Relatives, kin, and relations,

We find ourselves in a season of uncertainty, standing at the edges of a shifting landscape. The winds of change carry whispers of disruption—executive orders passed in the night, policies reshaped without consultation, and a tightening grip on the spaces where our voices have long fought to be heard. Once again, we are reminded that the ground beneath us is not as settled as we hoped, and that the work of holding sovereignty, dignity, and belonging is never done.

It is no accident that we are here together. We, the descendants of those who have always belonged to this land, know what it is to endure, to adapt, and to move forward with purpose. In times like these, our teachings become even more vital. We do not scatter like leaves in the wind; we root deeper. We do not disappear into the margins; we rise, we remember, and we gather.

There will be those who try to erase our presence, who question our right to be here, who reduce us to checkboxes in an ever-changing DEI equation. But we are not a checkbox, and we are not here by permission—we are here by birthright. Our ancestors did not endure centuries of removal, surveillance, and borderlines so that we might ask to belong. We are already home.

Let us anchor ourselves in what has always been true:
We are not alone. Our kinship extends beyond policy and politics; it is woven into the land, the waters, the languages we carry.
We are sovereign, not because a government recognizes it, but because it is an unbroken truth that predates every system built on our erasure.
We are connected. Our struggles are not just ours; they are bound to all those who seek justice, dignity, and the right to exist without fear.

Now is the time to remember who we are. To strengthen our relations, to protect each other, to listen deeply and move with intention. To reclaim our stories, to continue speaking our languages, to hold our ceremonies close. To stand firm in the face of those who would question our presence.

We were made for this time. We have always known how to withstand the storm. And like the seeds buried deep in winter’s cold, we will rise again—stronger, wiser, and carrying forward the medicine of our people.