This story was published by a Voices of Change fellow. Learn more about the fellowship here. I ask her again how to pronounce iciyapi. I repeat the syllables in a much slower and deliberate voice. I feel a deep sense of comfort knowing she has had this conversation before with dozens of young Lakota learners during her time as a Lakota language teacher in our community of Fort Yates on the Standing Rock Sioux reservation.
I recently reflected on this memory as I once again sat at that same wooden table. That time the windows were closed, as the harsh prairie winds of late fall blustered outside.
(mh=9psBD9GWMe6Uf0P2)8.jpg "Babes Rock Hill")
My relatives and I were gathered around the oval table, but my unci , my grandmother, was missing. She had started her journey just a few days before, and we were discussing her funeral arrangements. For many, grief has a way of forcing us to contemplate and reflect on cherished memories with the loved one who has left us.
The loss of my unci , a lifelong educator, my namesake, and one of the most important teachers in my life, and in the lives of many others, has prompted me to think even more deeply about how important it is for Indigenous Knowledge Systems to be not only included, but honored and affirmed in classrooms.
Indigenous Knowledge Systems is a phrase that originated in Indigenous studies. I could describe it to you using academic terms such as epistemology, ontology, and axiology. But ultimately, Indigenous Knowledge Systems are the ways that Indigenous peoples make sense of the world around them, and how they recognize, value, share and use knowledge in their daily lives. The phrase is intentionally plural to honor the diversity of Indigenous nations, of which there are over in the U.
