Zitkala-Sa Sings Her People's Song

Long ago, on the wide open plains of South Dakota, a little girl listened to the wind. Her name was Zitkala-Sa. That means Red Bird in the Lakota language. She loved the sound of that name. It felt like her own heartbeat. Zitkala-Sa grew up in a warm home on the Yankton Sioux reservation. Her mother told her stories. The grass stretched far and golden all around them. The sky above was enormous and blue and full of promise. When Zitkala-Sa was little, she loved to run. She loved to sing. She loved to listen to the old songs her people had sung for hundreds of years. Those songs told who she was. They told where she came from. They told her she belonged. But the world was changing. And some people wanted Native children to forget their old lives. When Zitkala-Sa was eight years old, she was sent far away to a boarding school in Indiana. It was very far from home. It was very far from her mother. At the school, the teachers told her to stop speaking her language. They told her to stop singing her songs. They told her she must become someone different. Zitkala-Sa felt lost. She felt the way a small bird feels when the wind pushes it off course. But she did not forget who she was. Inside her heart, she kept every song. She kept every story. She kept every word her mother had ever spoken to her. Zitkala-Sa worked very hard at school. She learned to read and write in English. She learned to play the violin. And here is the beautiful thing she discovered. Music is music in every language. A song can carry the truth of who you are, no matter what words you use. She began to play her violin and think of home. She heard the wind in the strings. She heard the plains. She heard her mother's voice. Zitkala-Sa grew up to become a writer. She wrote stories and poems about her Lakota life. She wanted all of America to understand the beauty of her people's ways. She wrote down the old Lakota stories so children could always find them. She made sure those stories would never be lost. But Zitkala-Sa did not stop there. She traveled to Washington, D.C. She walked right up to the people who made the laws. She looked them in the eyes and she told them the truth. Native American people had lived on this land for thousands of years. And yet, for a very long time, they were not counted as citizens. They could not vote. Their voices were not heard. Zitkala-Sa said that was not right. She said it loudly and she said it clearly. She helped start the National Council of American Indians. She pushed and she wrote and she spoke until people listened. And in 1924, the United States passed the Indian Citizenship Act. At last, Native Americans were declared citizens of the country they had always called home. Zitkala-Sa smiled when she heard the news. She thought of her mother standing in the golden grass. She thought of the wide blue sky over the plains of South Dakota. She thought of every child who would grow up knowing their voice mattered. That night, before you close your eyes, think about the songs that belong to you. Think about the stories your family tells. Think about your name and what it means. Those things are yours forever. Nobody can take them away. And just like Zitkala-Sa, you can use your voice to make the world more fair. The wind is still blowing over those wide open plains tonight. And somewhere in it, you can almost hear a Red Bird singing. Goodnight, little one. Your voice matters. It always will.