One day when I was back in South Dakota, I visited the Wounded Knee Memorial, which is located in the Pine Ridge Reservation in western South Dakota. There is a small hill overlooking the battlefield, and there is a small graveyard and a small church on top of the hill. It is said that the wind at Wounded Knee always blows and that if you listen carefully you can also hear the voices of the past …
I listened to the sounds of my flute for quite a while, and reflected on the things that had happened here …! The question rose up in me: What could or should I do ?! I’m not a politician or someone with a lot of influence … I’m not overly wealthy, so I can donate a few dollars here and there, but does it really make a difference? It wasn’t my generation that did this, so am I responsible for any retributions? Do they even want something from me, a privileged “white girl” from the “other side” of the fence? Really – what should / could I do?
As I pondered these questions, a voice whispered in me: “You can play your flute.” And I thought: “Yes, that’s right, I can play my flute. That is what I will do.”