Remember the Power in Kinship
Hollis Flowers demonstrates how to harvest medicines on Sicangu Lakota lands
To end the week, we’re holding off on programming updates to share something that feels especially important at the moment. With so much happening in the world such as harmful decision making, food shortages, climate disasters, it can feel like everything is out of our control. But we believe moments like this call for a return to our roots and to our teachings.
For Indigenous communities, kinship is everything. It’s not just about who you’re related to by blood, but it’s a way of being in the world. Our ancestors built entire societies around the idea that we are all related (mitákuye oyás’iŋ). Our ancestors understood that every relationship carries responsibility to each other, to the land, to the water, to the buffalo, to future generations. This isn’t just a philosophy that was talked about, but it was a daily-life practice. Children were raised by many loving hands. Meals were shared across homes and harvested together. Homes were built with local materials and collective labor. Decisions were made together through dialogue with patience and intention, not dominance. In this system, no one was left behind because everyone mattered. Today, as global systems falter under the weight of climate change, war, and greed, that wisdom is more relevant than ever.
That ancestral worldview still lives in us. And it's the root of everything we do at Sicangu Co.
Sicangu Lakota singers sharing traditional songs with the community for healing and celebration”
The programs we've built didn’t start in boardrooms, but instead they started in conversations with our people. The community asked, How can we grow our own food again? How do we teach our children and adults the Lakota language? How can we restore our connection to the buffalo? So we listened. From that vision, we’ve co-created community gardens across the reservation. We launched Wakanyeja Ki Tokeyahci, our Lakota immersion school. We opened a local farmers market to support local producers. We brought back the buffalo and with them, the ceremonies, the teachings, and the harvest opportunities that ground us. We throw around the word “program” often, but this work is so much more than just programming. These initiatives are living expressions of kinship, memory, and self-determination.
Tatanka being cared for at the Wolakota Buffalo Range
In a world consumed by individualism and profit, these efforts are acts of resistance. When a family harvests food from their garden, they are refusing dependence. When a child prays or sings in Lakota, they are reminded that their identity is powerful. When a community comes together to harvest a buffalo, they are rekindling a sacred bond and connection to one another. These are small revolutions, rooted in ancestral knowledge. They show us that we don’t have to chase systems that were never built for us because we can build systems that reflect who we truly are. We’re not creating new lifeways, we’re reclaiming the ones that have always been ours. The path hasn’t been easy and at times, it felt nearly impossible. But it took visionaries who believed in the unseen to make it real and here we are. Your support makes this work possible, and it’s a model that can grow in communities across the nation.
Sicangu community members helping build community gardens
We’ve seen our people rise during moments of crisis. But now is the time to rise for each other in everyday life especially in times of joy, in ceremony, in healing, and in daily acts of care. The future isn’t something far away. It’s something we build each day through connection, language, growing food, and showing up for each other. This is the heart of kinship. This message is a good daily reminder for all of us as we move through work, family, and life, that the way forward is through connection, care, and community.
Sicangu Lakota family members at the Sicangu Harvest market
