The older generations are beginning to pass away. Eyes that bore witness to the most transformative period in the history of mankind are being laid to rest. For Native Americans, these are the witnesses of the civil rights movements, boarding school initiatives, and not so far removed from the relocation efforts. Saleya Piss Tubby was born in 1899. At the age of four she officially enrolled in the Dawes role to make herself in the eyes of the federal government a Native American. Her last name Piss Tubby being a combination of two Choctaw words Pissa meaning to see and Tubby meaning to kill or Ubby meaning to kill.
Her name literally meaning Saleya to see and to kill. Salaya passed away in 1988. She was my great-grandmother. My grandmother, Belvia Mintz, is pictured here in front of her boarding school, Chilocco Indian Academy. When I look at these two pictures, two things immediately come to my mind. Number one is that I would not be here without these wonderful women.
In a very real way, I am living their legacy. And number two is that while you and I can look at their faces and know that they existed, the world will never hear their voice again. I have a little daughter at home and a son on the way and I can't tell you what it would mean to me for them to be able to hear their stories not secondhand from me but from their lips and see their eyes light up when they talk about what it was like being native.
in a world where it's not always a good thing to be native. And while this story is special and unique to me, it is not unique to our tribe. Scott Wesley, who also works on this project, is pictured here at the age of one with his great-grandfather, Bennett Wesley, and his grandfather, Otis, who have both passed away. It is often said that every time an elder dies, a library burns with them.
It seems like every single week we hear about another tribal elder, a first speaker who has passed away. And with them, all the knowledge that life's experience had taught them. So why do we do this project?
Number one is so that we can look back. If you do not know your history, then you are doomed to repeat it. And as many of you know, when you look at the history of Native Americans here in America, it's not always a joyful thing, it's not always a positive thing. But there are happy moments, there are amazing moments that we can capture. I don't know how many of you know, but Choctaws were actually the original code talkers in World War I. And in 1917, when they were called to fight alongside the Allied forces, they were not even citizens of the United States.
Tobias Frazier was one of these code talkers. And we had the opportunity to sit down with his daughter, Ruth Frazier McMillan, and visit with her about him. And I want to play that clip for you.
The reason that I knew that Papa had been to war was because he had a wound. He was wounded and he had a big wound on his leg and I'd say, Papa does that hurt? Did that hurt?
He said, I hurt worse playing football. That's what he'd always say. tell me it didn't hurt like no you know didn't hurt and and I said well what did you think leaving down here it was such a small little place we it was way in the boondocks down there you know and he took a train all the way to the East Coast and he said it was just the wonder of big eyes and looking at things that he had never seen before that was the thing I didn't ask him if he got seasick because his daughter gets seasick and I just wondered if he did I wish I would ask him and he said that he talked about the French people when he got there how wonderful they received him they they were curious about his hair they thought thought it was going to be curly, and they wanted to touch his hair, and he had to take his cap off and let them see it straight.
Straight, straight. But he said the people were just wonderful. But France was being badly beaten at that time, and so they were really happy to have somebody coming to help. Sadly, Ruth passed away two years ago, and I would like to dedicate this project and this speech in her memory and in her honor. You know, as I look at that film and I remember sitting there with her that day, I can't tell you how glad I am to know that 500 years from now, our children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren will be able to hear her voice and see her eyes light up when she talks about this hero to our people, but to her, it was just her papa.
Second reason that we do this is so that we can look forward. If we fail to pass on this generational knowledge, we do a great injustice not only to our tribe, but we do a disservice to our children and grandchildren. I recently had an opportunity... to sit down with a young Choctaw in Oklahoma named Brenner Billy, who recently had a son of his own. His son's middle name is Ahenna, which in Choctaw means a guardian or someone who sits beside you, almost like a big brother.
And he's so appropriately named because the Billy family has long been a guardian of our culture. They have passed down our songs and our chants and our dances in the way that they were taught. And I asked Brenner, if you could pass on one piece of advice to your son that will live on forever, what would that advice be? And I want to play that for you. Never stop learning.
I mean, anything that we do as child dolls, we learn. We never stop learning. And to be successful or to be more knowledgeable, we have to keep learning, and whenever we learning from not just our family but from other families too because we have our sense of knowledge but we also can venture out and where some of the things can relate to us and I would say never to stop learning always remember always exercise your heritage.
And that's probably one of the most things that gives us our identity. It makes me Choctaw as much as looking Choctaw, I guess. Instead of having regalia on, I'm as much Choctaw as I am without it. And it's something that I can't take off.
It's something that's, you know, it's me. And I would give my son the advice, I say never stray away from your culture. It's always gonna be there. It's always gonna be what keeps you you and keeps you and your people chalked off. And that's something, nothing, no one can take from you.
It is often said that Native Americans are not linear thinkers, that we think in terms of circles. We take a more holistic approach to life and everything that we do. And the beauty of a circle is that while you can look behind you, and you can look in front of you, you can also look to your side, to the people next to you.
The Civil Rights Movement was a period in history when people stopped looking just inside their circle and started looking to other circles, other races. Martin Luther King Jr. was a champion for the African-American race during this time, but he was also a voice for Native Americans. And when you think of the civil rights movement, I know the first thing that comes to my mind is a struggle for race equality.
But truly, it is more than that. It's a fight for human rights. It's a fight for human dignity. And I think that's something that we can all get behind. I recently had an opportunity to sit down with Olin Williams, who during the time of Martin Luther King Jr. was a young Choctaw living on the reservation in Mississippi.
And he shared a story about hearing Martin Luther King Jr. for the first time. At the time when I was growing up there was a lot of racial tension especially in the south and as a little boy I didn't understand anything that was happening with my life. I just felt the effects from the social concerns at that time period.
And I didn't have a role model. I didn't have anybody that I could look up to that may have a doorway to my questions, something that I could look to. And then at At the time the technology wasn't as high as it is today, so the only access we had was the radio. And we heard this man speaking.
and he was speaking about injustice and that kind of hit me because that seemed to be what we were facing and we were not not prepared, we didn't know how to handle it. And so I listened to him and he made sense. And I felt like he was somebody that I could relate with, somebody that could help me understand even a little bit about the social struggle at that time.
So I had to make a decision. I understood that he was not a chokto and yet the principle thing that he was bringing was common to Choctaws too. And so I learned early that the struggle was not the outside but it was within man and that's what he was talking about.
And so with my childish understanding, I began to relate, I began to be educated by what he was saying. And so I think he made a big impact on my thinking process. Choc-Tols are not the only group of people with stories.
These are the stories that are so important to us as individuals and to us as a tribe. But you have stories. Your family has stories. You come from a tribe somewhere. You come from a people somewhere.
And as I look out through the audience, and I've had an opportunity to visit with many of you today, there are so many races represented here today. There are so many backgrounds represented here today. And so I want to encourage you to explore your story. Don't be wishing 20 years from now, 30 years from now, that you had sat down with your parents, with your great-grandparents, and could go back and look at their faces and hear their voices, and you can pass that on to your children.
All lives matter. All human lives matter, because all lives have stories. I want to urge you to explore your story and most importantly, to share that with the world around you.
Thank you.