Hau mitakuyepi (Hello relatives,)
Thachanku Wiyakpa Win hemacha (my Indian name is Thachanku Wiyakpa Win.)
Winona Little Owl emaciyab. (My name is Winona Little Owl.)
Inyan Woslal Han ematanhan na Othunwahe (I am from Standing Rock.)
Waniyetu amakenapciyunka (I am 19 years old.)
Ate Denny Gayton eciyab (My father is Denny Gayton.)
Ina April Ignacio eciyab (My mother is April Ignacio.)
Chuwe Pachynne Ignacio eciyab (My older sister is Pachynne Ignacio.)
Misunkala Hepanna e na Micah e na Vine e na Trudell e na Thorpe Ignacio ewichakiyab (My younger brothers are Hepanna, Micah, Vine, Trudell, and Thorpe Ignacio.)
Ate hunku kin ins Ione Gayton eciyab. (My father’s mother is Ione Gayton.)
Ina hunku kin ins Verna Enos eciyab (My motherʼs mother is Verna Enos.)
Thiwahe kin mila kho kinhe k’eyas tohanyan ohikiha thechihila (No matter what, I love my family with all my heart.)
I dream of my language, Lakota, bringing my people together.
I want to see more young people, like me, speaking Lakota with our elders.
My grandma Ione, who we call Teenie, is a survivor of the boarding school era.
She never learned to speak Lakota because it wasn’t allowed in her schools.
But as a boy, até—my dad—found an old Lakota grammar book.
He studied our language. He practiced speaking Lakota with Standing Rock elders.
He learned how to speak from the heart.
He taught my little brother and me to speak our language, too.
Até always says that our people need to be free.
To speak Lakota is to reclaim our freedom.
Standing Rock is the land of the Lakota people.
It’s so flat here, people say if your dog runs away, you’ll still see it for two weeks.
In the winter, it’s bitter cold. The lakes freeze over; the creeks stop running.
But in the spring, everything returns to life.
The ice on the Missouri River breaks up and begins to disappear.
Wild coneflowers blossom, painting the prairie in purple.
I love the Lakota words for our land:
wí hinápȟa (sunrise)
obláye (prairie)
wanáȟča (flower)
As a kid, até would teach my friends and me Lakota sayings you can’t learn in the textbooks.
Like when someone looks all rugged, we say ‘tȟaháŋpšišiča šilyéla’ (when someone looks all rugged.)
Or ‘tuwéȟča škhéka’ (when someone throws shade) for when something happens that’s out of pocket.
Textbooks are good for grammar, but these words bring Lakota to life.
In 5th grade, my friends and I entered a Lakota language competition.
We called our team “The Little Wagon Burners.”
At first, we lost. We didn’t know what we were doing.
By 6th grade, we got third place.
Then in 7th grade, we traveled to Rapid City for The Nation’s competition.
I remember our team huddled off to the side before the final question.
Até pulled me to the side and said, “You got it, Nona!”
The judge said the word: “íŋyaŋka” (to run).
We had to use it in a full sentence.
I knew this one. Até is a runner—he runs about 17 miles a day.
“Aŋpétug lé waíŋmnaŋke,” I answered. (Today, I ran.)
In high school, teachers told students not to speak Lakota unless they would translate it.
Most teachers didn’t speak Lakota, and they didn’t trust the kids.
But my freshman year, até became the Lakota language teacher.
[LAKOTA ON SCREEN] héčhel yačhíŋka čha! (I guess that’s what you wanted!)
I was afraid my classmates would be troublemakers.
But then they learned how to speak Lakota, too. And we started talking with one another.
[LAKOTA ON SCREEN] tuwé waŋ níksuye (somebody was thinking about you and made you sneeze)
This wasn’t the boarding school era anymore.
We were speaking our language.
After high school, I moved 1,500 miles away, to Tohono O’odham Nation, for college. I have family here, too.
But I miss my Grandma Teenie’s cooking, her bacon rice.
I miss singing with my sister in Lakota—especially ceremony songs.
I miss my best friends and watching the sun set over the prairie.
When I graduate, I hope to return to Standing Rock and teach Lakota to high schoolers.
I’ll make it fun for them like até made it fun for my friends and me.
My name is Winona Little Owl.
I am 19 years old.
Standing Rock is my home.
I dream of hearing Lakota spoken freely here:
In the checkout line at the White Buffalo store;
At the playgrounds and on the basketball courts;
As teachers welcome students into classrooms each morning.
mitȟóyateg iyápig lé kič'úŋyaŋ okhížuya wóglaglag šna uŋyaŋkab (My language, Lakota, brings my people together.)
