HISTORY MADE AT LAKESHORE STATE PARK-TEACHING LODGE BRINGS HEALING

Nine years ago, an Ojibwe grandmother from Canada began walking around the Great Lakes to raise awareness about water issues.  Armed with a copper pail of water and an eagle staff, she embarked alone on a journey which took seven years to complete.  As the water walk progressed, others joined her along the way.  

It was in Milwaukee, however, that a new dream would take hold.  As Josephine Mandamin looked out over Lakeshore State Park in Milwaukee, she had a vision that a teaching lodge would be erected on the shores of Lake Michigan.

 

Her adopted son, Gabriel Peltier, caught that vision and began soliciting help to make it a reality.  Along the way he encountered resistance, partially due to the difficulty of articulating what this vision would look like.  Who was it for?  How large of an event would it be?  What was the purpose?  

Having been advised to let others do it, he refused to give up on this vision.  Persistently he called on a handful of people and meetings were held.  Discussions centered on the purpose of the lodge.  Different people came and went.  More meetings were held and again, discussions turned to the purpose of the lodge.  Wheels were spinning but little traction was gained until late last year when a new committee was convened and an action plan developed.  A February retreat in Keshena resulted in the formation of a “program” for the four days.  Progress was being made.

However, challenges remained.  The committee was spread out throughout Wisconsin and into Canada.  Leadership was fluid.  This was both good and bad.  Different people stepped up at the appropriate times but somebody needed to drive the ship.  Illnesses and distance were obstacles that needed to be overcome.  Face to face meetings were difficult to arrange and it was easy to put the event on the back burner as most committee members were involved with other community events including the Indian Summer Festival held just two weeks before.   

As the date of the event drew closer, the vision became much clearer.  Roles and responsibilities were assigned.  A schedule was finalized.  Elders and teachers were invited.  And funding was secured.  All that was left—build the lodge with the hope that the people would hear the voice of the “Little Boy” dewe'gan (drum) and come.  We are thankful to the Three Fires Lodge and Eddie Benton Banai for the teachings about the “Little Boy” and his songs.

But first, work needed to be done.  Pole holes were dug several days before the lodge was built.  This would save time because the lodge had to go up before the sun went down.  On Wednesday, September 26^th, a small group of volunteers began harvesting over 60 lodge poles.  The next day, the sacred fire was started and a sunrise ceremony was held.  As I shared a healing song, I prayed that this lodge would be a place of healing for those that would come, for the land and for the water.  This would be the first lodge ever built on the man-made island which forms Lakeshore State Park and perhaps the first time a teaching lodge had gone up in a long time on the Milwaukee shores of Lake Michigan.

After a quick breakfast, students from the Indian Community School, along with community volunteers began erecting this 60 foot long lodge on the shores of Lake Michigan.  Assisted by the children, asema (tobacco) and nibi (water) was prayerfully put in each hole, connecting the lodge poles to Mother Earth.  Both men and women shared in the work, the poles carefully tied by the women. By noon, the “ribs” of the teaching lodge were in place and by sun down, the lodge was complete. 

While the work we did was serious, there were lighter moments throughout the four days.  One such moment occurred as I was sawing one of the braces.  At the same time, Diane Amour was attempting to tie the brace to the lodge pole.  Every time I stopped sawing she’d thank me.  Well I thought she was thanking me for sawing the branch so I’d saw even harder.  However, she was thanking me for stopping because the saw dust was getting in her eyes.  At other times we had so many helpers that were tripping over each other.

The next day we stood facing the east.  As the sun came up, the “Little Boy” was sounded and we greeted the new day.  Gabriel Peltier shared his pipe.  Water and berries were passed around by the women and all partook.  Songs were sung and prayers said as the sun began to warm the land.  This would be the first day of teachings and students from the Indian Community School were expected to arrive.  In addition to traditional teachings by Ojibwa, Ottawa, Potawatomi, Ho Chunk, Menominee and Oneida elders, games of Lacrosse were planned, as well as a nature walk identifying plant medicines growing on the island.  That evening a social was planned featuring singing, drumming and dancing.

Saturday would prove challenging due to off again, on again rain and a nearby visit by the President of the United States.  That did not deter the 25-30 people from showing up at 6 am to greet the new day and the changing of the seasons.  I was honored to be asked to lead that sunrise ceremony and all pipe carriers were invited to put out their sacred items.  

Later that morning, we were joined by about 30 students participating in the Student Conservation Association, a non-profit group whose mission is to build the next generation of conservation leaders.

As I mentioned, President Obama was scheduled to speak that afternoon across from the island where we had built the teaching lodge.  This resulted in the access points being secured, along with the noise from the rally itself.  However, we did not allow this to deter us and in fact, many were hoping the President would see the teaching lodge and tipi and choose to pay us a visit.  Unfortunately that did not happen but it didn’t stop us from enjoying a feast of turkey, fry bread and wild rice without him. Finally the week would come to a close on Sunday afternoon.  

After an enjoyable elders panel featuring Josephine Mandamin, Frank Ettawageshik, Skip Twardosz, Mary Ellen Baker and Delbert Charging Crow, the lodge was taken down.  

While the physical structure was removed and the land returned to its pristine condition, the memory of that lodge remains etched on our hearts.  Healing did take place over those four days.  The community came together to share and to learn, friendships were made and in some cases renewed and plans were made to return to that place where the vision was fulfilled.

Amazing Grace

Artist in REZidence

For the past five years or so, we have been driving up to White Earth, MN for various cultural camps including winter story camp, berry camp and ricing camp.  At these camps we have learned about the language, culture, crafts, and the harvesting and processing of traditional foods.  We have also built relationships.

During one of those trips, we visited with Anne Dunn, a remarkable storyteller and author who took us over to meet her daughter, Annie Humphrey.  Annie is a singer/songwriter and a recording artist whose music has been used in movie scores.  We also found out that she is a visual artist.  When we met Annie, she was painting her cupboards, with trees, animals and symbols.  We also noticed that her tables and chairs had also been painted.

This got us thinking.  Amy is a middle school teacher and in Wisconsin, Act 31 requires that schools teach about Wisconsin Indians' History and Culture.  As music teacher, how could she integrate what she had been learning at these camps into the curriculum?  On the long drive back to Wisconsin, we would bounce ideas off of each other and one idea was to have an “Artist in Residence” program and the perfect person would be Annie Humphrey.

A vision was cast but there were several hurdles to overcome.  What would the program look like?  Could we raise the money to make this a reality?  Could schedules be coordinated?  Would there be enough time to complete the goals?

Through community networking, the vision started becoming reality.  We were encouraged to write a grant to the Racine Arts Council and to our delight, we were given the largest grant for that cycle.  Although a partnership with another community organization fell through, the Racine YMCA stepped in, along with the Kiwanis of Racine and the Golden Rondelle.

Last week, Annie Humphrey spent a week in Racine, working with the middle schools students at Starbuck Middle School.  The goals for the week were to educated students about Native American culture and music, complete a mural with the art students, compose a song with the choir students and to debut the song during a concert featuring the students.

One week ago today, we were running from early morning until late at night and wondering  if we were going to accomplish our goals but Annie, Amy and the students accomplished this and more.

Annie enjoyed meeting the students!  She asked Amy if she could speak to her enrichment class (like a study hall).  When she found out a student played the violin she invited him to accompany the choir at the end of the week.  She discovered a girl in the general music was a natural at playing the flute and invited her to “join the band”. 

What impressed me most was watching this woman from the reservation engaging all the students, regardless of their ethnic or socio-economic background and in return, seeing how the students embraced her.  She was a natural in drawing out their hidden talents and they responded to that.  In the end, many wished that they had more time with Annie and she herself remarked that she was exhausted because the kids always wanted more!  But she also said she wouldn’t have it any other way because she enjoyed giving.

While the highlight of the week was supposed to be the unveiling of the mural and the performance of the song that Annie and the students composed, I think it actually was the lives that were touched and the relationships that were built. 

As we packed up after the concert, Annie went over to the chalkboard and began writing, “I just wanted to tell you what a great week I spent here with all of you.  Be Good, Be Strong, and always Be Brave. Love, Annie”

Plastic Shaman

Prior to 1978, it was illegal to practice “ceremonial and traditional rites” in the United States, a country that had made the freedom of religion a major tenet of their existence.  Many practices were driven under ground and to this day, there are still some that are hesitant to share their knowledge with others-especially outsiders.

I think this is compounded even more by those in the majority culture who co-opt  Native American teachings and take them as their own.  It has gotten so bad that some leading elders have banned non-Native Americans from attending ceremonies.

I don’t blame them for taking this approach.  For 500 years we were told that it was illegal to practice our traditional ways.  If that wasn’t bad enough, once it was legal, new agers stole and sold our traditions.  Instead of seeking out their own teachings, they try and find something mystical in ours. 

Worse yet, armed with a little knowledge, they appoint themselves as authorities on everything Indian.  Some set up sweat lodges and refer to themselves as shamans.  Sadly I have seen people offer to do ceremonies for a fee while advertising their services.

Most traditional people I know do not refer to themselves as shamans or medicine men, do not charge for ceremonies and will not advertise their services.  Most our humble and downplay what they do.  In addition, they do not push people to the extreme.

I have never been in a sweat lodge in which the facilitator wouldn’t let someone leave.  In fact they often are watching out for those who are in there for the first time.  They check on participants and ask how everyone is holding up.  These ceremonies are not about endurance nor are they meant to invoke some esoteric experience in the participant.  Instead, it is a place where you go pray for others.

Yes it can be renewing for the participant but the focus should be on the needs of others, not what you can get or gain from it.  When I was deathly ill, my friend Skip and a group of friends gathered in the middle of winter at the lodge.  They put aside their own comfort to pray for me, not unlike the Christian principle of fasting in which you neglect the physical needs of the body in order seek God.  It wasn’t about them or what they could get from the experience.

I have often joked that we could put out a shingle and make a lot of money pedaling ceremonies to new agers willing to pay big money to participate in a “traditional Native American ceremony”.  We could issue membership cards and sell plastic rattles, beads and other paraphernalia.  But I could never do that because it is simply wrong. 

In 2009, the eyes of the world were turned to Sedona, AZ as word spread that three people had died and many more injured in a sweat lodge ceremony gone bad.  James Arthur Ray, a new age guru and self help author had charged participants $10,000 to push themselves to the limit.  The capstone was this “sweat lodge” ceremony in which he ignored the pleas of help from those concerned about the erratic breathing of several participants.  Others were dragged out vomiting and continued his two hour ceremony even while others tended to the sick.

After looking at the pictures of the sweat lodge and watching the video accounts, there was so much wrong with what took place-from charging participants to the type of covering used on this “lodge”.  Mr. Ray had no authority to conduct these ceremonies nor does it appear the training to do so.

Last week, justice was served when Ray was convicted of three counts of negligent homicide.  Unfortunately there will still be plastic shaman out there who will continue to pedal their wares to unsuspecting and gullible people seeking a real experience but instead finding themselves led down the road to perdition.

More Musings....

1. My daughter graduated on Sunday June 5th. I had to sit on the bleachers for 3 hours. I asked my son if I could pay him not to attend graduation next year. He asked, “How much?” I said name your price….

2. I spent $89 at the gas station and $70 at the grocery store. Neither clerk said “thank you” but instead gave me a “have a good one.” For that much money I should at least get a thank you….

3. Somebody suggested I tell my wife I am going to take her somewhere “expensive” and then drive her to the gas station where $100 gets you a tank of gas and a slurpee….

4. Hats off or should I say caps off to all the recent graduates. My daughter couldn’t wait to graduate. I told her I am proud of her, room and board is due on the 1st of the month-welcome to adulthood…

5. Last week saw a couple of days that were unbearably hot. When it gets this hot, people take risks they shouldn’t. Word of advice, don’t swim in Lake Michigan if there are no lifeguards present. And to the bicyclist I almost hit because you ran a red light, if you are on a bike, you still need to follow the rules of the road. You almost ended up as my hood ornament-next time you might not be so lucky…

6. Wisconsin Emergency Management observed “Heat Awareness” day last Thursday. On Wednesday it was 95 degrees, Thursday it was 50 degrees. Somehow I think we should have observed it the day before…

7. Speaking of “Heat Awareness” day, my buddy said his dogs were celebrating it also (I’m not gonna go there)…

8. Speaking of “heat”, Rep. Wiener is sure living up to his name. I was surprised that liberal talk show host Ed Schulz was calling for Wiener’s resignation based on his lack of character. Nice to see someone from the left stand up for integrity and character.  Ed Schulz called it like it is-no matter how "good" you may be at defending your cause-it's all about character and Wiener has a serious deficit in that department.

A Tribute to a Friend...

This past week was “bittersweet”.

Last Sunday afternoon (June 5th) we watched our daughter walk across the stage at Horlick High School as she received her diploma. We saw many of these “kids” grow into adults over the past four years and that afternoon they spoke of the opportunities that awaited them. They were ready to take the world by storm and follow their dreams, where ever they may lead.

We were the same way. To naïve to know any better, we were willing to take risks. You couldn’t tell us no because we knew we could do whatever we set out to do. And as we plotted our life course, it was going to be smooth sailing all the way. Go to college, start a career making $100,000, get married, raise a family, retire, travel and then die peacefully in our sleep.

The funny thing is-life has a way of taking us down that bumpy, curvy road instead of the straight, smooth one we intended to travel.

I still remember naively exchanging wedding vows with Amy. We were young and dumb. We had this perfect picture painted and we didn’t understand why this married couple chuckled at the vows we wrote. But reality sets in and there is a reason that you agree to stay together “for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.”

Late last year, my friend Dick Bayer found out that a tumor on his brain was cancerous. At 64, Dick was in the second half of his life. He had embarked on a second career as the Veteran Service Officer for Racine County (a job I thought was tailor made for him), his grand children were reaching adulthood and I am sure his thoughts were turning to the day that he would retire to spend the rest of his days with his wife Karen.

Instead his world was turned upside down, overnight, as this once healthy man would face months of medical challenges related to both the progression of the cancer and the treatment he would receive. Most people would be scared and I am sure there was a part of Dick that was, but Dick wasn’t “most people.”

Dick Bayer was a man of faith and going into this battle, he knew that his God could very well heal him or that his God could call him home. In so many words, Dick was comfortable with that. If he was healed, it would be a testimony and if he died, it would be his gain because he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, where he was going. Dick knew that this world was not his home but that he was just passing through. That reassurance drove everything that Dick did, including how he coped with this horrific disease.

Six years ago, I almost died from a severe case of pancreatitis. I spent 28 days in ICU and 38 days in the hospital. My recovery took nearly a year and that experience has profoundly impacted my life to this day. Dick and his wife prayed for me and when I came out of ICU and was coherent, Dick came and sat with me, offering words of encouragement.

I mention that because the first time I saw Dick after he began his treatments, we spoke about the future. In so many words, Dick implied that I knew what it was like to stand at death’s door and to be ok with either outcome. When they wheeled me into ICU, I didn’t know if I was ever going home but I was at peace with whatever happened. In the days that followed, my wife was faced with losing her husband of 14 years and though she struggled, she also found a peace that “transcends all understanding.” As we left that day, I told Dick, either way you win. He knew what I meant.

That Sunday afternoon we watched our daughter graduate but Sunday evening we said goodbye to an old friend. I don’t know why but this was the hardest funeral I have ever attended. I wasn’t as close to Dick as I could have been. Life gets in the way. But I respected Dick.

Usually I am not at a loss for words, but on Sunday night I had a hard time expressing my thoughts when asked to record a video of recollections for the family. Perhaps it was surreal waiting in line to greet the family and then seeing my friend laying there for the first time. It became real-he was gone.

But Monday was a different story as I attended the celebration of Dick’s life. Songs were sung, stories were told, family members shared and the pastor gave the most unique eulogy I think I have ever heard-he began by talking about Racine’s greatest inventors and businessmen-men who we would deem as great men. And then he put Dick in that same group as he relayed his stories about Dick.

For just a moment, we were given a glimpse inside the private life of Dick Bayer and the funny thing is-he wasn’t much different than I had pictured him to be. With Dick, what you saw was what you got-in a good way. He had a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous grin. He was always smiling. He was a man of integrity. He was a man of faith. He was tender hearted. He was a compassionate warrior and a servant leader. He was the real deal!

Both Dick and his wife Karen are relational. They mentored married couples. They served their church. They genuinely cared about people. Dick was a role model-the type of person you could look up to. He made you feel appreciated. He listened. He encouraged. He was supportive. He stood by his wife’s side and supported her career as the Executive Director of Leadership Racine and he supported his church through good times and bad. As I told his pastor, Dick never had roast pastor for lunch on Sunday afternoons.

He was faithful. His Christian faith encompassed everything he did. He lived it 24/7 and it shaped who he was. He saw his work with the veterans, not just as a job, but as a ministry. He didn’t need to preach because his life was a living testimony of his faith and his actions spoke louder than words. He walked the talk! He trusted his God to provide and when looking for a job, he told his support group to watch-God would provide. Though I don’t have time to go into it now, there were several twists and turns leading to his last position but it was evident God’s hand was in it.

He was a compassionate warrior, a veteran who cared about other veterans. He was a man who stood up to injustice. He marched in Washington and was a card carrying member of the NAACP. He adopted a Vietnamese family, becoming a surrogate father to the children after their own father passed away. And he was loved by his children and his grandchildren.

And he was a servant leader-whether greeting at church or serving on the church board, Dick would often be found serving others behind the scenes-shunning the limelight that so many others crave.

As we celebrated Dick’s life, we laughed and cried but in the end we knew, all was well….

That doesn’t take away the void left in our hearts - we still mourn the loss of this man we knew and respected but we are left with the hope that we will see him again.

During his illness I prayed for Dick. Like so many I prayed for a miracle, knowing that God could heal him. I begged and pleaded. But I also knew that God is sovereign and that he sees the entire picture where as we see just one small part of it. If we truly believe that we are all connected in some way, Dick’s life and his death have meaning and that one day we will see how all of our struggles and trials fit together to bring about God’s purpose in this life and beyond.

About a week before Dick left us, I was praying for him when a Chris Tomlin song – I Will Rise - came on and the words spoke to my heart:

There's a peace I've come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There's an anchor for my soul
I can say "It is well"

That was Dick, his heart and flesh were failing but he was able to say “it is well” because he could see that the finish line was in sight and that the race he was running was almost over.

But it is the refrain that gave me reassurance as Tomlin sang:

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise, I will rise

That was the promise that Dick held onto, no more sorrow, no more pain…

On Wednesday, June 1st-Dick Bayer’s name was called and he rose before his God, finishing the race that was set before him. And as he crossed that finish line, he heard these words- “Well done thy good and faithful servant! Welcome home.”

In our Ojibwa language we have no word for goodbye. Instead we say “Gigawabamin” or simply stated, “See you later.” Sunday and Monday were not goodbye in the truest sense-because I know that one day I will see my friend again. As I touched the coffin one last time, I said to Dick, see you later my friend, see you later….