Lakota Tradition, Death and the Hair Braid, by Anonymous

From MemoryArchive

Who: Anonymous
What: My Grandmother
When: 
Where: Pine Ridge Reservation, South Dakota

My mother was born and raised on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. She was 16 when she met my father (who was white) and moved off the reservation.

As a child I spent many summer vacation on the reservation with my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. It was so much fun being with my relatives but I didn't always understand what they were saying. My grandmother spoke half English and half Lakota but I always knew what she was saying by the look on her face and in her eyes. Grandma was a quiet, gentle women with stories to share and who loved to play solitare. She would try to act tough, but wasn't. When I was young and into my teens, she would sometimes come for a visit (which could last from one to three months) and during those visits she taught me how to play two-handed solitare. We would sit for hours, not saying much but being together. She had her corner space at the kitchen table, at which she would sit for hours playing solitare and baking bread from scratch. Coming home from school and walking in the door to the smell of hot freshly baked rolls, all shiny from the butter melting and dripping off the sides was a treat. A pan would be eaten between myself and three brothers in a matter of minutes. Grandma would be telling us in her Lakota tongue to slow down but she always had a couple more pans in reserve.

As my grandma got older, she made fewer trips to stay with us and besides, she hated to leave my grandpa for too long as he was getting older too. My grandparents relationship was a mystery to me. They would sit for hours in the morning sharing a pot of coffee, playing cards and talking. Unless you knew the Lakota language, you had no idea of what they were saying to one another except by their tone. I knew they discussed many things but they would smile and laugh a little too, so I knew they were enjoying themselves.

As I think back, I know my mother understood the language but because she had moved off the reservation so many years before, she could no longer speak it. She did not teach my three brothers or myself any of the Lakota language. I always felt sort of strange visiting because most of my cousins could understand Lakota fairly well and speak a little. In an article I just read by Price (2003) called The Sioux Today, Amelia Blackbear, principal of Little Wound Middle School says "that attributes about Sioux culture changed in the 1960's" and today kids are not being taught the language and it is not being spoken in the home. I wish I had been taught to speak the language, alas, it too has died in my family.

I remember grandma had very long hair and each morning she would take her long hair and braid it into a long "rope" and wind it into a bun and pin to the back of her head. Then she would take her two hair combs and put one on each side of her head. Other than in the morning, you would never see her with her hair down.

One day when I was 16 my mother received that dreaded call that my grandfather had died. My first thoughts were for my grandma and how lonely she was going to be. All alone in a crowd without my grandpa at her side. My mother, cousin and I flew up to the reservation for the funeral. The morning after we arrived, many relatives were sitting around my grandma's small house when my grandma stood up, said something in Lakota and my oldest aunt began to cry and sob. She kept saying "no mama, no". I looked at my mother, who was not an easy crier, and she had tears streaming down her face. I knew something horrible was going to happen as my grandma walked into her bedroom and shut the door. My aunts and cousins were crying and talking in Lakota and I didn't know if grandma was going to kill herself or never come out of the bedroom again. I was scared and grabbed my mother's hand. One of grandma's friends, an old Indian woman, went into grandma's bedroom and closed the door. We waited and I had the feeling I was the only one who didn't know what was happening. About a half hour later, my grandma came out of the bedroom. I was so relieved that she was still alive that I at first did not notice the change in her. The crying was continuing but I was happy to see her. Then as she went past me I noticed what everybody else already knew; my grandma had cut off her braid. Her combs were still in place, but the bottom of her hair was ragged and uneven. I didn't understand why she would do such a thing. She sat down at the kitchen table in her usual spot and acted as if she had never moved.

I found out later that the braid went into my grandfather's casket. What a moving and loving old Lakota tradition I had witnessed that day and I shall never forget it. Grandma died almost a year to the day. The Doctors said there was no reason really, but I knew it was of a broken heart.

Price, S. (2003, March 28). The Sioux Today. Junior Scholastic, 105(15), 18. Retrieved July 18, 2007, from Middle Search Plus database.