Lakota Wiyan

In Oglala, South Dakota, I grew up a dusty little girl who tried to hang tough with my big cousins, but still wanted to be the baby girl that everyone seemed to think I was!

In third grade at Loneman school, a man whose name I can't remember, took all us kids behind the school to a very little pine bough shade. He brought his little handdrum out and sang little penny songs and kahomni songs for us to dance to. Some other ladies brought out big bins of little cloth ribbon dresses with the matching leggings and a shawl for all the girls. Since there was going to be a powwow at the White Clay District (no, not THAT White Clay), that weekend, they let us take them home so we could dance.

Most of the little girls hadn't really danced before, or if we did, it was just with a little shawl during intertribals. My friend Heidi was an old professional by that time, though, since her family were all long time powwowers. I was so envious of her little white boot moccasins with the fringe all around the top. You know what I'm talking about! I know you had a pair long time ago, and I know you put plastic pony beads on the fringe to match your dress!

That powwow was the most exciting time of my entire life. It wasn't my first powwow, but it was the first powwow I had fully participated in. I was about ready to bust with pride when I went to register myself. Of course I didn't contest at that powwow, because I really didn't know what I was doing at the time, but I danced every single song that I could. I danced off to the side of the arena, right in front of my Gramma and Mom. I danced right next to the drum groups that were singing. I danced by the bathroom waiting in line, and I danced myself into the house when we went home.

The next year, my Gramma and Mom made me all new stuff to dance in, because I was hooked. By that time, I had been to a few winter powwows, as well as our local reservation schools powwow circuit, which met once a month. I had that old professional dancer's swagger by that time! So, of course, I had my taste of the other joys of powwows, mainly, running amok with friends and finding horses to hitch rides on. Beadwork and ribbon dresses don't mix well with mud puddles and shawl fringes tend to mix TO well with small broken tumbleweeds!

I was always to independant for my own good. I knew I could take care of myself, so I really didn't need much supervision.....Yeah, right!! My poor uncles and cousins had the honor of rounding me up every hour or so, when I would completely disappear from sight. That is when the Flash of Pink legend was born.

Legend has it that at the various small powwows on the Pine Ridge Reservation in the very early 80s, there was a small little spirit that would show itself to people, but only out of the corner of their eye. A car door left open? Whoosh, there goes the flash of pink! Water faucet to the well left on, full blast? FLASH of pink!! Drum groups mic stand pulled down by wayward fringes?? Fringes of PINK??

One day, the Flash of Pink was actually caught, or so they think! Stuffed halfway down a prairie dog hole, a small scrap of pink material with pink and red sequins and pink fringe, but no more Flash. Nobody ever did see the Flash of Pink for many many years, until the summer of 2006. Legend has it again, that the Flash of Pink swelled with mirth and mischief and had to divide itself into two spirits! The original spirit is larger, but the second spirit is very small, but just as mischievous and just as elusive at powwows. The biggest difference between the two is that the second Flash of Pink makes a sweet little jingly noise when she runs by. If you ever come to Pine Ridge Reservation, keep the corner of your eye clear, so that you might catch a glimpse of that tiny little Flash of Pink....and keep an ear out for her jingly sound, and also the faint sound of laughter from her mom!

wyo_rose

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this! THANKS!

Mato Winyan

You really have a talent. I'm looking forward to reading more of your stuff.

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"We see it as a desecration not only of a mountain but of our way of life. This is a genocidal issue to us. If they kill this mountain, they kill our way of life." ~Debra White Plume

Joe G

VERY NICE!! you are a gifted writer.....!!

Lakota Wiyan

Wow, thank you guys! I was kinda scared to put it up here, but here it is! Thanks for your nice words....

Dweick

I know I loved it thanks for posting

~Journey~

Awesome, write some more!

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~Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday~

Eagle Plumes

Loved it! and so very true!! keep up the goot work!

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I got a fevah! And the only cure is more cowbell!!!

Joe's Dad

Good story young lady. I've been to Loneman School. Remember the tornado in '99?

When you write more, post them here.

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