Unci Beverly Littlethunder
At age 16, Beverly was a wife, and became a mother to her firstborn. Before she reached 30 years of age, she had four additional children and was trying very hard to be a good model to her children. She was an active member of the American Indian Movement. When she wasn’t taking nursing classes, organizing civil rights protests, spending time with Indigenous elders, providing spiritual guidance for community members, or preparing ceremonial spaces for community, Beverly could be found at home sewing ceremonial regalia for her children, teaching her children how to bead on a loom, or tending to the squash, tomatoes, and flowers in her garden. From this vantage point, Beverly was the embodiment of what Buffalo Calf Pipe woman recognizes as a woman who catalyzes the evolution of family growth and healing in order to contribute to the safety of the tribal community, or a “woman who makes the family move”. Beverly blessed her life with the memories of the traditional ways and lived to pass those ways to her children, to be used throughout their lifetimes, and the seven generations to come. As was the traditional Lakota woman’s way of life.
Yet, just like there are two sides to the Indian head nickel, there were two sides to Beverly, and the eclipse of Beverly’s life was her equally devout political activism in the women’s liberation movement, accompanied by her intimate, tender feelings for women. In the traditional-era, if Beverly had shared, with her elders, details of the dual-role she was living, they may have believed her to be a dreamer of the “Double Woman’s Appearance,” or a person who embodied both the feminine and male spirit, and she would have been revered within her community as an elder, teacher, and storyteller. However, in modern-day era, when Beverly disclosed her feelings to her spiritual community, she was referenced as a lesbian whose behavior was considered a sexual perversion and taboo in nature.
Beverly’s story became one of isolation, perseverance, and love. In her memoir, One Bead at a Time, Beverly’s story vividly illustrates her Native American activism, pain and hardship endured from being rejected by her spiritual community, and same-sex domestic violence. Beverly shares the intimate details of her life, as well as highlighting the many struggles that she and many other queer Native American people faced in a modern colonized society.
Being a true story teller, Beverly’s stories shed a glimpse of Lakota beliefs and practices, empowerment for women in ceremonial roles and leadership, and resiliency. Most importantly, Beverly’s stories shed light on the toxic gender dynamics that are prevalent within Native American communities. Beverly’s story is beautiful, deep, and empowering.
Dr. Lushanya Echeverria
Tokheskhe yaun he! How are you
Conversations related to true democracy and inclusion have been the foundation of the morals and values on which I was raised. I attended my first protest for racial justice and equality when I was four-years-old, in the early 1980s. When asked by teachers, “What was your “weekend high?”, I was more likely to share I had attended a march, rally, meeting, demonstration, or community gathering in support of racial equity, unfair labor practices, gender-related discrimination, ethnic equality, and sexual orientation discrimination.
As a child, I felt protected, included, and guided by the elders, leaders, and mothers of my Native American community. In addition to the social justice exposure, I was part of a community whose members included Native American tribes that spanned the length of California, including Mexico, all the way north to the Dakotas. Each weekend my family was welcomed to varying ceremonies, honoring Mother Earth and the healing of warriors and chiefs, and their families, from the wounds they received while fighting for the rights of Indigenous people of America. Yet, that changed when my mother, a respected Lakota leader, in the mid-1980s, announced she was “lesbian” and we were banished from our community.
As a result of being excluded from our traditional Lakota community, my mother started a grassroots non-profit organization which invited First Nations women, across the globe, to participate in an annual prayer ceremony that our people called Sundance. The Women’s Lakota Sundance has hosted and served over five thousand women throughout its 30 years of existence. Since I was 16 years old, I have stood beside my mother, learning, reciting, and teaching the morals and values of gender equality, sexual orientation and gender-nonbinary inclusion within the context of traditional ceremonies. I am currently the Sundance and organization leader, and facilitate leadership for sustainability within a youth council.
As a professional educator for twenty-two years, I have active conversations with administrators, equity committees, and community groups to promote equality in education for Native American and Black/African-American students. I am active in curriculum design, as well as curriculum content selection committees, to ensure students are experiencing inclusion as it aligns to the multicultural and ethnic diversity of the school's population. I work exclusively with our Native American community liaison to monitor and mitigate the high truancy rate of our Native American students. Within the past two years, I have co-created an alternative behavior school, using trauma-informed response practices, which has a population of 90% Black, Native American, and Latinx students. In addition, I have created a support program identifying the teachers, who are 80% Black, Native American, and Latinx, as first responders who experience compassion fatigue, and am using Indigenous storytelling and teaching practices to help reduce the psychological effects of working with students from trauma. The results of my work have created more inclusion, connection, and collaboration among ethnically diverse teachers, and has mitigated depression, self-harming practices, and feelings of isolation in Black/African American, Native American and Latinx professional educators.