Well, things have changed since her times. We are no longer that modest, and that “woman shall not walk before man” kind of bullshit doesn’t go over well nowadays. Basically though, I don’t think things have gotten that much better for women—white, black, or red.
It is to AIM’s everlasting credit that it tried to change men’s attitudes toward women. In the movement we were all equal. Some of the decisions were made by the women—for instance older women at Calico telling the men to take over Wounded Knee. And the men always put the safety of their women first. When the bullets started to fly, Pedro Bisonette covered my body with his own, and a sixteen-year-old kid did the same, putting himself between me and the feds’ fire when I was walking to the outhouse. After the big shoot-out at Oglala, on June 26, 1975, during which two FBI agents were killed, Joe Killsright Stuntz caught a rifle bullet between his eyes trying to cover the escape of the AIM group in order to give the women a chance to get away. So while I criticize some of our men for macho attitudes, I also have to remember those who put their bodies on the line for us.
We Indians have had some token progress but even that is being taken away from us by the government and Supreme Court. We’re actually going backwards, economically and politically. I am sick and tired of all the bullshit that has been dumped on us by the wasichu for more than five hundred years after we were “discovered” by a fellow who was merely eight thousand miles off course and who thought he had landed in India. I am tired of being dominated by an alien and hostile culture. I am tired of the pressure to adapt to the white men’s idea of beauty, which prods me to have an ivory skin, to be as thin as a rail but have big breasts, to spend money on all kinds of crap to have “glorious silky hair,” to be manicured by a “nail artist,” and to shave the hair nature made grow under my armpits. I am sick and tired of being asked to conform to standards that are not our own. I am sick and tired of being forced to live within a society dominated by money, or in the case of us native peoples, by the total lack of it. I am sick and tired of seeing our men driven by despair, boredom, and lack of anything meaningful to do to find oblivion in alcohol, to commit suicide, or to end up in prison. I am sick and tired of seeing Indian people being driven by prevailing conditions into violence against each other. I am sick and tired of seeing the steady erosion of our land base, because without our land we will cease to be. I am goddam sick and tired of being put down on account of my sex and my race. I am sick and tired of the newspapers read by Indians running ads that say: “Strong, willing girl sought as live-in baby-sitter and all-around maid. Must be sober and accommodating. Call collect.” What’s the matter? Could they be running out of our black sisters to do the shitwork for them? And I am also sick and tired of ads reading: “Loving couple eager to adopt cute, healthy baby boy.” After five hundred years of being held in subjection, we are finally standing up on our hind legs. Together with my sisters from many tribes, I am a birth-giver, a rebirth-giver, fighting to ensure a life for unborn generations. I am a Sioux woman!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Moon Power
In one important aspect of their lives Indian women are very different from their white and black sisters. When a Lakota woman says: “I am on my moon,” it means that she has her period, and that has a special magic and mythical meaning for us. Being on our moon is surrounded by ancient but ever-strong beliefs, by legends and mythology, by customs going back to the dawn of time. It is the widespread belief, not only among us Sioux but among most Native American tribes, that a menstruating woman has a special, overwhelming power that nullifies the power of the men, even that of the medicine men. By her mere presence, a menstruating woman can render any ceremony or curing ritual ineffective. I heard a medicine man, taunted because one of his attempts to cure a sick person failed, say: “There was a woman on her moon around. That’s why. She did it on purpose.” I truly believe that at the time of our monthly cycle some men are afraid of us. Leonard Crow Dog, in his vision of Creation, of the Sioux Genesis, has described the woman’s part in it beautifully, poetically, and with words full of cosmic mystery:
“And then it was time for Tunkashila to create woman. There was no moon then. It was still the period of sacred newness, The sun again called all the planets and supernatural together, and when they had assembled, the sun, in a bright flash, plucked out one of his eves. He threw it on the wind of his vision into a certain place, and it became the moon, and it was female. And on this new orb, this eye-planet, he created woman. ‘You are a planet virgin, a moon maiden,’ he told her. ‘I have touched you, and made you out of my own shadow. I want you to walk on the earth.’ This happened in darkness at the time of a new moon.
“‘How will I walk over that land?’ the woman asked. So the sun created woman power and woman understanding. He used lightning to make a bridge from the moon to the earth, and the woman walked on the lightning. Her crossing took a long, long time.
“Now the maker of the universe had created man and woman and had given each a power of their own that has never been changed. Doing that, the sun had used up another million eons of creation time. He instructed the woman in her tasks, which she learned through her dreams, through her visions, through her special woman powers.
“The Great Spirit had created man and woman for each other, but not right away. They had to make contact slowly, get used to each other, understand each other for the survival of their caretaking. Tunkashila let blood roll into the woman. She walked on the lightning, but she also walked on a blood vein reaching from the moon to the earth. This vein was a cord, a birth cord that went into her body, and through it she is forever connected to the moon. And nine months of creation were given to her. And the Spirit told her: ‘You are the caretaker of the generations. You are the birth-giver. You will be the carrier of the universe.’”
The power of the moon is also invoked in the legend of We Ota Wichasha, the Blood Clot Boy. Again, here is how Crow Dog tells it:
“So how was the Indian born? He was born from the sunrise and from the woman. This woman at first was all alone on this earth after it had been created. This woman was beautiful and no man had touched her. Then she met a spirit, a power from the moon, the shadow of the generation. It worked upon her so that she began to bleed in woman nature for the first time. And she used yellow bark and rabbit skin to put between her legs to contain the flow. And after she had encountered this power and woman’s nature cycle had started within her, she went to sleep. When she got up the next morning she had an urge to make water. She took that yellow bark and rabbit skin from between her thighs and squatted and this little drop of moon blood fell to the earth. Mashtinchala, the rabbit, came upon that little clot of blood and started playing with it, kicking it into life. Rabbit did this with the help of Takuskanskan, the mysterious moving power that quickens the fruit in the womb and gives motion to all living things. And being kicked around and around, the little blob of blood took shape, forming a little gut. The rabbit played with it some more, and the blob began to grow tiny arms and legs. The rabbit nudged it some more, and suddenly it had eyes and a heart. In this way the blood clot began to move by itself and grew into We Ota Wichasha, the first man.” There are several versions of this story and there are also Blood Clot Boy legends among other tribes. They all stress the terrific power of women during their moon time.
Ishnati is the Lakota word for menstruation. It means “dwelling alone,” because, in the old days, a woman was isolated in a special tipi, or moon lodge, for four days, When a woman has her period she cannot be around the pipe because she would have a negative influence on the pipe. She would also affect all other ceremonial objects—the eagle wings and eagle-bone whistles, the gourd rattles, the peyote fan—in a bad way. If a menstruating woman were present during a healing ritual, the incense, the sage, the cedar, the sweet grass would lose their power to cure. They might even harm the sick person. It is believed that a woman on her moon would pollute the medicine. When the men are singing, such a woman
should not even be near the drum, because the drum is also sacred. These are the teachings of our traditional people and everyone acts in accordance with them. It is not that menstruation is looked upon as something unclean, as in some non-Indian cultures, but that a woman’s moon power is so great that it turns all other powers upside down, A woman should not even handle food, or cook for somebody, because that might cause stomach trouble, A man should not even talk to a woman who is on her monthly cycle for it could harm him, making him break out in boils or pimples. If a man should have intercourse with a menstruating woman, it could drive him mad. Moon blood can make flowers wilt. I heard an old man tell a white visitor: “Woman on her moon spits on a rattlesnake, rattlesnake dies.” The visitor asked: “Did you ever make an experiment to see whether it’s true, get hold of a menstruating woman and make her spit on a snake?” The old man answered: “That’s not necessary. Everybody already knows it from way back.” It is also believed that if a woman touches a weasel skin while menstruating, she will become sick and her legs will become disjointed, and if a man wears a weasel skin while making love to a woman on her moon, he will be struck by an illness that could kill him.
At a sun dance, I heard the announcer say: “The dancers can question any woman about whether she is on her moon, especially the young girls out there who don’t know any better. If they’re on their moon, they should leave the camp and not come back until they are finished with this.” One year we had a separate “moon camp” across the road, out of camp, because everyone had their medicine out in the open. If you are going to the sun dance, you’d better know about your cycle so you won’t interfere with the ritual. My friend Rocky, who has been sun dancing for years and years, noticed that this one woman was spotting, and the woman said: “No, it’s just that my panties are dirty.” But Rocky made the women security take her to the bathroom and be checked, and sure enough, she was having her period. So they made her leave the circle immediately. If the men hear about such things they get very upset. Menstruating women will make the dancers sick and weak, so that they fall down. It takes away their strength to endure the piercing. Even accidental contact with menstrual blood, according to some elders, can cause illness of the skin and genitals in men. It creates a tremendous negative energy. The first time I was at a sun dance, I had not planned to participate. I did not even bring my pipe, but one woman went on her moon and I took her place in the circle and danced for her.
Years ago, when the movement was in full swing, the girls were real strong, and there was a “moon watch” where we took the menstruating women to the moon lodge and we’d feed them and care for them but, at the same time, have security there to make sure they didn’t go anywhere. As the years went on, it started to be embarrassing. Women didn’t want to be asked all the time: “Are you by any chance menstruating?” And they did not want to be cooped up for four days and nights in the moon lodge. So we finally made a rule—if you’re on your moon, just stay away.
And it is the same with all other ceremonies. There can be no woman on her moon participating in a sweat lodge purification. One old man told me that when a menstruating woman once came into a yuwipi ceremony, all the spirits present there took such fright that they stormed out of the room like a whirlwind, breaking all the windowpanes in the process. And even in a cross-fire ceremony of the Native American Church, run the Christian way, no woman on her moon is allowed to participate or touch the sacred morning food. And it is the same with a woman after childbirth because as long as she is bleeding, even a little bit, it is like her being ishnati, and she has to stay isolated. In the old days, very strict traditional men even avoided their wives as long as they were nursing, abstaining from intercourse for a very considerable time. Well, that acted as a natural kind of birth control, of childbirth spacing.
Women even have to be protected from their own moon power. A woman can become a medicine woman, but only after menopause. If a medicine woman were still menstruating, her moon power would clash with her medicine power and they would cancel each other out. There would be no power at all, and therefore no healing. Women must be careful that Iktome, the evil Spider Man, or a coyote does not get hold of or eat her menstrual blood, because they would then have absolute evil power over her. She must also take care that no wapiya, no conjurer, obtains even the tiniest fleck of her moon blood, because he could mix it with other medicines and make a love charm out of it that would make the owner irresistible to the woman. All this is part of Lakol Wichohan, the Indian way.
I have inquired and read up on what menstruation beliefs are common among other tribes. Among our old enemies, the Crows, a woman on her cycle was not allowed to come near a wounded man or a warrior going on a raid. They no longer have moon lodges, but in the old days, menstruating women had to stay in willow brush shelters for four days, abstain from meat, and live on wild roots or plants. When their periods were over, they purified themselves in the sweat lodge, smoked themselves up with cedar incense, put on new clothes, and resumed their normal, everyday lives.
In some tribal mythologies the female supernaturals menstruate. In Navajo mythology, I was told, their great supernatural godlike being, Changing Woman, first menstruated in the last quarter of the moon. Right away they had the Blessingway Chant sung for her and made a blessing so that the Diné people would have many offspring. Since that time, all women have their monthly period because Changing Woman has passed this on to all womankind. She also instructed the Diné how to perform a girl’s puberty ceremony on the occasion of her first moontime.
In some southwestern creation myths, Earth Mother and Sky Father made love and in the fourfold Earthwomb created living things. Earth Mother then created the world waters and stirred them into life with drops of milk from her breasts. In the innermost of the four great wombs, the Womb of Generation, higher life emerged. It was still primitive, unknowing. Sun Father quickened the seed inside Earthfoam Mother and she gave birth to the Hero Twins. The godlike Twins then led all creatures up into the second great womb, named the Beneath the Navel Place. They ascended into it by means of a cornstalk or spiderweb, according to several legends. From this place people and animals ascended into the third womb, called Earth Vagina. And finally the Hero Twins led all living beings into the fourth and final womb, the Shining Sun Place. Now the people were formed as they are today, they had been given intellect, and the women began to menstruate. Creation was finished.
Among our old allies, the Cheyenne, a menstruating woman stayed in the moon lodge for four days. During this time she was not allowed to have any boiled meat, but only meat roasted over glowing coals. If the tribe was on the move, she could ride only a mare, not a stallion or gelding. If a man ate from a dish or drank from a bowl that had been used by a woman during her moontime, he was sure to be wounded or killed in his next fight. The same was true of a man who had slept with a woman during her period. Special care had to be taken not to have a man’s weapons contaminated by moon power. An arrow affected this way would not hit an enemy, and neither would a gun touched by the hand of a woman on her cycle. Shields have magical male powers that protect the warrior in battle. If a menstruating woman accidentally entered a tipi in which a shield was kept, it would at once lose the power to protect its owner. In order to empower it again, the shield owner was not even allowed to reenter his lodge until the contaminated shield had been purified with incense of sweet grass and juniper leaves during a solemn ceremony. Also the tipi had to be partially dismantled. Only when power had been restored to the shield was the tipi completely covered and pinned closed again. Among the Arapaho, a woman on her moon had to stay away from sick persons in order not to make them worse. The woman would have to stay isolated, have her own separate dish to eat from and her own cooking fire. Girls would not put on clothing worn by a pregnant woman so as not to catch her pregnancy.
Among the Winnebagos, a menstruating woman had to fast for four days. She was not allowed to lie down and sat wrapped in a blanket the whole time. If t
hey had to touch their bodies, they could not use their hands but had to use a stick. A menstruating woman was supposed to take the spirituality and power away from a holy man. The Winnebagos were, however, unique in believing that there is a power greater than a woman’s moon power, namely the power of the war bundle. If a menstruating woman should come near it, she would not stop her flow but keep on bleeding until she died. For that reason a woman stayed as far away as she could from a war bundle ceremony. If she did not she could only be cured by the bundle’s owner and keeper.
Among the Comanches, a women during her period had to stay in a tipi of her own, or else she would move in with her parents because the medicine of old people was “too weak” to be harmed. When something she had in her tipi was needed by someone, it was put outside because nobody was allowed to enter. She was not supposed to wash her face during her confinement because that would make it wrinkled, nor would she comb her hair for fear of becoming prematurely gray. After her menses she had to purify herself by bathing in a running stream, no matter how cold.
Among the Papago, no man dared come near the little shelters in which women stayed during their moontime. If a man stumbled upon one by accident he had to turn his face away. Here, too, the menstruating woman possessed a tremendous mysterious power, the power not only to menstruate, but to bear children, a power altogether different from the men’s power to hunt or to make war. Both powers had to be kept apart from each other so that they should not cancel each other out. A mere look at a man from a menstruating woman supposedly rook his power to hunt away from him forever. If such a woman stepped over a deer trail, the deer might go away. That could cause a famine. A woman often destroyed the dishes she ate from during her period. Even today, Papago women, as a rule, do not resent their days of isolation, saying that it is a welcome vacation from work.
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