From Chief Seattle to the President of the United States in 1852

"The President in Washington sends word that he wishes to buy our land. But how can you buy or sell the sky? The land? The idea is strange to us. If we do not own the freshness of the air and the sparkle of the water, how can you sell them?

Every part of this earth is sacred to my people. Every shining, pine needle, every humming insect. All are holy in the memory and experience of my people.

We know the sap which courses through the trees as we know the blood that courses through our veins. We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters. The bear, the deer, the great eagle, these are our brothers. The rocky crests, the juices in the meadow, the body heat of a pony, and man, all belong to the same family.

The shining water that moves in the streams and rivers is not just water, but the blood of our ancestors. If we sell you our land, you must remember that it is sacred. Each ghostly reflection in the clear waters of the lakes tells of events and memories in the life of my people. The waters murmur in the voice of my father's father.

The rivers ore our brothers. They quench our thirst. They carry our canoes and feed our children. So you must give to the river the kindness you would give any brother.

If we sell you our land, remember that the air is precious to us, that the air shares its spirit with all the life it supports. The wind that gave our grandfather his first breath also receives his last sigh. The wind also gives our children the spirit of life. So if we sell you our land, you must keep it apart and sacred, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow Flowers.

Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our Mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.

This we know: The earth does not belong to man, man belongs to the earth. All things are connected like the blood that unites us all. Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.

One thing we know: Our God is your God. The earth is precious to him and to harm the earth is to heap contempt on its Creator. Your destiny is a mystery to us. What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered? The wild horses tamed? What will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills is blotted by talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! And what is it to say goodbye to the swift pony and the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival.

When the last red man has vanished with his wilderness and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairie, will these shores and forests still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people left?

We love this earth as a newborn loves its mother's heartbeat. So if we sell you our land, love it as we have loved it. Care for it as we have cared for it. Hold in your mind the memory of the land as it is when you receive it. Preserve the land for all children and love it, as God loves us all.

As we are a part of the land, you too are part of the land. This earth is precious to us. It is also precious to you. One thing we know: There is only one God. No man, be he Red Man, or White Man, Can be apart.

We Are All Brothers"

Thanks to T.W.W. Buffalo for transcribing this and sending it in to us!
Old Frontier Builders and Consultants

Today is the first day of a new feature on NativeRadio.com. This column will present a series of articles about the Great Native American chiefs, their accomplishments and, alas, their sorrows. By this close-up look at the leaders who gave their all to try to save their peoples, I hope we will gain a better understanding of what happened and why, and how these courageous captains struggled against impossible odds.

There are few surprises to be found here, and almost no joy whatsoever. These are stories of sorrow and grief, of betrayal and ordeal beyond decency. You may ask, "Then why should we preserve these sad memories?"

The answers are clear and unequivocal. We must face their challenges, we must know their fear, we must keep forever alive the memory of our past in order to preserve our future. We must not allow our children to forget our Holocaust.

There is no joy in the past, but we can use it to illuminate our futures. We can never undo what happened, we cannot bring back what was lost. But we can raise our tear-stained faces, and feel the warmth of the sun, and use our knowledge of the past to build a better Native America for ourselves. In this third millennium, the past grows ever more remote and difficult to understand, but it is up to us to teach our children how to live with the betrayals and heartbreaks our grandparents knew, and how to bravely seek joy in this new world.

Native Americans must live with the knowledge of what was done to our elders. And, the children of the settlers must live with the knowledge of what their elders did. These are heavy burdens for both, but not yet ready to be laid aside.

The Great Chiefs were mighty men who faced impossible problems. How they dealt with them may provide lessons for a world that offers no compromises. As we journey through sorrow together, I hope you will show me your heart. Write to me at JoyceWorley@NativeRadio.com and give me your opinions, corrections, questions and suggestions. I will welcome your messages.

The Apaches:
Destined for Change


Quanah Parker:
The Great Chief of the Comanche


Pontiac:
Was His War the Best Chance?


Chief Joseph:
He Opened a Window on the Soul


Black Kettle:
Wisdom Could Not Prevail

Jim Thorpe: He Set the Standard

What Joe DiMaggio means to Italian Americans and Muhammad Ali represents for African Americans, Jim Thorpe is for Native Americans. He is, quite simply, one of the world's enduring sports heroes and the embodiment of his people's unquenchable fighting spirit.

James Francis Thorpe was born in a small one-room cabin in the Indian Territory. There's some confusion about the exact date of his birth, though May 28, 1887 is now generally accepted, because it is the one adopted by the Thorpe Estate.

The year 1912 proved a fateful one for Jim Thorpe. Never before had anyone soared so high and flown so far in athletics as the young man with the blood of the Sac and Fox tribes coursing through his veins. That was the year Thorpe came out of obscurity to stake his claim to sports immortality.