Heart of Native

08/01/2025

The Creator is trying to fix it.

08/01/2025

No, not for sale!!

07/30/2025

Buffalo Bill's Wild West show wasn't Joe Black Fox's cup of tea. Sure, the crowds cheered, the lights were bright, and the pay was decent. But for a Lakota chief, the thrill of the hunt was replaced by the hollowness of reenacting it for gasps and applause. Yet, Joe wasn't bitter. He missed his tribe, the whisper of the wind through the Dakota grasslands, the scent of sage after a summer rain. But a promise was a promise, and Joe had given his word to Sitting Bull's nephew, a young warrior yearning for a taste of the white man's world.
One day, a new face appeared backstage. A skinny woman with eyes that held the wisdom of a thousand moons and a camera that seemed an extension of herself. This was Gertrude Käsebier. Unlike the gawking crowds, she saw the man beneath the headdress, the yearning in his gaze. She requested Joe's portrait, not as a savage warrior, but as a Lakota chief, a leader.
Intrigued, Joe agreed. In her studio, a haven of soft light and Navajo rugs, Käsebier captured not just his stoic features but the flicker of defiance in his eyes. Sessions turned into conversations, a bridge built between cultures. Joe spoke of his people, the vastness of the prairie, the harmony they once shared with the land. Käsebier listened, captivated.
One afternoon, Joe brought out a worn flute, its wood polished smooth by countless hands. He played a haunting melody, a song of longing for the land of his ancestors. The sound filled the studio, a stark contrast to the raucous cheers of the Wild West show. Tears welled in Käsebier's eyes.
"They will never understand," Joe said, his voice low. "The land is not just ground to walk on, it's our heartbeat."
Käsebier vowed to share his story. Through her photographs, she portrayed the Lakota people not as savage warriors, but as individuals with rich cultures and deep connections to their land. Joe, the reluctant performer, became an unwitting ambassador.
The experience awakened something in Joe. He started sharing stories with the other performers, correcting misconceptions, planting seeds of understanding. He couldn't change the show, but he could change hearts, one conversation at a time.
The photograph of Joe Black Fox, captured by Käsebier, became an iconic image. It wasn't just a portrait; it was a silent plea, a bridge between two cultures. And for Joe Black Fox, despite the confines of the Wild West show, it rekindled a spark of hope, a reminder that even in the heart of a manufactured world, the spirit of his people could endure.

07/30/2025

"The rich would have to eat money if the poor did not provide food."
If farmers stopped working, the rich would be starving with full wallets Food doesn’t grow in bank vaults.
No matter how much money someone has, they still depend on the hands of others to survive. It’s easy to get caught up in wealth, status, or success—but at the core of every functioning society are the people doing the essential work: the farmers, the harvesters, the cooks, the cleaners, the builders.
If those people stopped showing up, money would lose all meaning. You can’t eat cash. You can’t cook a stock portfolio. It’s human effort—day in and day out—that puts food on tables, keeps lights on, and keeps the world moving.
We often treat wealth like the measure of value, but it’s the ones doing the work—often unseen and underpaid—who hold the real power. They are the roots of security and survival.
True wealth isn’t about how much you can buy. It’s about recognizing and respecting those who make life possible.

06/24/2025

The First Americans: An Apache Mother and Children, Late 1800s. 🪶🌎🇲🇽 This powerful portrait captures an Apache woman and her children, photographed in northern Mexico in the late 19th century. Long before borders divided the land, Indigenous peoples, including the Apache, roamed freely across vast territories, from the Southwestern U.S. into northern Mexico, carrying rich traditions, deep resilience, and an unbreakable connection to the land. Their faces remind us of a truth often forgotten: the original Americans were here long before the creation of maps, flags, or frontiers. They are not merely part of history — they are history.

05/27/2025

05/23/2025

Nine Indians , 2 Men , 3 Women , 2 Boys and 2 Girls were murdered at Fall Creek , Pendleton , Madison County , Indiana 1824........For the first time in the American History 3 white Men were hung for killing native

04/24/2025

"The Flight of Unity"
In a vast and untamed wilderness, where the rivers carve their way through the earth, and the trees stretch their limbs toward the sky, two great herons stood on the cusp of change. They were not ordinary birds; they were guardians of the earth’s stories, protectors of the natural balance. The herons’ wings, large and powerful, were the symbols of freedom, grace, and the unity of all life.
One of them, a wise old heron named Asimah, had lived many seasons, watching the changes in the world with a patient eye. The other, Kahani, was young and curious, eager to learn from the wisdom that the old heron carried. Together, they stood tall on the shore, their strong, rooted legs planted firmly in the soil that connected them to the earth. Their wings, though still, shimmered with the promise of flight.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the landscape, Asimah spoke of the deep connection that all living things shared—how each bird, each tree, and every stone had a purpose in the great web of life. "We are not just creatures of flight," said Asimah, "but we are the links that connect the sky to the earth, the past to the future. We are the voices of those who came before us, and we must carry their stories as we fly."
Kahani looked at the sprawling landscape before them, the dense forest, the rivers that wound like ribbons of life, and the sky stretching endlessly above. "I wish to fly, to see beyond these trees, and to understand the stories you speak of," said Kahani, his eyes full of wonder.
And so, the two herons spread their wings together, the elder and the younger, each with their unique rhythm. As Asimah took the lead, the wind gently lifted both birds into the air. They soared above the treetops, their feathers brushing against the sky. Below them, the world seemed so small, yet the connection to the earth was ever-present. They flew not just for the sake of freedom, but as a reminder of the unity that bound them to the earth and to each other.
The flight was not a simple journey across the sky, but a journey of understanding and remembrance. They flew together through the rising and falling of the sun, through storms and clear skies, but always with the knowledge that their purpose was one of unity. They carried with them the stories of the earth and the promise to pass them on.
In the end, it was not the destination that mattered, but the act of flying itself—the shared experience, the wisdom passed between generations, and the bond formed in the sky. Asimah and Kahani returned to the ground, not as separate beings, but as one, connected through flight, through the earth, and through the infinite sky.
Their dance in the air was a symbol of the timeless unity that exists between all creatures and the natural world, a reminder that no matter how far we may travel, we are always rooted in the earth beneath us.

04/24/2025

"The Dance of the Hummingbird"
In the sacred land of the ancient forests, where the trees whispered to the wind and the stars spoke in secret language, there lived a small, but fierce and radiant creature— the Hummingbird. Known as Kiawi, this bird was the keeper of joy, light, and movement.
Kiawi's wings were a blur of speed, faster than any creature, and his heart beat with the rhythm of the earth itself. He flitted from flower to flower, carrying messages of hope and renewal wherever he went. The flowers, in turn, shared their beauty with him, offering bursts of color to match his energy, and in return, Kiawi would spread the fragrance of joy across the land.
But the hummingbird’s power was not only in his flight. His wings, which fluttered as fast as time itself, were also the wings of transformation. Every time he hovered near a flower, something magical happened. The petals became brighter, the earth richer, and the people who gazed upon him would feel their spirits lifted.
One day, as Kiawi flew through the forest, a storm approached, darkening the sky and blocking the sunlight. The animals were frightened, their spirits dampened by the shadows. But Kiawi, fearless in the face of the storm, soared higher and higher, calling to the sun, reminding it of its place in the sky. The storm began to part, and the sun returned, casting its golden glow over the land.
From that day forward, the people of the forest knew that no matter how dark the world might seem, the light of hope would always return, carried by the wings of the hummingbird.
His image, outlined in vibrant reds and deep blacks, became a symbol of resilience. Like the flowers he nourished, and the earth he enriched, Kiawi showed that even in the smallest form, great change could occur.

04/05/2025

Native American sign language: Illustrated guides to 400 gestures
The illustrations below showing how to communicate using Native American/”Indian” sign language, come from two vintage sources — one in the ’50s, and the other (more comprehensive guide) from the ’20s.
Indian sign language (1954)
From The Golden Digest, Issue 1 (1954)
Once we had many Indian tribes in our country. They did not all speak the same language. But with sign language, one tribe could understand another. Here are some things they would say. Words shown: Sunset, yes, I/me/my, go/go away, horse/horse rider, buffalo, man, rising sun, tipi, you, night

04/05/2025

This map should be included in every history book...
History is not there for you to like or dislike. It is there for you to learn from it. And if it offends you, even better. Because then you are less likely to repeat it. It’s not yours for you to erase or destroy. ❤️

04/04/2025

Corinth,Mississippi