In Cadence: ‘Mni Wiconi’ and the Great Observers

I packed up the camping gear and headed home to the protest at Standing Rock so I could be present to witness history in the making. Part of that history included the words Mni Wiconi (“water is life”), words that became the mantra in 2016 during the demonstrations protesting the Dakota Access Pipeline. We call it the "Black Snake."

The water protectors of Standing Rock understood this dissent to be more than preventing an oil pipeline from snaking through our homelands. We withstood rubber bullets, pepper spray, dog attacks, and freezing winter temps because we had a greater understanding of the consequences of putting this pipeline under the mighty Missouri. The words Mni Wiconi during the NoDAPL protest were embraced among natives and non-natives alike. The water protectors did this for all beings and for the health of both land and water.

The Lakota acknowledge water to be the first medicine known to humankind and is an integral part of our ceremonies. When we sit in inipi, or sweat lodge, water is poured on hot rocks to create steam. The heat and steam blanket us as we pray in an enclosed lodge. We welcome this sacrifice because the Lakota believe we make our lives anew with every inipi. The intimacy we have with water during this process is the medicine that carries our prayer to the creator.

In early winter of 2016, I traveled to Pine Ridge, South Dakota, to have inipi with my ceremony family. I went with the intent to pray for myself, but at the time my heart was with the water protectors in Standing Rock. The spirits told us to “always remember those who fight to protect the earth because the land sees everything and the water always remembers.”

As a child, I often stayed with my grandparents on their South Dakota cattle ranch north of Timber Lake, and I recall one day going with my grandfather, Ken Ward, to ensure there was adequate water supply for the livestock. We jumped in his old pickup and bounced in our seats as we drove the bumpy prairie roads to the creek on the east end of the ranch. Arriving at the creek, we jumped out of the truck and stood quietly watching the water flow, allowing ourselves to be observers of the creek’s movement. We didn’t speak a word.

After several minutes of silence, we hopped back in the pickup and bounced all the way to the west end the ranch to see if the windmill was still operating as it should. My grandfather and I watched the pump move slowly up and down and the fan move round and round. Water dictated much of the ranch operation, and my grandfather did his best to move in cadence with the water.

This past summer I drove highway 89 through Paradise Valley along the Yellowstone River and pulled into a fishing access. I waited my turn to dock and eventually unload the raft as I shuffled through others making their way to the river’s edge. As I begin the float, I recognize the movement of the water. I see how the river is still and calm then suddenly moves, creating whitewater with a splash over rocks, then returns to stillness and continues in this alternating pattern. I softly move my rod back and forth maneuvering the tip and fly line based on how the water is flowing.

There are moments during the float when I set my rod down and do nothing but survey the water. I am still. I observe which flowers are in bloom indicating the stage in life the bugs are in. I take stock of how the sun creates glitter on the waves, watch the tipi-shaped leaves of the cottonwood trees wave at me as if to say hello, and acknowledge the young spotted eagle as it soundlessly soars a few feet above my head. I clear everything from my mind and observe the natural world move in cadence with the water.

Many days, I think back at how my grandfather watched the water as I do when I float the Yellowstone. It makes sense and seems inherent—we come from a long line of great observers. Prior to colonization, Native Americans did not use microscopes to see microbes or observe mold growing in potato agar, but we were the great observers of the natural world which in fact is the way of science and discovery. Natives understand ecology as coexisting in a holistic manner with land and water; however, traditional Native American land management is rarely recognized, and recent decades of management have been dictated by special interest groups.

The lack of working holistically is one reason why the current water supply is in dire straits. The ever-growing population and evolving communities are going to require a change in practice and observing traditional Native American systems can provide a framework to build upon. Native Americans understand the correlation of culture and ecology, and we must be at the table when policies are being discussed. Our science not only includes the observance of the natural world but also the supernatural. We have the power to transform water into medicine.

People protect what they love, and time is of the essence for all humans to start fostering their intimate relationship with water. Protect the water and everything else will follow. We must not think water as a resource, but rather as the source of all things living. Water is life. Mni Wiconi.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mountain Journal is the only nonprofit, public-interest journalism organization of its kind dedicated to covering the wildlife and wild lands of Greater Yellowstone. We take pride in our work, yet to keep bold, independent journalism free, we need your support. Please donate here. Thank you.