I intended to take a hiatus from writing for a while to deal with personal issues, but a YouTuber named Ami Pacheco inspired me to write again. You can see his thought provoking video here.
I remember a friend saying to me once, “Chris, you’re not a real Indian. And if you are, you’re the whitest Indian I know.”
When I was a kid, I started writing, scribbles in pink-bound notebooks, sonnets in sky-shaped clouds, and, squatting down in the country-side, I scrawled some unknown quantity like Jesus of Nazareth writing in the sand.
It’s an interesting time to be indigenous.
The title is paraphrased from a comic bit from the legendary Paul Mooney.
To say that the Black Hills (Kȟe Sapa) hold special significance for the Oceti Sakowin (The Great Sioux Nation) is an understatement. They’re not only our traditional homelands, where our ancestors once lived, they’re sacred.
Standing in a parking lot across the street from the 2014 Chamberlain High School commencement ceremony last Sunday, singers, supporters (Native and non-Native), students, and families crowded outside the National Guard Armory to
Morgan James Peters, 46, professionally known as "Mwalim DaPhunkee Professor," is a Mashpee Wampanoag, multifaceted performing artist, writer, media artist and educator, who swept the 2010 Jazz category with his album The Liberation Sessions winning the ‘Best Jazz Male’ as well as ‘Best
Music is a form of art. For the musician it is a way to express their form of originality, talent and or knowledge on the form of art they are presenting.
With identity misappropriation being a regular occurrence these days, my duties as a Native activist have kept me fairly busy.
In following the Washington football team mascot controversy, I read with interest, Gyasi Ross’ latest article, “Hush Money and Ransom: An Open Letter to Dan Snyder, the Idiot”.
In her excellent article on pow wow culture, Christina Rose raises concerns about how pow wows have changed in the past f
Last month, a few of my close girlfriends and I decided to have a girls night. We thought salsa dancing sounded like fun, so we braced the cold weather and ventured into DC, where we ended up at a small salsa dancing club located in Adams Morgan.