We Are All Related

“Look inside and you will find that you were a person of the Earth once, too.” ~Autumn Dawn White Eyes 

“Mitakuye Oyasin” translates to “We are all related” or “All my relations” in the Lakota language. Autumn Dawn White Eyes won the Grand Prize in the Young Adult category of Lakota Children’s Enrichment’s VOICES OF THE LAND Writing Challenge with a spoken word entry entitled “Mitakuye Oyasin.” The panel of judges included Nobel Laureate Jody Williams, Spoken Word Superstar Jasmine Mans, Armenian American best-selling author and genocide expert Peter Balakian and Iranian American author Susanne Pari.

Autumn grew up on the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, where she attended the Red Cloud Indian School, kindergarten through grade 12. Autumn is Oglala Lakota through her paternal side, and Turtle Mountain Band of Anishinabe through her maternal side. Autumn graduated in 2014 from Dartmouth College in NH with a double major in Native American Studies and English.

Autumn said of the prize, “I am honored to write for Lakota Children’s Enrichment… this contest gives [Lakota youth] an opportunity to speak from our experiences and to share our artwork with a larger audience. ”

LCE President Maggie Dunne said “Autumn’s spoke word entry was the unanimous winner in the Young Adult category. Her thoughtful and moving piece demonstrates that Autumn is both a poet and an activist, and we look forward to working with her in the future.”

Please enjoy, share and celebrate Autumn’s poem and Spoken Word video performance about the importance of the land, her respect for Uni Maka (Grandmother Earth), and her reflections on the use of the land by those who do not appear to understand or appreciate its significance.

Mitakuye Oyasin


On August 20th 2013, I left the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation for New York City.

Flew into a city where lights on towers looked brighter than the sun.

I went through a week of disillusionment.

I saw people walk by one another that they will never know, hundreds of people to turn the other cheek, and I started wondering if I was ever hurt,

would they come to me? Would they come to me?

I saw gardens between buildings, with plants, desperately trying to find a way to the sun between the dark buildings

wondering what they would feel if they had a home like mine.


My home

My home is all the air in the sky, its sunsets melt my heart into a serenity of sanctuary.

I could write a thousand poems of its beauty

I could tell you about my cousins playing basketball next to Sacred Heart Church,

the thunder that booms against the windows while it’s raining,

And sing to you the songs of my ancestors that

I once sang while picking sage in the prairie, taking only enough of what we needed,

and said a prayer to thank it for its sacrifice.

The inipi is one of my favorite places,

we return to mother’s womb, like retreating to our beds when we are feeling unsafe.

The heat rolling off my back doesn’t feel painful,

and sweat rolling off my skin does not burn as it should.

I pray for tomorrow’s day, my mother’s health, and the future of the children

My mother holds my hand next to me, as Unci Maka teaches me how to breathe again,

And we sing.


In the Black Hills of South Dakota, Mato Tipila stands before us.

Watching over the land the people, above the sky,

letting us know she is the closest to the creator.

When I was a senior in high school, I prayed at this sacred site.

Watched rock climbers destroy her sacredness as we tried to pray.

I never thought I could feel sorry for a white person,

never thought that I could ask an unknowing question,

“What tribe are you?”

If you look far enough you could remember,

Look inside and you will find that you were a person of the Earth once too.

I watched them climb, wrapping their legs and arms against Mother Nature,

Trying to feel the spirit that has held my hand in my darkest and lightest nights,

I realized they were searching for our Grandmother, for family,

and for the Earth they will return to.


Unci Maka,

Grandmother Earth

Our Earth is in crisis.

She is crying for our sympathy, feeling us strip away her nutrients.

Cutting down her mountains for mining, drilling for natural gas, and polluting the water,

‘til her resources run clean.

Like humans she cannot function without her organs.

She isn’t happy with us,

OUR family isn’t happy with us.

And like a mother who isn’t happy with us, I’ll try to make her proud.

Mitakuye Oyasin

We are all related.

In Spoken Word, by Autumn Dawn White Eyes


(c) 2014, Lakota Children’s Enrichment, All rights reserved. This content originally was published at http://lakotachildren.org/2014/04/voices-of-the-land-young-adult-grand-prize-winner/