8/6/2019 SEMINOLE VOICES COLUMN 3: Seminole Tribune
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Seminole Tribune
TMO Column III-2011-Feb14
Readers:
Music has always been my medicine. When I was a youngster, my
moms lullabies would rock me tosleep and ease the pain. I also
remember how my dads eight track player made our cross country
summer treks seem less arduous. The awesome northern songs of
the Red Leaf Takoja helped me get
through the school year, as I worked towards the summer pow-wow
circuit. As a teen, the bass of
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five blasting through the
speakers of my brothers boom-box helped
me through basketball drills. As I stumbled through my college
years, Bob Marley motivated me while
the psychedelic melodies of Jerry Garcia and the Grateful Dead
soothed my restless soul. As a single
mom, my little Dakota and I would spend every Saturday night
dancing in the living room to the theme
song to Cops. Now, as a mother of two, who is well into her
forties, I find great comfort in the feminine
fire power of Mary J. Blige and Joss Stone.
You would think because music was always such a big part of my
conscious life that I would have learned
to sing, play an instrument, or at least try karaoke. Not a
chance. What I did get out of music was,
however, much more valuable. I grew a powerful dedication to the
influence of lyrical masters and their
effect on society.
As I sat down to write this issues column, I played the music of
those who inspire me today. These
words came blasting through my speakers and hit me right in the
soul. Years ago my people were
hunted because of where they lived.. they were driven out of
their homes where they have been
established for many years one day terrorists came from overseas
they raped and pillaged my
people the only options that we were left with was fight,
surrender, or die we aint gonna surrender.
We weathered the storm and through the rain, out of the darkness
and into the day The words and
voices of Zack and Spencer Battiest are forever in my head and
etched deep into my Seminole
consciousness.
I then played Hopi Reggae Artist, Casper Lomayesvas latest album
(the unmastered version), and
listened to the gut-wrenching words of My Brothers Keeper. A
song written in response to the life,
addiction, and eventual death of his brother. Lyrics such as, Me
warn them about the poison but
them no listen, and eventually, how them build their own coffins
will resonate in the caverns of the
listeners psyche for a long time.
I decided to dive deeper into native music by listening to Keith
Secolas, Indian Carz, and memories ofdoing the Snake Dance through
the Hard Rock Caf in Washington, DC, on the eve of Obamas
inauguration brought a huge smile to my face.
I followed up by playing the inspiring words penned by Micki
Free. His song, Wounded Knee, is as
much of an anthem for Indian Country as the Battiests The Storm
is for Seminoles.
