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KFAI's Indian
Uprising for Apr 24th
Nobody still living, knows its ancient name by Clara NiiSka, Minneapolis, Minnesota, April, 2005 Mis-kwaa-ga-mi-wi - zaa-ga'i-ga-niing just means "Red Lake Indian reservation," as it is known now. Red Lake is about 260 miles a five-hour drive north and a bit west of the Twin Cities, Minnesota ... close to the center of this Continent and at the 'crossroads' of three major watersheds the Red Lake River flows into Hudson's Bay, and it's just over the mountains ground down by four ice ages but still remembered, to the source of the Mississippi, and a short portage into the headwaters of the Great Lakes. Red Lake, at least to me, is more beautiful than anyplace else on earth. The far shores of the lakes blend in misty distance with the sky beyond the horizon. The undomesticated beauty of the swamps and bogs and meandering rivers extends across unfenced expanses, the young popple trees valiantly cover the clearcut, and the land still remembers the old forests. The stars blaze across the sky in the rich darkness of northcountry night, and the silence is alive with forest voices. The people of Red Lake are closely connected, with small-town intensity. There is community, and aboriginal indigenous wisdom of being human is not yet completely forgotten. My home was in the hardwood forest along the south shore of lower Red Lake ... lush humid warmth of summer, intensely filled with life a year's growing-season condensed into three or four months ... brilliant clear sunlight through autumn leaves, carpeting the forest floor with gold ... rich supersaturated browns and grays and reds of the woods as rain cools to snow and autumn turns to winter ... Powerful brilliant winter cold, sometimes sixty degrees below zero: trees crack with intense freezing, the snow crystals sing like a million tiny chimes in the wind, and the northern lights dance across the sky And then, there's Spring. I used to think of making maple sugar in the Spring, hauling sap through woods awakening, the reweaving of community at the sugarbush fires ... the tap-tap-tapping of woodpeckers and the symphony of birdsong in the early morning. But now, and for the generations after this season of Spring at Red Lake, there will be painful memories of death as well as life. Red Lake: A new beginning for the 'End of the Trail?' by David Wilkins for Indian Country Today April 14, 2005. Wilkins is a Professor of American Indian Studies at the University of Minnesota. "Historically, First Nations had a much more cohesive status and our young people were respected and often trusted with impressive amounts of responsibility. In fact, sometimes the very survival of our nations depended on our young peoples' abilities, knowledge and personal acts of bravery and fortitude." http://www.Indiancountry.com/content.cfm?id=1096410744
o E-mail: radio@spottedeagle.org o KFAI voice message: 612-341-3144 Ext. 818 o Regular mail: KFAI Fresh Air Radio, Box 61, 1808 Riverside Avenue, Minneapolis MN 55454 KFAI Community Radio is a non-commercial non-profit community station operated by a full and part time staff with over 300 volunteers. |
