So, where’s all the Indians?” asked Yaynicut Franco, one of the Wukchumni adults. The whiteness of the conference was a bit shocking to us, given the title: “Quakers, First Nations, and American Indians.”
“Imagine what would happen,” said one of the Quaker teens, “if a Quaker group held a conference called ‘Quakers and LGBTQ People’ with no LGBTQ people!”
Looking out across the dance floor at the audience seated on aluminum bleachers and standing along the prison gymnasium walls, the incongruity was glaringly obvious. Me, with my Irish complexion, taking the microphone to make a statement to scores of Native Americans during their powwow. I could not even guess how many different tribal backgrounds were present.
As I write this in late November 2013, Americans across the country are gathering together in their homes to give thanks. In southeastern Colorado, Cheyenne and Arapaho people are gathering together, too, but for a different reason. This week marks the 149th anniversary of the massacre at Sand Creek, where on November 29, 1864, the U.S.
Manifest Destiny Revisited
by Laurie Childers
The high plains summer day had ended – long and hot, heavy with spiritual ceremony, with talk of intergenerational trauma, with concern for the earth and for human societies. It was dark, and thirty of us were gathered under the a canopy of branches, introducing ourselves in a talking circle.