating a nap in the shade. They are what get people to wake up at 5AM just to watch the sunrise or fall into frequent moments of silence and worship.

Mike Sierra's farm

And there are the remarkable and inspiring people. Shannon Freed, her husband Adam Weasel and his father Gerald Weasel, through their company Earth Tipi, are working to be a demonstration of sustainability in Manderson while also developing a place for people to come together to explore, be a part of, and help build a sense of community. Mike Sierra and his wife and the small farm way off the beaten path in Oglala that is a model of healthy, organic vegetables grown local – something we saw more signs of this year than we have seen in past years. Reva High Horse and her niece and husband Cindy and Dwayne High Horse, carrying on the tradition of the Sundance in a way that, over the course of a few short days, builds deep and lasting relationships – one big family that extends to include all of us who came together, often as strangers or acquaintances, as we explore our own faith, values and traditions while learning those of the Lakota through fellowship, work and stories. Our tasks may not always make sense to us, but we learn to respect their importance to others. Respect is a necessary component of peace and justice work. Through it all, there are also the struggles of addiction, unemployment, and idleness. As one of our members said during our last worship-sharing, this is real life, not the materialistic, frenetic lives we tend to live when we leave the Rez. 

Inside tipi after Meeting for Worship

“Are these the Quakers?” asked one of the leaders of the High Horse Sundance, pointing to the tents that housed 20 of us from a mix of Friends entities that included a private school (Sidwell), a college (Wilmington) and a Monthly Meeting (Downingtown, PA). Mike Gray is the constant Quaker presence, as he has been for over 20 years. Through William Penn Quaker Workcamps, we try to do our part to help maintain that Quaker presence – not just in numbers but in our faith and practice. We are a witness, and our own worship becomes something for others to witness and to participate in, just as we participate in sweats and song. As we heard from a Lakota man who works as a park ranger at Badlands National Park’s Lakota-managed division, we all worship one God, just in different ways. The hospitality expressed at the High Horse Sundance is a testimony to that.

We have now all returned home, with the exception of Mike who will be heading south in a week or

so. We have moved back to beds from nights on the ground, sometimes in tents, sometimes under the stars, or in a few cases, in a tipi. We have washed off most of the dirt that we had become a bit accustomed to (although will likely still find remnants of dirt, grass and bugs in our clothes for a while), and the facial hair we may not otherwise sport is shaved. It is ironic that being so used to not cleaning ourselves can lead to feeling so cleansed. We were wisely counseled by Rosebud elder Charlene to listen to and pursue our dreams and our purpose. Perhaps not being so concerned with earthly things like what to wear and how to look opens way for doing this. Our dreams will be perhaps driven more by our hearts that are now fuller, our love and our tears. We are hopefully more whole, more grounded, more intentional and more respectful as we re-engage our minds to our purpose. We are also challenged to step up our support for the Lakota and other native Americans – whether it is calling on Congress to stop cutting Indian healthcare funds or fully funding Indian colleges (both of which are treaty commitments that continue to be violated), or calling on President Obama to pardon Leonard Peltier before he leaves office in a few months, or directly supporting the work of Earth Tipi or Mike Sierra.

William Penn set out to create the Peaceable Kingdom. We have a long way to go, but we saw glimpses of what is possible the last few weeks. We hope that more F/friends will join us so we can maintain – and perhaps grow – the presence of the Quakers on the ground next summer and in spirit and advocacy throughout the years. 

From July 20 to August 4, William Penn Quaker Workcamps was on Pine Ridge. Many thanks to Mike Gray, Shannon Fried, Adam Weasel, Mike Sierra, Reva High Horse, and Jeff Domenick and Sue McKenna from Downingtown Friends Meeting. And to all who joined us, what a ride! You were all fantastic. Let’s keep it going. More pictures can be seen on William Penn Quaker Workcamps' facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/williampennquakerworkcamps/photos/?tab=album&album_id=293764887644760)

-Brad Ogilvie

Fear of Tears

"I had to turn away. Otherwise, I was going to start crying."

These were the words of a recent WPQW participant who was in DC with her college for an alternative break week. We were taking time for reflection about what insights, experiences, or wisdom they had noticed from their time with us, so far. The activities included participating in Our Daily Bread (a fellowship community breakfast with people from all walks of life, including many who sleep on the streets and in shelters), garden winterization and soil prep for spring planting, and street outreach with people that are homeless.

Among the insights of other folks was the realization, garnered from their 1:1 time with people, that listening to people, simply engaging in conversation, being with people where they are, matters. In this was also the awareness of the fact that mental illness has high co-morbidity with the homeless population, but to really connect we have to have a relationship. Others had reflections that it all can seem overwhelming as we seek answers (I maintain that it is not answers that keep us moving, but the next good question), and that the real work for social justice has to continue in their daily lives, not just as an alternative vacation.

But it was the role of tears where things got real. One student spoke - somewhat apologetically - through her tears about how a homeless woman told her that she and her fellow-students reminded the woman of her own daughters. It brings it home - there are families, loved ones, and whole life stories that remain invisible. Then, there was the statement by the student about needing to turn away from all the stimulus. She said it was overwhelming. I suspect, and we talked about it, that what was overwhelming was not what was going on around her, but what was welling up inside of her, perhaps a mixture of anger, sadness, guilt, disgust, even love, and her all-too-common belief that we should not be emotional. And it is the fear of tears, the sadness, perhaps intellectualized as a sense of weakness, that we seem the most uncomfortable with, and it often leads us to want to flee.

And yet, we need to be with these emotions, fully present not just with our heads but with our hearts, embracing them, not fighting them, if we are truly to engage in the good work of trying to make the world a better place.  We can talk about statistics of poverty, mental illness, health indicators, etc., but as Emma Goldman said, "The demand for equal rights in every vocation of life is just and fair; but after all, the most vital right is to love and be loved." To be loving means being able to laugh and cry. When we turn away from our tears when they naturally occur, we turn away from our emotions, and we turn away from being present with others. But when we let it flow, we strengthen ourselves, become more present and more whole to carry on the good work.

Mindfulness in the Garden

We recently spent about 90 minutes with ten 9th grade students from Sidwell Friends School at Wangari Gardens, cleaning out garden plots and organizing community spaces in preparation for winter. It's amazing what can get accomplished when you have multiple hands to help out.

Among the tasks was to pick kale that was still growing in abundance from one of our plots. Kale is one of the plants I have learned to appreciate since getting involved in gleaning and gardening here in DC. It's a low-maintenance plant that produces from spring through the hardest of frosts in the winter, and is also good for you.

As we wrapped up our time together, I asked the group, after a moment of silence, to reflect on an image or a memory from our time together that they can take with them, knowing that bringing intentionality to an image carries itself with us for a longer time. One of the kale pickers said that she will remember how relaxing it was to pick the kale. She was one of the students who had never picked kale, but quickly learned that you cannot mindlessly pick it (or, as I've seen noted other places, "mind full" and "mindful" are very different experiences). One has to connect with the plant, noting where the top of each stalk is, and gently taking each leaf and stem below it. It is not something that can be done while multi-tasking. It is being mindfully present with each stalk and each leaf for a brief moment.

Another student said she will take with her the image of the light reflecting around us as the sun was setting. "I don't usually get to see the sun set", she stated. It's not that the sun does not set every day; it's that we are so often busy doing other things to notice what is happening around us.

These are two simple examples and affirmations of how easy it is to experientially teach mindfulness. We had not talked about mindfulness, but these two students got it, and by taking a moment to intentionally connect with it, it starts to infiltrate their being. As good friend Janie Boyd has taught me, spending time in the garden is good for the soul. It's as simple as that.  I will get to work with many of these students once a month over the school year. I look forward to deepening this practice with them as we strive to do good in the world.