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.
8/6/2019 SEMINOLE VOICES COLUMN 3: Seminole Tribune
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