Medicine Wheel

09/10/2025

*** "Who are you?" an official asked after his stunning win***
In a moment that left the world in awe, a Native American from the tiny Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, Billy Mills, charged down the track at the Tokyo 1964 Olympic Games to win the 10,000-meter run. It was one of the greatest upsets in Olympic history, and over 50 years later, it remains a powerful tale of perseverance and triumph.
Mills, a member of the Oglala Lakota tribe, faced immense challenges from a young age. Orphaned by the age of 12, he attended the Haskell Institute, a boarding school for Native Americans, where he discovered his passion for running. His talent took him to the University of Kansas, where he became a three-time All-American in cross-country.
Despite qualifying for the Olympics, Mills wasn't expected to win. His times lagged nearly a minute behind the world record-holder, Ron Clarke of Australia. Adding to the challenge, Mills managed his Type 2 diabetes during the grueling race. But on that unforgettable day, he defied all expectations, sprinting ahead in the final moments to claim victory with an Olympic record time, nearly 50 seconds faster than his personal best.
"Who are you?" an official asked Mills after his stunning win. "A Lakota boy from little Pine Ridge," he replied, a moment that still resonates with pride and inspiration. Mills went on to co-found the nonprofit Running Strong for American Indian Youth and received honors such as the Presidential Citizens Medal and the Theodore Roosevelt Award by the NCAA.
A true story of overcoming adversity, Billy Mills' victory is not just a sports achievement but a beacon of hope and inspiration for generations.

08/24/2025

In a sun-scorched mesa of Arizona during the 1930s Great Depression, 34-year-old Rosa "Desert" Montoya led her Yaqui-Apache family in thriving despite dust storms and poverty. They grew prickly pear cactus fruit and tepary beans in sandy plots, raised chickens for eggs and feathers, and wove baskets from yucca fibers for trade. Rosa crafted adobe ovens to bake flatbread, while her children collected mesquite pods for flour and herded goats for milk, selling cheese to passing traders. Facing land erosion and job scarcity, their desert wisdom sustained them. Rosa taught her daughter: “The sun burns, but our roots drink deep.”

08/18/2025

By Mike Koshmrl In late April, Jason Baldes sat at a table at the Wind River Tribal Buffalo Initiative’s headquarters processing a setback to his vision of restoring free-roaming bison to the Wind River Indian Reservation.  Baldes, the initiative’s executive director, is a member of the East...

08/13/2025

08/12/2025

Tokyo, 1964. The Olympic stadium was buzzing with anticipation.
The 10,000-meter final was stacked with giants—Ron Clarke of Australia, the world-record holder. Tunisia’s Mohammed Gammoudi. Ethiopia’s Mamo Wolde.
And then there was Billy Mills. A young man from Pine Ridge, South Dakota. A U.S. Marine. A Native American from the Oglala Lakota Nation. And to nearly everyone watching… a name they’d never heard.
The gun fired. Lap after lap, Mills stayed in the pack—quiet, steady, unnoticed. With one lap to go, the pace exploded. Clarke surged. Gammoudi moved wide. Mills was jostled, boxed in. His chance looked gone.
But Billy Mills found something deep inside himself.
He swung to the outside—lane four—and launched into a sprint that defied belief. He flew past Clarke. Then Gammoudi. And in a flash, he crossed the finish line in 28:24.4—an Olympic record, and nearly 50 seconds faster than he’d ever run before.
The stadium froze. The announcer shouted: “Look at Mills! Look at Mills!”
It was one of the greatest upsets in Olympic history.
No American had ever won the 10,000 meters. No one expected him to.
But Billy Mills didn’t stop at gold.
He dedicated the rest of his life to uplifting Native youth. He co-founded Running Strong for American Indian Youth, bringing clean water, food, housing, and hope to underserved communities. Diagnosed with diabetes, he turned his fight into advocacy—helping others live healthier lives.
He didn’t just break a tape at the finish line.
He broke barriers. He broke silence. He broke expectations.
And in doing so, he showed the world what it means to run with heart.

08/11/2025

On this day in Native history—July 8, 1912—a quiet runner from the Hopi Nation stepped onto the world stage in Stockholm, Sweden.

His name was Louis Tewanima, and he came from the ancient village of Shungopavi in northeastern Arizona.

He wasn’t wearing fancy shoes. He had no coach or team of sponsors. He ran barefoot—fueled by heart, heritage, and the memory of the mesas back home.

The event? The very first Olympic 10,000-meter race.

Tewanima, representing both the United States and his Hopi people, moved across the track with relentless grace—and when the dust settled, he had earned the Silver Medal. To this day, no Native American has ever placed higher in that race.

But his story is about more than a medal.

Tewanima ran with the spirit of a people who’d been walking, running, and thriving across Turtle Island for generations. He trained by running up sandstone cliffs. He carried the heavy burden of displacement—sent to Carlisle Indian School—and turned it into strength.

He ran not to escape, but to honor.

And over a century later, his legacy still echoes—in every Native athlete who dares to dream, in every runner who draws strength from the land beneath their feet.

Louis Tewanima didn’t just win a race.

He carried a people forward.

07/14/2025