tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59221962998716888412024-03-13T13:42:26.021-07:00If Thou Art Merry, If Thou art SorrowfulIf thou art merry, praise the Lord with singing, with music, with dancing, and with a prayer of praise and thanksgiving.
If thou art sorrowful, call on the Lord thy God with supplication, that your souls may be joyful.
D&C 136:28-29Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.comBlogger138125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-82077125083493537872021-03-22T13:51:00.004-07:002021-03-22T14:00:31.191-07:00Why is the Organ Still Used in Church?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5VlrvzxCkdrbnijaZwoiO7ZXK2yc1TsXfydols835ENHSqqgFaZfZs2tjqTY2i01YKjkPsL1zF1V97nlGAS_aum5_fYYeT6bGdstmbU3XL-bjKJ6nHRnSZAA4ZqX8cDlxa-C7T6q6Bc/s2048/Salt%252BLake%252BTabernacle%252BOrgan.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_5VlrvzxCkdrbnijaZwoiO7ZXK2yc1TsXfydols835ENHSqqgFaZfZs2tjqTY2i01YKjkPsL1zF1V97nlGAS_aum5_fYYeT6bGdstmbU3XL-bjKJ6nHRnSZAA4ZqX8cDlxa-C7T6q6Bc/s320/Salt%252BLake%252BTabernacle%252BOrgan.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Monday mornings I listen to a podcast entitled, Sunday on Monday. It's a great resource put out by LDS Living (an arm of Deseret Books). This podcast hosts a small discussion group on the Come Follow Me Curriculum put out by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Last year the podcast covered the Book of Mormon. This year the podcast is discussing the Doctrine and Covenants. LDS Living produces some of my favorite podcasts. The Sunday on Monday podcast has not only helped me in my personal study of the scriptures, it has also helped me to become a better teacher by asking better questions.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://www.ldsliving.com/pages/sundayonmonday" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9b8Rc__gZOQk4XTn4bBhgp1utgmPj8dMnBDxBvONuYwqd4SoMJ0sm6qJcx_5G5QPSHdkDh5fgWhfsrvGjB6xpPgNMrxPamHjK3waDUc_vYL3KpZ_WYF1rX2DB1jE1H8y76-gsWcq6IhY/s320/som-header2.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><br /></div><p>One of the questions in the podcast this week was, "have you ever been given a calling that you thought, or even said out loud, 'You want me to do what? Come again?'"</p><p>The discussion group participants shared their experiences and then the host shared hers. Her current calling is the one that is causing her to question. She is called to be the ward organist. But she isn't an organist, she is a pianist. </p><p>One of the discussion group participants asked, "I want to know how the organ even got messed up in the whole thing. Like, why do we still have an organ? Anyone?"</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL-bZ3f9feqXtHqXVmFjb2_i-XCEucQ55B1DYchkSh3-zz9ISHWKgYeM-vcukiS1WwLagU1fI0zQl9WdbDBEFxDZrUtfSBiuWBlqcIpOUtrLvIj0ybYxGA6AyKQbrnXSCJ0V_3UqKo7Dc/s640/conferenceorgan.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="256" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL-bZ3f9feqXtHqXVmFjb2_i-XCEucQ55B1DYchkSh3-zz9ISHWKgYeM-vcukiS1WwLagU1fI0zQl9WdbDBEFxDZrUtfSBiuWBlqcIpOUtrLvIj0ybYxGA6AyKQbrnXSCJ0V_3UqKo7Dc/s320/conferenceorgan.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div>Maybe the question is facetious and maybe the banter is just for fun, but I really want to answer this question. This isn't the first time I've heard it. And much like the Doctrine and Covenants does, I want to answer this question from both a temporal and spiritual angle, and I want to answer even more than this question asks. <p></p><p>If you hang on 'til the end of the post, I will link to some resources for pianist who've been recruited to play the organ. If you are one of these, let me tell you as a reformed pianist myself, the calling to be ward organist is the best. It is one of the few callings where if you apply yourself and attempt to magnify your calling, the Lord will bless you with a talent and an increased capacity to learn.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rhCwb3t8hhr7ZSiOxHFz4us_pq7twSnvYS1FsG3Uv80RfwpdkBRTU_uqNfF6mW0Pa9IJzBF8gtueNWVDYKLG5MjxK-hC73Hiujnh6E99nj7GVyDdc-fgptLb81oG8Y-hJV-NoWSdfO0/s2048/Orgel_im_St._Stephansdom-Passau-2_0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2rhCwb3t8hhr7ZSiOxHFz4us_pq7twSnvYS1FsG3Uv80RfwpdkBRTU_uqNfF6mW0Pa9IJzBF8gtueNWVDYKLG5MjxK-hC73Hiujnh6E99nj7GVyDdc-fgptLb81oG8Y-hJV-NoWSdfO0/s320/Orgel_im_St._Stephansdom-Passau-2_0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>Physical Reasoning</b></p><p>Instruments are about space. Their sound is designed to fill their designated space. Chapels are large. If the overflow is open, they are even larger. Without a mic, the mellow sound waves reverberating off a piano soundboard won't fill this space. A piano is barely vibrant enough to support a ward choir, let alone a 300 to 400 person congregation. The congregation needs the support of an organ. The organ is there to lift and inspire the congregation. </p><p>Interesting side note, in Bach's day, the organist played a hymn prelude (in a beautiful arrangement) to give the congregations its pitch and then the congregation sang the hymn a capella. A capella in musical terms is understood as "singing without musical accompaniment." It comes from the Italian meaning, "in the chapel style." Some Christian religions continue to frown on the use of any musical instruments in worship as the only God given instrument is the voice. </p><p>Others see the organ as a wind instrument that can come closer to imitating the human voice than any other instrument. The use of the organ in church services began to creep in around 900 AD, by the 1500s, around the time of Martin Luther and Bach, organs were becoming an integral part of Cathedrals and church services</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPvHV44NSNnVE7df_roj_SkMnlgVhlkiVOdl6q4U9BU_AapwM9DhWOBDrQZ994GY_T9Kms-lgnWg3GYGkvyIaWFLvimA3iBpypAAy92mzF44IAQvgQuU3zAqQrhCsOtIHUcSyIE41F14/s318/jacobandsherem.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="159" data-original-width="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggPvHV44NSNnVE7df_roj_SkMnlgVhlkiVOdl6q4U9BU_AapwM9DhWOBDrQZ994GY_T9Kms-lgnWg3GYGkvyIaWFLvimA3iBpypAAy92mzF44IAQvgQuU3zAqQrhCsOtIHUcSyIE41F14/s0/jacobandsherem.jpeg" /></a></div><p><b>Spiritual Reasoning</b></p><p>Several years ago, the ward organ I play broke. It took several weeks to get it repaired. In the mean time, I played the piano. It was a fun a stress free time. Plus I had plenty of old piano prelude that the congregation had never heard me play. When the organ was finally fixed, a councilor in the bishopric expressed his disappointment that I had moved back to the organ. I told him, "the piano is nice, but the organ puts the 'fear of God' into you." I tend to answer in as few words as possible when I'm playing. I'd like to explain this idea better than this.</p><p>Consider Jacob in the Book of Mormon in Jacob 7:5 when Sherem tries to shake Jacob's faith, "And he had hope to shake me from the faith, notwithstanding the many revelations and the many things which I had seen concerning these things; for I truly had seen angels, and they had ministered unto me. And also, I had heard the voice of the Lord speaking unto me in very word, from time to time; wherefore, I could not be shaken." That is the boldness of the organ.</p><p>When Alma the younger speaks about his father and the people who were baptized in the Waters of Mormon and who had suffered captivity for 25 years at the hands of their enemies, he describes them saying, "And again I ask, were the bands of death broken, and the chains of hell which encircled them about, were they loosed? I say unto you, Yea, they were loosed, and their souls did expand, and they did sing redeeming love. And I say unto you that they are saved." (Alma 5:9) This is the boldness of the organ</p><p>The piano, while beautiful in tone, can allow players to "fudge and slur," as Elizabeth Bennet puts it in the 1995 A&E version of Pride and Prejudice. The organ is not so forgiving. Mistakes are loud and out there for everyone to hear.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwRrLDOnfX19xsjZYaaCddkPFJ9Et-243E-4CCaPOA7uMBriWj1DrxQyU20-SgWWVQ2wxw4RpiW9BlYAEEU6ndEyeo9bb9lWf0gWfLC9ttvgMuzP0kfDPH4FeTCHg2iRI-hz1CS8e214/s1200/crying.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHwRrLDOnfX19xsjZYaaCddkPFJ9Et-243E-4CCaPOA7uMBriWj1DrxQyU20-SgWWVQ2wxw4RpiW9BlYAEEU6ndEyeo9bb9lWf0gWfLC9ttvgMuzP0kfDPH4FeTCHg2iRI-hz1CS8e214/s320/crying.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>Mental Reasoning</b></p><p>There are going to be mistakes. This isn't just about the organ. This is a life lesson. What do we do when we make mistakes. 1. Repent 2. Forgive Ourselves 3. Try Again 4. Strive to avoid those mistakes in the future. </p><p>In life, mistakes, forgiveness, and striving can be a somewhat lengthy and stretched-out process. On the organ this is a fast cycling process and it is great practice for the demoralizing failures that happen away from the organ bench.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWD31LhZt9Gc5af44gUDjEztLwdFrUrtjdkgD9k0tnjL6lRFrkQc1r91IW-6W2b0HQQ4D12ujBCl3IIa5cSxYpst9bP3fHKj0kmZ7Q4JkaOqOIe45XUiHci6xLyaocQtBQtOhVKSOJDfc/s1200/Organists.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="1200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWD31LhZt9Gc5af44gUDjEztLwdFrUrtjdkgD9k0tnjL6lRFrkQc1r91IW-6W2b0HQQ4D12ujBCl3IIa5cSxYpst9bP3fHKj0kmZ7Q4JkaOqOIe45XUiHci6xLyaocQtBQtOhVKSOJDfc/s320/Organists.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><p><b>Social Reasoning</b></p><p>Serving others creates bonds of love. Before playing the organ, I had no idea it was possible to love a congregation. One day during an organ lesson, my organ teacher asked me how many minutes of sight reading I had completed during the week. I asked her if playing the organ for sacrament meeting counted? We laughed and laughed. And then she said to me, "This week as I played, I thought, 'my congregation deserves better'." I couldn't get her thought out of my head because I knew my congregation deserved better as well. Since that time I have reserved time to practice the hymns prior to Sunday and to put thought and preparation into what prelude I play.</p><p>I know what my Bishop's favorite songs are and on his weeks to conduct, I can sneak one or two in. When the young women I taught started to leave for missions, I snuck their favorite hymns into the prelude. I didn't ask them. I had worked with them. I knew what they liked. The ward chorister chooses hymns around the stake theme of the month. I support her choices with prelude. </p><p>I've heard that some temples use recorded music for prelude rather than live organists for various reasons. I know that some wards are using Tabernacle Choir recordings for Sacrament Meeting where singing has been discouraged due to the current pandemic. I know some wards have player organs where the "organist" simply selects the hymn from the console screen and presses play. Will the ward organist continue to be a thing in the future? I hope so. </p><p>I like to quote John Milton's Sonnett 19, "When I Consider How My Light is Spent" whenever I think about service. “God doth not need either man’s work or his own gifts; who best bear his mild yoke, they serve him best." God does not need our gifts our our talents. We need God. We need the opportunity to serve and to try hard things. </p><p>Playing the organ is a hard thing. But when the organ inspires a congregation to sing redeeming love, when the organ helps the congregation to hear and internalize the words of the sacrament hymn, when the organ instills reverence before the meeting begins, it can be a tool for the organist to bear testimony that they will not be shaken.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Resources for New Organists</b></p><p>BYU has a free 12 lesson course for new organists. Google it or <a href="https://organ.byu.edu/the-new-ward-organist/#:~:text=This%20free%20course%20of%20twelve,and%20skip%20lessons%206%2D9.">link here.</a></p><p>Tips for new organists on ChurchofJesusChrist.org. <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2002/09/random-sampler/tips-for-beginning-organists?lang=eng" target="_blank">Link here</a></p><p>Simplified Hymnal at ChurchofJesusChrist.org. <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/music/library?lang=eng">Link here</a></p><p>Manuals (keyboard) only hymnal at ChurchofJesusChrist.org <a href="https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/bc/content/shared/english/pdf/callings/music/manualonly-100602.pdf?lang=eng">Link here</a></p><p>Prelude for the Bass Coupler Organists at JackmanMusic.com. <a href="https://jackmanmusic.com/products/50-hymn-preludes-for-the-bass-coupler-organist-vol-1" target="_blank">Link here</a></p>Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-64559001021825858872020-09-12T22:15:00.001-07:002020-09-13T08:24:33.454-07:00Welcome Home Bristol Baby<p> In January, I will be celebrating 10 years of posting content on this blog. Some years have been more productive than others. I think there were years that I posted almost weekly. Other years, you could count the number of posts on one hand. </p><p>Ten years ago, my children were young, and they entertained me endlessly with their music. Now they are all grown, I don't have as many opportunities to record them playing. A couple of them jammed together tonight, and I should have played with them. They asked me to, but I worry that I slow them down. I worry that when they play with me, we play songs I know - and those aren't the songs they know and love. But as a listened to them - I realized, they weren't just playing their songs. They were still playing the songs I raised them on.</p><p>I've been spending a lot of time playing on my own. My favorite instrument is the organ. It is like having an entire symphonic orchestra at your fingertips. I've written a bit regarding the struggles I've had maintaining a full organ in the home. In my last blog, I wrote that I finished the revamp of my big organ and everything was good to go. The problem is, I think I love fixing organs as much as I love playing them. I stumbled across a listing for an antique pump organ on ebay. That got me thinking, and I started to look at other listings. Joseph told me he had a three day weekend and would be willing to drive anywhere to pick me up an old reed organ. I tried to resist, but the Saturday before Labor Day, I had an urge that I REALLY wanted a pump organ and this was the only opportunity I'd ever get. By Sunday, I had a Victorian Style pump organ sitting in my kitchen. #thankyoujoseph #huntergatherer</p><p>I cannot believe my dumb luck -- or Gods tender mercies. This organ is in incredible shape. A couple of stops were not working. Yesterday, the girls and I opened the back of the organ and were able to problem solve and fix them all. I love my electronic instrument, but there is something about playing a live wind instrument. The mechanics of it are amazing!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1fP3M7T13zks3T3PNb8ndDHRK2tRaNZvojzaObYFGi41F3gDJ7AGijBJV3WfUdj29ANDYrrNffautMkTHlaoP47kdK_v5s7AtU8PzXUozw_T_JdyHp5vmN4m1baHw6FVnblZhZQF0ao/s2048/IMG_4191.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ1fP3M7T13zks3T3PNb8ndDHRK2tRaNZvojzaObYFGi41F3gDJ7AGijBJV3WfUdj29ANDYrrNffautMkTHlaoP47kdK_v5s7AtU8PzXUozw_T_JdyHp5vmN4m1baHw6FVnblZhZQF0ao/s320/IMG_4191.HEIC" /></a></div><div><br /></div><br /><p>Pump organs were popular in the United States from approximately 1850 to 1910. The manufacturer of this organ, Milwaukee Netzow, stopped making organs at the turn of the century as pianos had become more popular. I have a lot of work to do to learn how to get this organ to sing. The video below is me trying a non-legato touch. That is the touch I use for pipe organs, but as this organ has a quick note decay, I think I will start playing legato pieces on it. (Mobile Link: <a href="https://youtu.be/e_XJTvcGOBE">https://youtu.be/e_XJTvcGOBE</a>)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/e_XJTvcGOBE" width="320" youtube-src-id="e_XJTvcGOBE"></iframe></div><div><br /></div>As I've mentioned before, Bobo's never met an instrument she doesn't want to play. The video below illustrates how the way into a mother's heart is to play the organ for her :) (Mobile link: <a href="https://youtu.be/HmcKdmwrgYo">https://youtu.be/HmcKdmwrgYo</a>)<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/HmcKdmwrgYo" width="320" youtube-src-id="HmcKdmwrgYo"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One thing both Bobo and I learned, is playing a pump organ can leave a person breathless. More respect to my mother. She learned to play keyboards on the pump organ in her childhood home. She is an amazing pianist and organist! I learned the magic of mornings from her. She would get up and practice before me, and I started practicing at 5 am! Love you mom - you are welcome to come over and play anytime. And Annette - if you read this far, come over and play both my organs :)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xUCHHUcvTTGBj8c7WnDUjhULIOJoL1DNLHPAl_uk793Jcvi9BeVBycINxSpRUO7Gpzqx-OxOii-8XJRiVKJvkgbnptpy_-weqXwbVUj1r2YRM7YUwe4v6GPGHZMJqwekcpXSG1QcAm8/s2048/IMG_4179+2.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xUCHHUcvTTGBj8c7WnDUjhULIOJoL1DNLHPAl_uk793Jcvi9BeVBycINxSpRUO7Gpzqx-OxOii-8XJRiVKJvkgbnptpy_-weqXwbVUj1r2YRM7YUwe4v6GPGHZMJqwekcpXSG1QcAm8/s320/IMG_4179+2.HEIC" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Welcome to your new home Bristol Baby!<br /><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-10908283256470238492020-08-30T14:48:00.002-07:002020-08-31T14:31:22.439-07:00I'm Finally Satisfied (aka The Battle is Over for Now)<div class="separator"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 13.5pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Pre-pandemic, my MacMini
updated to iOS Catalina. Apparently, Hauptwerks, the software that powers my
organ wasn't supported for the new OS. I tried to upgrade from Hauptwerks 4 to
Hauptwerks 5, but found out I would have to buy a new "perpetual"
license as my old "perpetual" licensed dongle had lost its
perpetuity. I decided not to upgrade because I am ever cheap. I grabbed the old
PC tower that used to run my organ software and voila, I was up and running
again.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Having a full size
practice organ in the home is not as standard as I once believed. I grew up in
a home with two pianos and a Hammond organ. That was what "normal"
was to me. Upstairs, my mother taught piano lessons on a Baldwin Spinet, but
downstairs, I practiced on a Hammond with accompanying tone cabinet
(rotating leslie speaker) and an Steinway upright grand with ivory keys. I had
no idea how spoiled I was. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzM6UPQbczhoyURbELrg4RqGeGa1EaDvHwTEEdaRygpXov7q7hYA2HgXq_CZAnwkfYB5A7yPSxyZAp_V7yWTBZwHhyphenhyphen1Z8jTNHqsHRe3zzkZUQZ-CuBEt247uCwmylmoatehyphenhyphen7Mu8FjwI/s480/hammond+c-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzM6UPQbczhoyURbELrg4RqGeGa1EaDvHwTEEdaRygpXov7q7hYA2HgXq_CZAnwkfYB5A7yPSxyZAp_V7yWTBZwHhyphenhyphen1Z8jTNHqsHRe3zzkZUQZ-CuBEt247uCwmylmoatehyphenhyphen7Mu8FjwI/s0/hammond+c-3.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> Last week, as I
was telling my mother I had put upwards of $4,000 into my organ upgrade, she
told me that in 1967 she purchased the Hammond plus the Steinway for $1999.
In 1967, that was the price of a car.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Early in my married
adult life I've mustered along with several "fun organs". The small
organ pictured here is an old Whirlitzer I owned. These were my desperation
organs. I was able to use them to practice hymns, but I had to transcribe as I
played to keep the pedals within the single octave available on the short
pedalboard. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPP1hJk0dWjSnjgMIpfNp4Lu4FBoQBf2CelnoYBRF79TgILL9GE9gOrsFS6f6HXSWxBM9vuREqdHkPpY0SPGdOAMH9r9iJxihuGwCY6y5-11XpYu9vqfp8FaQRaTQd_wRP6W6l0QrAT7A/s320/fun+organ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="237" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPP1hJk0dWjSnjgMIpfNp4Lu4FBoQBf2CelnoYBRF79TgILL9GE9gOrsFS6f6HXSWxBM9vuREqdHkPpY0SPGdOAMH9r9iJxihuGwCY6y5-11XpYu9vqfp8FaQRaTQd_wRP6W6l0QrAT7A/s0/fun+organ.jpg" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">My husband hated having
an organ in the home (to be fair I also had the upright grand and a digital
keyboard). He even convinced me to let him take a small organ to the dump once
when we were "rearranging the furniture". It broke my heart to see it
thrown in a bin. Once I was divorced I realized "my house, my rules"
and I vowed to make room for a full-size organ. The problem then wasn't space,
but money.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfyPPe73rE2nadXKR3wJUsQNIFTAPMY4vUuItlV8rhMU2j0aHROi5GGCoq32Ax2HtH8IjT6eSNLISNYAPMGOuJl1YF7t92JAsrU5lLGOKOk2eBMDXHd7Y7SXwesiae-qlVQUPJPyA8jg/s320/unknown+organ.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfyPPe73rE2nadXKR3wJUsQNIFTAPMY4vUuItlV8rhMU2j0aHROi5GGCoq32Ax2HtH8IjT6eSNLISNYAPMGOuJl1YF7t92JAsrU5lLGOKOk2eBMDXHd7Y7SXwesiae-qlVQUPJPyA8jg/s0/unknown+organ.JPG" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">My search for a practice
organ led me to an older woman who, along with her husband, was preparing to go
on a full-time mission. She had to let go of her organ and I was able to buy it
for $150. I got it for Christmas in 2011.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">With a full size organ
in my home, I was able to enroll in organ lessons at the local university. It
was through organ lessons that I learned about the midi driven Hauptwerk
Software. I was super intrigued. My new-old organ (which was built in the 70's)
had electronic components that were past their prime. Stops and notes gave up
the ghost regularly. As much as I researched, I could not find parts or
professionals to repair the organ. Certain stops and keys just wouldn't work. The
organ had been manufactured before midi technology. But (due to my IT
background) I figured, if I could find an organ capable of running Hauptwerk,
it would, in the end, be just another computer I could maintain and repair. I
began looking for a computer with midi capabilities.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZvAETdyuwMkl4SJ3fS56BV3GLXQdklE_fMkXv64bppxS6P-5XEBYq7Ldl0bPQNS3I8BRWR1mCc4j5AreyZp-ABTquTn3zey36U55rnjDQ3dR5GUEXg6O6RwXa9mx6nOFCAnLqcPrtso/s320/Hauptwerk+organ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ZvAETdyuwMkl4SJ3fS56BV3GLXQdklE_fMkXv64bppxS6P-5XEBYq7Ldl0bPQNS3I8BRWR1mCc4j5AreyZp-ABTquTn3zey36U55rnjDQ3dR5GUEXg6O6RwXa9mx6nOFCAnLqcPrtso/s0/Hauptwerk+organ.jpg" /></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In July of 2012, I had a
bit of money and a bit of an opportunity. Someone had listed a Hauptwerks Organ
on ebay for $500. I rented a small U-Haul and my teenage boys drove six hours
to a rural town in Northern California on sketchy backroads, got trained on how
to set up the organ, drove it home and set it up for me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This organ was exactly
what I was looking for. I downloaded all of the free Hauptwerk sample sets I
could that would run on the free version of Hauptwerk, and I soon had German,
French, English, Modern, Romantic, and Baroque virtual organs. Not only had the
seller set up the manuals as midi inputs, he also had set up mechanical
keypistons and stops as midi controllers. He had Frankensteined parts from at
least two old organs. Based on wood coloration, the bench and keyboards came
from one organ, and the console and pedalboard from another. My organ lessons
took on new hope. I was able to practice three hours a day while being happy
with the sound and touch of the organ.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjjRM6A3AsqIccpjuMVknL60vJdtiPzxzC6CIhvF-AqU8YaMhThqVB2b254XhKqLXAnnTm8Jfk4GL711iU6JLUb3s4DMqLgZRW1bGs6icBksmFekIkabRjd8WPoxaZt_7KtPBH5QX9rQ/s1125/manual2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjjRM6A3AsqIccpjuMVknL60vJdtiPzxzC6CIhvF-AqU8YaMhThqVB2b254XhKqLXAnnTm8Jfk4GL711iU6JLUb3s4DMqLgZRW1bGs6icBksmFekIkabRjd8WPoxaZt_7KtPBH5QX9rQ/s640/manual2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwd-_9sFyrEBsVtYbkYpZGBonK8bybreGK-5XwpnaHj13juS-7yy5s0Gjh-mMVhjT2PwE8mYaT-DOoxZl5gchP68Ds_yLuhLx7x6a1VIiEWFhYNiSsKMbg8axf1DRAwe1zG_7MSm1N_o/s1500/manual1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAwd-_9sFyrEBsVtYbkYpZGBonK8bybreGK-5XwpnaHj13juS-7yy5s0Gjh-mMVhjT2PwE8mYaT-DOoxZl5gchP68Ds_yLuhLx7x6a1VIiEWFhYNiSsKMbg8axf1DRAwe1zG_7MSm1N_o/s640/manual1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Ok, full disclosure, the more I practiced, the more I noticed --
things. The upper manual had keys that would stick, and the pedals would
sometimes sound two notes instead of one. But what did I expect? This thing was
literally soldered together with thin wire and ribbon cables. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBkpyTSanCH_aTbqqUzk_194QobUQ5gCc01KxqUbUUD4LWd0BaMoe4aQleQdjQIB_BtKofVnNrw4GNUyX6yYuNHobxPDf0FRy1IJOxyqQuQFTukFUtADJFjKVs66_lv3jayKcNaOdx-Q/s1125/pedals1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtBkpyTSanCH_aTbqqUzk_194QobUQ5gCc01KxqUbUUD4LWd0BaMoe4aQleQdjQIB_BtKofVnNrw4GNUyX6yYuNHobxPDf0FRy1IJOxyqQuQFTukFUtADJFjKVs66_lv3jayKcNaOdx-Q/s640/pedals1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0aHPBijUL0R7ijM2GqikZ3RQrbgZH8GuhAkN9K74uCM5wgkc40BhqkYqyXzBIbzh6TWQ4zaiWZw-0zmiUDEJLt97BxbRtvIlIIr17WBAM7n43l1YrMsvoL9kcJ_-c1fzqU5V1d_0MYw/s1125/pedals2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0aHPBijUL0R7ijM2GqikZ3RQrbgZH8GuhAkN9K74uCM5wgkc40BhqkYqyXzBIbzh6TWQ4zaiWZw-0zmiUDEJLt97BxbRtvIlIIr17WBAM7n43l1YrMsvoL9kcJ_-c1fzqU5V1d_0MYw/s640/pedals2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBc965BxRl4wZlgaFD9YZAzMDvmVZT2mFXXk8agGSEpRTDm0ISEtReJJwwrN9jI4vbgFkmvFynOmh4sJf72QKlrPn6GZtfhSK1i2VpT7wocWGkLHzLo_Lf63TXJziD41qOqAvN5-uwNVA/s1125/pedals3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="1125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBc965BxRl4wZlgaFD9YZAzMDvmVZT2mFXXk8agGSEpRTDm0ISEtReJJwwrN9jI4vbgFkmvFynOmh4sJf72QKlrPn6GZtfhSK1i2VpT7wocWGkLHzLo_Lf63TXJziD41qOqAvN5-uwNVA/s640/pedals3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Then came the pedalboard issues. The pedalboard band springs had
been screwed into the old, compromised wood of the pedalboard. Three hours a day
of practice took its toll. The screws began to pull up. I replaced all of the
screws with bolts that I threaded through the bottom of the board and capped
with a locking nut.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">When the pedals started double sounding, I tightened the nuts. I also
reinforced weak wood (where the bolt would pull through) with any metal I could
find. A couple of band springs lost their spring. At one point, I shoved a
kitchen knife under a band spring to keep the note from sagging and sounding
eternally. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I had to resolder manual keys whose wires had come detached. And
four or five times a year (usually after a power outage) I would tear the whole
organ apart and pray that God would show me how to get the midi controller
boards working again. I kept sockets and a socket wrench in the organ
bench. The organ and I kept up this battle for 8 years. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Eventually I gave up on
the thumb pistons and stops ever working again. As long as I had my keyboards
and pedalboard, I could continue to practice. In the midst of the pandemic,
shortly after I started back to work, we had another power outage. I spent the
good part of two weeks trying to get the organ working again. I was able to get
my Greats back, but no swell or pedal board. I had been trying to buy midi controllers
that accommodated the 34 pin ribbon cables since the pistons and stops had gone
out. I tried again. No luck.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I figured I could learn
to rewire the all the boards to fit newer midi controllers (and still have the
sticky keys and a decaying pedalboard) or I could finally put real money into
my instrument. Even God knows you can't rely on miracles forever. He also wants
us to work and sacrifice. Prayers helped me realize that I now have money and
it's ok to spend money on nice things for myself. Not only could I buy quality
parts, I could buy the parts I'd been drooling over for the last decade - the
ebony and cherry wood manuals from Midiworks.ca as well as a fully midi
pedalboard. Thinking everything would be plug and play, I anticipated my organ
would be back up and playable within a week. Since I was working on
hardware upgrades, I decided to focus on software as well as upgrade my
speakers and recording capabilities. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I hate to make this post
overly long, but I think maybe it might help some organist somewhere? I want to
mention that since Easter, I have been trying to record weekly Sabbath prelude
music. Playing the organ is my job at church. With the pandemic, and not being
able to attend church in person, recording and posting prelude helps me with my
personal worship. And while I realize that neither man nor God need my prelude,
I need it. My home needs it. I practiced for quite a while for my Easter prelude.
It was my first and only time doing a Facebook live and while it was not
perfect, I was happy with the music selection and my performance.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> I was unhappy with the recorded sound,
however. I was recording using a webcam, a pc and a microphone. I have found that
Hauptwerk sounds better on a Mac. But I was still avoiding the inevitableness
of having to purchase Hauptwerks 5. But since I was upgrading the organ, I
figured I would fix everything. I had been using a PA system as speakers for my
organ. My kids were desperate to get the speakers out of the living room, due
to their size and "ugliness". They suggested getting a soundcard for
the PC and connecting to a soundbar with woofer.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySgjFspCcXhdMzFRPM2pEteLswgKxWgII4SGDATdQPGdfDDqt6_0dXZkuFBmkUHALsXMGKI2flef6ZI28c3adhyphenhyphenfs2lBrLLZEsspyCD_qVRIsu3r1Vf_j016tMLlxQmt7q28-nALBNN8/s1500/sam2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjySgjFspCcXhdMzFRPM2pEteLswgKxWgII4SGDATdQPGdfDDqt6_0dXZkuFBmkUHALsXMGKI2flef6ZI28c3adhyphenhyphenfs2lBrLLZEsspyCD_qVRIsu3r1Vf_j016tMLlxQmt7q28-nALBNN8/s640/sam2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The keyboards arrived
and fit snuggly into the cabinet where the older keyboards had sat. I had a
beautiful manuals only computer and recorded prelude written for manuals only
that week. Then the pedals arrived and sorrow set in. Apparently the full
pedals I had before were not to AGO specifications. And the new set was too
wide for my organ console. I set everything up on a table so I could practice
while I pouted and considered my options. I would have to cut into my organ
console (cabinet) - the one thing I loved about my old organ. It's antiqueness.
It's history of being a console for a pipe organ in a church.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TBmjjYTZSN4HCNnreEWjiToxNcaVLNJ04sgz98Jr_ZrKljXrHfK_A6rOeBj8z3wzkgAGKCA_Ic5n0kMZSoYID263F2kNn4CoHdn2_0jjjlBOLxL1iedfBrFrxAIoOdIagfP3CA8R_3A/s1500/pedals+don%2527t+fit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1125" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5TBmjjYTZSN4HCNnreEWjiToxNcaVLNJ04sgz98Jr_ZrKljXrHfK_A6rOeBj8z3wzkgAGKCA_Ic5n0kMZSoYID263F2kNn4CoHdn2_0jjjlBOLxL1iedfBrFrxAIoOdIagfP3CA8R_3A/s640/pedals+don%2527t+fit.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAKQfEQ3pUzygJFMNLDwxWp-sHAWwzz54uamk4LRra8APDsFPyZ6tZmkQ6yy_n9bE-NyedsAB__Ch9p1y07_dJJc4QJr47VjslRuG40raXP2_UReyMayvMEgRmAL0oUXhBRENavknjHQ/s2048/cutaway.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAKQfEQ3pUzygJFMNLDwxWp-sHAWwzz54uamk4LRra8APDsFPyZ6tZmkQ6yy_n9bE-NyedsAB__Ch9p1y07_dJJc4QJr47VjslRuG40raXP2_UReyMayvMEgRmAL0oUXhBRENavknjHQ/s640/cutaway.jpg" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">But it couldn't be
helped. The cabinet would be useless without the components and the components
needed somewhere to go. The kids and I gutted the console, sanded it down,
refinished with Sedona Red stain so that every piece matched. And then we made
the heart-wrenching cuts into the cabinet. Once everything was back together, I
felt better. The organ looked good - but I still wasn't done.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzyp6prF-ySBcPpjrtBQZ83fmdOS0JBscAVvekuAGS45-R_ZVBoXBMq-h5BvDB8CF4n7xdLYv2dbcJIoTuk-zu8T7dIiYlSBJTNdC1f4e3uotESXGpDttMVL2sNEQlOFiUD3FZai0yxI/s2048/finalorgan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKzyp6prF-ySBcPpjrtBQZ83fmdOS0JBscAVvekuAGS45-R_ZVBoXBMq-h5BvDB8CF4n7xdLYv2dbcJIoTuk-zu8T7dIiYlSBJTNdC1f4e3uotESXGpDttMVL2sNEQlOFiUD3FZai0yxI/s640/finalorgan.jpg" width="640" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt; text-align: left;">The sound blaster improved
the audio coming from the PC computer, but the soundbar and woofer combo could
not handle the range and polyphony of the organ. If I played the pedals too low
or played too many notes, the woofer rattled. I purchased a Scarlett 2i2
external sound mixer, but it wasn't compatible with Windows 7. So many trials
and errors.</span></div>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I went back to the Catalina
OS MacMini and installed a trial version of Hauptwerk 5. I routed the sound
through the Scarlett 2i2 to a Fender bass amp I had sitting around. It was a
great sound for practicing. For recording, I looped from the Scarlett 2i2 back
into the MacMini mic input jack and was satisfied with the results.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I have a touch screen
monitor that I use for pressing virtual stops and pistons. This monitor works
for a PC but not for a Mac. I purchased a program that allows Macs to use the touch
capability of a monitor. I paid for the upgrade to Hauptwerk 5. It was slightly
cheaper than I anticipated as they gave me credit for having already purchased
the perpetual license for Hauptwerk 4. Hauptwerk is pushing users to upgrade to
Hauptwerk 5, not for increased functionality, but for increased security for
the developers of sample sets. I guess some hacking was going on. New
encryption is used with the virtual organs, so several of my old organs don't
work with the new version.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I am just finishing up
with the process of loading organs. The only organ I am sad about losing is the
Composite English Organ that Les Deutsch of nightbloomingjazzmnen.com
assembled. It has the best Diapason stops. He indicates that it will work with
Hauptwerk 5. I just haven't been able to get it to go as of yet.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Still I have plenty of
organs to play. I am listing them below as well as resources where they can be
found.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> One final
shout-out. In the midst of all this upheaval and revision, I attended the BYU
Organ Workshop online. I was uplifted, inspired, and encouraged. I've tried
adopted a few tips I picked up. One that involved technology, includes the app
ForScore. I have been using iPads to read music for years, but what I didn't
know was that if you pay $10 a year, you can get the pro version of ForScore which
includes gesture page turns, meaning, all I have to do to turn the page is turn
my head. This is amazing and has been a great tool. I've been using my
daughters 12.9 inch iPad 11 pro as my iPad mini has a rather small screen.
Maybe Santa will bring me my own large iPad? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> Below is the list
of reliable Sample Sets I have installed. I have three relatively cheap organs
that I have purchased (Schantz 3-manual-$150 ,St. Eucaire-$150, and
Menesterol-$70). The others are available free of cost. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<ul type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Azzio (small free organ)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bakats demo with good functionality (free )<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bureau (free)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Cracov<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dluga Koscielna<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Doesburg, St. Marini Walcker, Demo - not all stops
available<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Enigma<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">French Harmonium<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Friesach Extended<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ghent Carillon<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Giubiasco (has Zimbelstern stop)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Green Positiv (Small - one keyboard)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Groningen Demo<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Groton<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Melbourne Town Hall (trial) few stops available<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Scots (trial)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jeux D'orgues 2 Stiehr Mockers<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kanta<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Late Romantic Composite<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Les Cracov Extended<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Les Pitea 945<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Les Expanded Schantz (Purchased copy of Schantz)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Little Waldingfield<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Menesterol (Purhased)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Menesterol extended<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hammond Model 945 (has chime stop)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Paramount Theater Organ 310<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Piacenza Demo<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Pitea Extended<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Raszczye<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rotterdam<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Saint Eucaire Cavaille-Coll (Purchased)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Saint-Jean-de-Luz<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Schantz 3 manual (purchased)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Skrzatusz<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sonus Paradise Great Baroque<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">St Mary Le Bow<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">St. Michel en Thierache<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">St Pons<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">St Annes Moseley (comes with Hauptwerk)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Strassburg<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sygsoft Harpsichord<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Szczecinek<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Velesovo (limited stops)<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Walker1747<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Williams Expanded Schantz<o:p></o:p></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Williams Lew Jeux D'Orgues<o:p></o:p></span></li>
</ul>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Resources<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://organareginaecaeli.wordpress.com/best-free-hauptwerk-sample-sets/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://piotrgrabowski.pl/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://virtualpipeorgans.wordpress.com/sample-sets/free-sample-set-producers/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">http://www.sonusparadisi.cz/en/blog/category/free-stuff/</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://almorse.net/content_freeorgans.html</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.lavenderaudio.co.uk/organs/smb/smb-samplesets.html</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/5922196299871688841/1090828325647023849"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">http://nightbloomingjazzmen.com/NBJ_Organ_Software.html</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p></div><div><div></div></div>Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-36879981945870912912020-08-02T09:22:00.010-07:002020-08-02T09:43:36.658-07:00Say Hello to my little (organ) friendI miss my sister. Especially when I blog. The funnest part of posting on line for me was waiting for her comment. She always had the most genuinely kind things to say to me, as if my interests were fascinating to her. A kind word from Judy was a rare and treasured jewel, because she was the most frank and outspoken person I know. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/i8hRBx-cs2o" width="320" youtube-src-id="i8hRBx-cs2o"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8hRBx-cs2o&fbclid=IwAR2VobD_FeBBfHMK06LvaBzrPacYPFJz6P3clfdtvr0r0KNYPtpsR1NX_e8">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i8hRBx-cs2o&fbclid=IwAR2VobD_FeBBfHMK06LvaBzrPacYPFJz6P3clfdtvr0r0KNYPtpsR1NX_e8</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><font size="2">(apparently the visual link to the youtube video of my new organ isn't showing up on Android so the above is the direct link)</font></i></div><div><div><br /></div><div>On this the Sabbath day, and on a day that pre-pandemic would have included Fast and Testimony meetings in Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saint chapels across the globe, I want to share something that Judy, in her frank and outspoken way, taught me. When Judy was a student at Brigham Young University, she attended a campus ward. One Sunday during fast and testimony meeting, a young co-ed stood and bore her testimony of a miracle she had witnessed. When this young lady had gotten in her car that morning to go to church, her car wouldn't start. Her car had been struggling for a couple of weeks, but that morning, it would not even turn over. After trying several minutes to get the car to start, the girl returned to her apartment, went to her bedroom, got down on her knees and said a prayer. She then returned to the car and it started. The student thanked the Lord for his tender mercies.</div><div><br /></div><div>My frank and down-to-earth sister was unimpressed with this miracle. She explained to me that we can't expect the Lord to miraculously fix our car every time we need to go somewhere. Sometimes we just need to fix the car. My tender heart was taken aback by this because I know that due to finances, sometimes we can't afford to get things fixed. I do not like to discount the faith-building experiences of others. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's been forty years since my sister told me that story with her critical analysis. Obviously the story had an impact on me because I am still pondering it. I thought on it a few years back as I read Trevor Noah's memoir, "Born a Crime." In his book, he tells how his mother drug him to church every Sunday. She drove an old unreliable VW Beetle. One Sunday, they got in the car and it wouldn't start. He turned to his mother and said, "I guess Jesus doesn't want us to go to church today." She responded, "Satan doesn't want us to go to church today and he has thrown this obstacle in our way. But we will show him that this won't stop us." They rode the bus to church.</div><div><br /></div><div>And I am thinking about Judy's story today. I am thinking about the Lord's tender mercies and how he blesses us by helping us solve our own problems. A couple of weeks ago, my organ gave up the ghost. It had always been touchy. I bought it off a guy in California 15 years ago. He had frankensteined it from old parts from multiple organs as a DIY project. He sold it to me because he had built a better one. My organ ran on faith, five power supplies, and four midi boards. Each key was soldered to a wire in a computer ribbon cable. Every time the power went out, I would have to reconfigure the organ to get it to work. This could take days, and tears, and of course lots and lots of prayer.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two weeks ago, when the power failed and I could not resurrect the organ, I remembered Judy's story. How long was I going to expect a miracle when I now have the means to repair the organ. I have the means to purchase quality parts - and that is a miracle as well. So I purchased two modern midi manuals (keyboards) and a new midi pedalboard. The manuals showed up a few days ago. The pedals will be here next week. I continue to praise the Lord for his goodness and that, like Judy, he is interested in what interests me, expects me to learn and grow, and work through the obstacles in my way.</div></div>Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-46881253921065383622020-06-28T12:38:00.001-07:002020-06-28T12:38:24.139-07:00Thoughts on the Martyrdom of Joseph and HyrumOne of my favorite themes from the musical Hamilton is encapsulated in the phrase, "who lives, who dies, who tells your story." As much as we like to look at history as a list of facts that never change, it is important to note, who lived, who died and who writes the story.<br />
<br />
From an educator's viewpoint, I understand society's desire to spin simple tales of historic people who exemplify society's core values. For example, George Washington's honesty, Abraham Lincoln's belief that all men are created equal, and Columbus' divine discovery of America. Real people and real events are much more complicated. The stories we understand as children should not be the same histories we understand as adults. How we teach and understand history should and does affect how we act and react towards current events.<br />
<br />
As I ponder on the martyrdom of Joseph and Hyrum, I reflect on the accounts I have read and the political leanings of the time. It took a long time for the Saints to get over the raw emotions brought on by the perceived unfairness of the violence in Illinois and Missouri. I have a great grandfather who was shot in cold blood in front of his family near Nauvoo. So many lost loved ones, and everyone lost Brother Hyrum and Brother Joseph...<br />
<br />
From this time in history, hopefully we no longer hold the kind of anger that resulted in The Mountain Meadow Massacre, but what have we learned? For me, I hold onto the idea that I will help others. That I show love, concern, towards those who worship differently than me. I show love and support towards those who are the victims of unfair policy or policing, and I show support towards who are leaving their homes to find a place of peace where they can raise their children.<br />
<br />
It is the 176th anniversary of Joseph and Hyrum's death. I love you. I am thankful for all that you did for us and the world. I am thankful for your influence on my ancestors and your continued influence on me. Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah, death cannot conquer the hero again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-82112903328708281702020-04-19T09:34:00.000-07:002020-04-19T09:34:54.015-07:00When I consider how my light is spentMy favorite poem is John Milton's Sonnet 19: On His Blindness. It's the line "God doth not need either man's work or his own gifts; who best bear his mild yoke, they serve him best," that gets me every time. And I understand that the Lord does not need me, but I need him.<br />
<br />
This week's lesson in the home centered church supported Come Follow Me curriculum is King Benjamin's address. He speaks to his people on service and what a blessing it has been for him to serve his people. He reminds his subjects that he is like them, "subject to all manner of infirmities in body and mind." He has labored to serve them and has not asked for riches in return. He famously tells his subjects, "I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God." Mosiah 2:17<br />
<br />
I really can't say if me posting prelude online helps any of my "fellow men," but I know it keeps me practicing so that when we again meet together, I will be able to play my part. I need to serve my God any way I can. Each time I play prelude, I feel my love grow as much as if I were bearing testimony of My God and My Savior and their infinite love for us. Below Milton's sonnet is my prelude for this week.<br />
<br />
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<h1 class="c-hdgSans c-hdgSans_2 c-mix-hdgSans_inline" style="border: 0px; display: inline; font-family: canada-type-gibson; font-size: 1.75rem; font-style: inherit; line-height: 1.231; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Sonnet 19: <span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">When I consider how my light is spent</span></h1>
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<span class="c-txt c-txt_attribution" style="border: 0px; color: #494949; display: inline-block; font-size: 0.875rem; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; letter-spacing: 1.4px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-transform: uppercase; vertical-align: baseline;">BY <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/john-milton" style="border: 0px; color: black; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; transition: color 250ms cubic-bezier(0.215, 0.61, 0.355, 1) 0s; vertical-align: baseline;">JOHN MILTON</a></span></div>
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When I consider how my light is spent,</div>
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Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,</div>
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And that one Talent which is death to hide</div>
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Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent</div>
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To serve therewith my Maker, and present</div>
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My true account, lest he returning chide;</div>
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“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”</div>
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I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent</div>
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That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need</div>
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Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best</div>
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Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state</div>
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Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed</div>
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And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:</div>
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They also serve who only stand and wait.”</div>
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Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-49581999066180193242020-01-23T12:25:00.000-08:002020-01-23T12:37:10.388-08:00Decolonizing Star Wars<br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I am not a Star Wars Uber Fan, but in case you need it, my
Force Number is B7203183000 (see accompanying Star Wars Fan Club
Correspondence).</span></div>
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Star Wars fandom, for me, comes and goes. I was pretty sure
I was forever over it, but then Disney+ released The Mandolorian and here I am taking
a stand like 1981 called and wants my Force Number back. This time, however, the force feels different. Back in the 1900’s Star Wars was about the epic battle of good versus evil. To help the audience out, the western symbolism of white and black was used. Good guys wore the white hats (the rebellion, Luke,
Leia, R2D2 ). Evil (Darth Vader) wore black.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtW1KkfL_Obe4fRgnstNDS9yTl1UN_AjvxgsWlnlOwFM49NmVjdy5zHPf5qyz2R_DcUOyJ2sxoRNb85NBBebPB1UcvGERH5ahHlkk07nOpuHPtURhlkvRJ1D3RZuoz1NIgM3p-eoTUmMk/s1600/star_wars_1977_styleA_linen_original_film_art_f_400x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtW1KkfL_Obe4fRgnstNDS9yTl1UN_AjvxgsWlnlOwFM49NmVjdy5zHPf5qyz2R_DcUOyJ2sxoRNb85NBBebPB1UcvGERH5ahHlkk07nOpuHPtURhlkvRJ1D3RZuoz1NIgM3p-eoTUmMk/s320/star_wars_1977_styleA_linen_original_film_art_f_400x.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
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I was raised a middleclass white girl. My father watched a
lot of TV -- Gunsmoke, Bonanza, John Wayne Movies. I know he took the family to
movies, but the only vivid memory I have of going to the movies as a family is of Dad
taking us to see Star Wars in 1977. Finally, a western the whole family could
enjoy! </div>
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The original Star Wars was released 43 years ago. A lot has changed
since then. For example, instead of a teenager, I am now a mother who has raised 7 indigenous children into adulthood.
My children have impacted my thinking way more than I ever imprinted their
thought process. For example – they don’t look upon Star Wars as the epic
battle between good versus evil. They see Star Wars as a glorification of imperialist/colonial
mindset on both sides. To them, the true heroes of the Star Wars saga are the
indigenous peoples who survive the endless warmongering of the Republic and the
Separatists/Empire.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbVCQrDgKmUg-4cr5iM311d3glnmgVIRZ5I1BbRB3wEpRf8TIEJLJAa_Y-yNfDhghtjMgcx3VckVa1uOvFij9qT1XTFinnMMfyfzSraYrmMX0DREXEipNBmgC_XiZUyw2oUACpEMdrtOs/s1600/satine.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1600" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbVCQrDgKmUg-4cr5iM311d3glnmgVIRZ5I1BbRB3wEpRf8TIEJLJAa_Y-yNfDhghtjMgcx3VckVa1uOvFij9qT1XTFinnMMfyfzSraYrmMX0DREXEipNBmgC_XiZUyw2oUACpEMdrtOs/s320/satine.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Take for example, Mandalore. When the animated series, The
Clone Wars, takes the viewer to Mandalore in Season Two (ep 12 – 14), Duchess
Satine has taken a position of neutrality. She will not pick a side in a war
that has nothing to do with her planet. After some violent acts by the terrorist
organization “Death Watch”, the Republic – shadow puppeteered by the evil Chancellor Palpatine – proposes to send troops to Mandalore for their own
protection. Duchess Satine declines the offer. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Defending? You mean to occupy our home. You would trample
our right to self-determination…You will turn our planet into a military
target, which will bring the war to us.” The clone wars were a mess where two
equally corrupt governments each headed by the same shadowy Palpatine fought over
who was the most righteous. In the end, it was the indigenous populations of
each planet that suffered and died.<o:p></o:p></div>
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That was a pretty lengthy backstory to get to the topic that
has been rattling around in my brain since the Mandalorian came out. My
children believe that Baby Yoda is a sacred indigenous baby. And it is not just
my children. Native Instagram and the Native Meme Staff Carriers have gone into
a creative frenzy adopting Baby Yoda into a plethora of cultural content. </div>
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NBC
News published an opinion on why Native Americans identify so well with Baby
Yoda. In the article, which you can read in its entirety <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/think/opinion/mandalorian-may-never-reveal-baby-yoda-s-true-origins-native-ncna1104126?fbclid=IwAR3aCsjnBw1GsJWvy8IvdjfUlSxFELjpaJPKSKCTrt17ZtwURmt0GUTFsNk">here</a>,
the author discusses the concept of "indigenization". The lack of representation for Native
Americans in popular culture causes the community to give certain aspects of
pop culture an “indigenous spin”. While insightful, this article does not
address the question of why Baby Yoda. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgOTHfm4CkeW6JcxX-vm0JyrDN-kCZrKxco80u2fIjycndxDOyqk_ndcdf3odHbdywrxVsiiuJokjYgFejzXrkpmirw648484jzp5gg2JqQT6jUqXu0CV72DrDQ4LXsaS4OEU2khQbS8/s1600/bb8.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1002" data-original-width="614" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmgOTHfm4CkeW6JcxX-vm0JyrDN-kCZrKxco80u2fIjycndxDOyqk_ndcdf3odHbdywrxVsiiuJokjYgFejzXrkpmirw648484jzp5gg2JqQT6jUqXu0CV72DrDQ4LXsaS4OEU2khQbS8/s200/bb8.png" width="122" /></a></div>
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DGO Magazine published an article on the influence of Star
Wars on indigenous art. You can read that article in its entirety <a href="https://dgomag.com/contents/4106?fbclid=IwAR3huEnQ-VUxwDNBa90SaAer-G9AR-Y7bGOq7qRk4tffsCr9xxAT6MqqpIo">here</a>.
It seems only fair that indigenous artists pull from Star Wars as we all know
Princess Leia got her side buns from the Hopi.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIhxU_JoROToSSpfmGZmcw__t-mSAvSw4b4o0DQzIWJulKwWLdiivz3vV_ZrxyOYDRMGsJMVCSsG19AU5H1Yn9xqgZM8aPo_TpGDPMdnXoxqmL0PSzuypUY4Y-tWY2_QZ-7Pol4odtic/s1600/hopi+princess+leia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="900" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIhxU_JoROToSSpfmGZmcw__t-mSAvSw4b4o0DQzIWJulKwWLdiivz3vV_ZrxyOYDRMGsJMVCSsG19AU5H1Yn9xqgZM8aPo_TpGDPMdnXoxqmL0PSzuypUY4Y-tWY2_QZ-7Pol4odtic/s320/hopi+princess+leia.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The DGO article also mentions that
Star Wars was the first Hollywood movie dubbed into Navajo. So why we’re asking,
“Why Yoda?”, we should also be asking, “Why Star Wars.” I’m going back to my
answer of decolonization. I don’t believe that Native Americans need to
indigenize Yoda. He is an indigenous life form. Here's hoping Season 2 of
the Mandalorian will remain focused on returning Baby Yoda (aka "the child") to his people and getting his
#landback.<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-4880714319775156762019-04-17T22:13:00.001-07:002019-04-17T22:13:39.580-07:00The Cost of a Quality InstrumentSeveral, several, several years ago, my son saved up his money and bought a $400 keyboard/synthesizer to connect to his computer. Although he bought it new, it had some problems. It was under warrantee - the trick was, to get it repaired for free, we had to take it to a certified Yamaha repairman.<br />
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The closest repairman was in Las Vegas, a two hour drive away. When I went to pick it up, the repairman indicated it was fixed, but then threw some shade toward the instrument. He said, "the keyboard <i><b>I</b> </i>use costs $4,000." I smiled and nodded, knowing I had just come from practicing a pipe organ in Vegas that probably cost $40,000.<br />
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I've been pondering the cost of one particular instrument this week. I was devastated by the news of the fire at Notre Dame in Paris. The destruction of the "forest" in the ceiling made of 12th century timbers is a loss to humanity. The timbers used for the ceiling are thought to be from 300 year old trees. Because of pollution and other global problems, trees don't grow as they once did - timber is not as dense.<br />
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In addition, the Cavaille-Coll organ installed in the cathedral is considered one of the premier organs in the world. While other historic and sacred artifacts were rescued from the burning building using a human chain, a pipe organ is not an instrument that can be easily moved.<br />
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The good news is that early reports indicate that the organ was not damaged by the fire or the water used to fight the fire. The bad news is that it has been covered in dust. Pipe organs are highly susceptible to dust. It will take an amazing amount of effort to restore this organ. The effort will be made. This instrument is priceless because of its history, its craftsmanship, and the generations of effort that have gone in to its upkeep and performance.<br />
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That of course has me reflecting on my own effort. I have not been practicing as I should. When I take lessons and have someone to whom I am accountable, I can easily practice two to three hours a day. When I have no one to report back to, I am lucky to get two to three hours per week. So I am disappointed that I don't play as well as I did, but I still love it so!<br />
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I love hearing a congregation sing boldly and with conviction. I love playing prelude and helping to invite the spirit into a meeting. At this point in my life, I have a pretty good collection of prelude to choose from. But just like looking into a closet full of clothes and saying, "I have nothing to wear," i often want to play a hymn for which I cannot find an appropriate arrangement. I am not the best arranger, but when I have an idea of what I'd like to do, I am sometimes stubborn enough to do it.<br />
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I want to play "Gethsemane, Jesus Loves Me" as prelude for Easter. It is one of my youngest boy's favorite songs. I was surprised that I couldn't find an organ arrangement for purchase, so I made a simple arrangement for myself. I'm super excited to sneak this into my prelude on Easter Sunday. And I thought I would share it with anyone else who might like to give it a go.<br />
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<a href="https://www.scribd.com/document/406681896/Gethsemane-pdf#from_embed" style="text-decoration: underline;" title="View Gethsemane.pdf on Scribd">Gethsemane.pdf</a> by <a href="https://www.blogger.com/undefined#from_embed" style="text-decoration: underline;" title="View 's profile on Scribd"></a> on Scribd</div>
<iframe class="scribd_iframe_embed" data-aspect-ratio="null" data-auto-height="true" frameborder="0" height="600" scrolling="no" src="https://www.scribd.com/embeds/406681896/content?start_page=1&view_mode=scroll&show_recommendations=false&access_key=key-vRZnNLJ8cIOH1zjNLAs7" title="Gethsemane.pdf" width="100%"></iframe><br />
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The other Easter prelude I will use this year will come from Laurel Hunt Pederson's Easter collection (http://laurelhuntpedersen.com/organ-music/). I've mentioned her arrangements before. I particularly like her Easter Selection. I had thought of some Passion arrangements by William Herd (I played Herd for Christmas) but decided it would be a little heavier than what I would like.<br />
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A few months back, I also adapted a barbershop quartet version of Because I Have Been Given Much, to the organ. The harmonies are beautiful. I am going to share that in this post as well. Happy Easter everyone. Let's take this time to sing praises to our God, with our own voices or that of a great big organ!<br />
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Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-33362399276429161232017-03-05T22:43:00.000-08:002017-03-06T10:15:40.902-08:00More than White Noise - Organ Prelude Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once upon a five month period of time, I taught music in a Youth Rehab Center. The superintendent was chatting me up one day and asked, "Do you play music in your home?" I assured him we did. The kids are always practicing. I'm forever practicing. And then don't get me started on family band.<br />
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The superintendent then explained to me that his son is married to a "Mormon" girl and the in-laws' house is always quiet. I defended the faith by telling him that even in my parent's home music was always being played. My mother taught piano. My sister's played stringed instruments and sang. We all practiced piano and organ. The summer months were spent learning ukulele, guitar, and accordion.<br />
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I didn't realize this wasn't what he meant regarding music and quiet until he said, "From the time I get home until the time I leave either a radio, record player, or tv is playing." When compared to this, I suppose one could call my home quiet.<br />
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Don't get me wrong. This isn't one of those blogs that is anti modern music. My household has a family Spotify plan. I personally have an Amazon Prime account with a good collection of music from classical to Broadway to Rock and Roll. In my home you may at <i>anytime</i> hear Northern Cree or Hamilton or John Denver or Nahko and Medicine for the People playing through my large screen television or on somebody's bluetooth speaker. But it is not on <i>all the time</i>. We have music on when we are cleaning, or dancing, or sharing. Still, more often than not, the family sits in quiet and visits, or reads, or studies.<br />
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In my opinion, the music my superintendent was describing isn't music at all, but white noise. It is a sound filler attempting to make a place seem less lonely, less boring, or less empty. In some homes white noise plays 24 hours a day. I've known people who can't sleep unless the tv is on all night long.<br />
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Story two. Many, many years ago, my family lived on a reservation. We moved into a 20 year old HUD home. This home had not been treated well over the years. It had the reputation of being a party house. Rumor had it that people only stayed in that house long enough to get kicked out. I found that if I left the TV on, the kids would start fighting. If I left the radio on as background noise, there would be contention in the home. But if I was very careful about what we watched and when we watched or listened, we could keep a very sweet spirit in the home.<br />
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OK. Now that we have a common platform of shared history, I am ready to start my rant about Organ Prelude music in LDS sacrament meetings. Wait -- one more story. I was sitting in a fast-and-testimony meeting where an older woman was testifying about her grandchildren. She told them she was taking them to church. As their parents also took them to church, the grandkids were unsure which church she meant. "The eating church or the singing church?" they asked. I was sorely disappointed to discover that the LDS church was "the eating church".<br />
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Over fifty years ago, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, Adam S. Benion said, "In the Church we need better music and more of it, and better speaking and less of it." Music in most sacrament meetings has not improved since then. I fear that many members of a congregation view singing the hymns of praise as a duty rather than a delight. I further worry that many of these members hear organ prelude music as white noise -- noise to fill the empty space while members visit and concern themselves with worldly cares. Like my home that needed special care to invite the holy spirit, special care is needed from an organist to not only invite the spirit, but to also inspire the congregation to remove their worldly baggage and prepare themselves to receive a spiritual communion.<br />
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Organists are quick to point fingers at the congregation. Organists fulfill their duty and play, but nobody listens. From this despair I believe many organists downplay their efforts. Believing nobody is listening, it stands to reason that preparation is futile. I see many organists accept cold-read tunes played rote from the hymnal as appropriate prelude -- page 100 blandly followed by 101, then 102 and so forth. This breaks my heart. If the organist doesn't express a delight in playing the hymns, the congregation doesn't stand a chance.<br />
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I have found some success by playing hymn arrangements sparsely mixed with arrangements of hymns not found in the hymnal and hymn-like classical pieces. I don't play these pieces to show off my prowess. I play these pieces because I believe that my efforts matter. I believe that if even one person is moved by my prelude to ponder upon the hymn and to turn their thoughts heavenward, I have succeeded. The nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me is not, "You are a fantastic organist." It was, "I never see you stand and bear your testimony on Fast Sunday, but I hear you bear it every week as you play the organ."<br />
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And then there was today. A sabbath miracle. It was Fast and Testimony Meeting. The chorister chose to sing "Thy Spirit Lord has Touched our Souls," for the closing hymn. I have a great arrangement of that hymn. I wanted to play it right before the meeting started. I also planned to play it again as a refrain at the end of the meeting. This arrangement is difficult, but it has been in my repertoire for years. Because of its difficulty level, I counter balanced it with some simpler arrangements I have. At five (maybe six) before the hour, I began playing "Thy Spirit Lord". It was shorter than I anticipated. When it ended I still had three more minutes.<br />
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I let silence fill the chapel as I re-opened my easier arrangements. Just as the silence fell the Bishop walked onto the stand. The congregation settled. They thought the meeting was about to start. I played two more arrangements before the Bishop stood. The congregation didn't make a peep for the entire three minutes -- Reverence Sustained!!!<br />
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Fast and testimony meeting was sacred and special. I can't credit that to the organ, but it did pave the way.<br />
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For those who say, they don't have the skills to play more than the hymns for prelude, I am listing resources:<br />
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<ol>
<li>http://www.organ.byu.edu/newldsorganist/ The LDS church is aware that many organists are pianists learning a new instrument. This site offers training, free arrangements, and simplified arrangements.</li>
<li>http://laurelhuntpedersen.com/organ-music/ Laurel Hunt Pedersen is an LDS organist. She has arranged dozens upon dozens of LDS hymns. She has them in collections that can be used throughout the year. These are free downloads.</li>
<li>http://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/the-new-organist-volume-8-sheet-music/18638218 Jackman music has a series called The New Organist - Low Practice Prelude. There are 10 volumes in this series. These arrangements are easier than playing the hymns and they still pack a punch. They are currently selling for $7.16 a piece</li>
<li>http://www.sheetmusicplus.com/title/postludes-vol-3-sheet-music/19512038 The arrangement of They Spirit Lord Has Stirred My Soul that I played today is a Kasen arrangement. This series of prelude books is simply entitled Postludes and is also available from Jackman Music.</li>
<li>Hymn arrangements can also be created from the hymnbook. Try soloing a voice other than the soprano, tenor works very well. Play the tenor line on the Swell with solo voicing while playing the soprano and alto softly on the great. Play different verses with contrasting registration. Use reeds to invoke a sense of sacrifice and suffering, use string celestes on verses invoking the sublime. Use flutes for clear simplicity.</li>
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Above all, prayerfully prepare. Choosing and practicing prelude and hymns should take as much time as preparing a talk or lesson. Who among us would walk into their Relief Society or class of 12 year-olds, open the manual, and cold-read the lesson?Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-34561779720753958092017-01-15T17:12:00.000-08:002017-01-15T17:12:31.024-08:00Judea_and_the_wolf and the Guest Blog<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Service Christmas Photo Essay</span></b></h2>
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<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"> Wounded Knee</span></h3>
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Oceti Shakowin</span></h3>
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<h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Oceti Shakowin<br />Portraits</span></h3>
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<h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Mato Tipina</span></h3>
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Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-85655416377097925582017-01-11T21:09:00.003-08:002017-01-12T00:06:46.953-08:00Pilgrims Progress - Word and Photo Essay (pc Judea aka LittleFighter)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cBg5fEYvObNmy_ZLWDHgQ8kkQ8Jfvv7lsQl2F3hfBmJ4hlUF_kbYfdYlW1PxiFoKIScHWANb7vGLRD0AdZKx2UhKmHd5BMq6Fd2zN0k-neU9qPoSV_kGRj8aNJmH0By5XJTJ_yvLUdw/s1600/StandingRock_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cBg5fEYvObNmy_ZLWDHgQ8kkQ8Jfvv7lsQl2F3hfBmJ4hlUF_kbYfdYlW1PxiFoKIScHWANb7vGLRD0AdZKx2UhKmHd5BMq6Fd2zN0k-neU9qPoSV_kGRj8aNJmH0By5XJTJ_yvLUdw/s400/StandingRock_04.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;</span></i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><i><span style="font-size: small;">And specially from every shires ende</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">Apparently there's been a revival of pilgrimages in Europe. Sacred sites both well known and lesser known are seeing an uptick in traffic. Not so in the United States. Yes, despite what you are thinking, there are sacred sites in America. Then again, maybe the sacred sites being visited in the United States aren't the ones that charge or make a tally. </span><br />
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In my head, I've thought of the family trip to Standing Rock as a pilgrimage. I didn't express that - it seemed too silly to say out loud, but now that we are back, I have found that reviewing it as such has helped me be ok with my feelings and the results of our experience. It turns out my experience is not atypical at all. It follows the pattern of the pilgrimage. Learning this has somehow helped me feel whole.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaXag3YaWDThy_Wlt2ov86uS6hKZREfd12KEAHoULErXP8dDozsZSEWWqmrbC_imnGizqXri61SRd648geMd_P9GjgkWuFtzfw_RHVWnaa4fuz91WVUXU87X7Ijm1onKDJOteEJi-bJI/s1600/WoundedKnee_04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaXag3YaWDThy_Wlt2ov86uS6hKZREfd12KEAHoULErXP8dDozsZSEWWqmrbC_imnGizqXri61SRd648geMd_P9GjgkWuFtzfw_RHVWnaa4fuz91WVUXU87X7Ijm1onKDJOteEJi-bJI/s400/WoundedKnee_04.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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PBS has a great definition of Pilgrimage on its Sacred Journeys page (http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/sacredjourneys/content/pilgrimage/). In its description, PBS lists 6 stages to a pilgrimage.</div>
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1. THE CALL. This is described as a longing or yearning. </div>
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We were not the only people to feel a call to the Cannon Ball river. The people we met in Oceti Shokowin expressed this same feeling. Before going north, my son Mason spoke to someone who spent months in the Red Warrior camp. She told him, "Everyone who feels the call should travel to Standing Rock." I have spent ample time in early blogs expressing the longing we all felt to go to Oceti Shakowin and add our prayers to those being uttered there.<br />
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2. THE SEPARATION. Separation comes from suspending day-to-day worries and placing your trust in a higher power. </div>
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Our pilgrimage to the Oceti Shakowin camp did one better. Even though I upgraded our phones to ensure better coverage out-of-state. We still found ourselves disconnected from the world wide web more often than not. This natural state of unplugged help me to suspend my worries of work and obligation and tomorrow. I was able to participate fully in the here and now.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1OAhty2s870uGmW7KMkY4uqS-hn8NsfH0kq81pSeVUkmwiRNWk5YueQjfffizGwntTgbSbpBotg1swNsKNXBaCyvtX6-KU3N5kd5Z9UABUbPpEw7RTae54C8YU2Z1yzNmIbfxnkcnm_I/s1600/StandingRock_10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1OAhty2s870uGmW7KMkY4uqS-hn8NsfH0kq81pSeVUkmwiRNWk5YueQjfffizGwntTgbSbpBotg1swNsKNXBaCyvtX6-KU3N5kd5Z9UABUbPpEw7RTae54C8YU2Z1yzNmIbfxnkcnm_I/s640/StandingRock_10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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3. THE JOURNEY. The rougher the journey, the more successful the pilgrimage.</div>
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From inception our journey has been about faith. The physical journey did not vary from that theme. We had originally planned to travel on Christmas day, but I was not able to reserve lodging. Christmas morning included a large snowstorm in Utah and a blizzard in North and South Dakota. We left the next day - glad to have missed the blizzard. The roads throughout the four states we traveled showed the aftermath of the winter storm. We had periods of drifting snow, flying rocks, and blowing snow so thick visibility extended to the length of an arm. We also had periods where the snow cleared and we saw bald eagles lift off from the roadside. Despite our hardships, we felt blessed and supported.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCTIpQNqAujEJDRX5-l-WBXS6poebHeT5Qzkyv4Rm5F_4E6dhmdXSn29daD0rv4MWRGm00VULC6xueO-9R_bHQk9hOH7dZLGwDb1FSrN6E6JV7Fu_-mFXN_sB6qcpEvcAKzJzg-oGKig/s1600/WoundedKnee_13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCTIpQNqAujEJDRX5-l-WBXS6poebHeT5Qzkyv4Rm5F_4E6dhmdXSn29daD0rv4MWRGm00VULC6xueO-9R_bHQk9hOH7dZLGwDb1FSrN6E6JV7Fu_-mFXN_sB6qcpEvcAKzJzg-oGKig/s320/WoundedKnee_13.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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4. THE CONTEMPLATION While some pilgrims head straight for their goal, others take a round-about route.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKI5hkwK6_zPgJdneKg42pqYRvp5WgbE8muoSIz9R5N1CFd6nvLFvy306Jf9Kz3_SQrg7hl5dmMR695j2IOaVwv3_O8hYYItE6xIIrLZ04MKNfnEKfSj_LY8r3u01mpKyeduUJ2QnyDMQ/s1600/DevilsTower_06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKI5hkwK6_zPgJdneKg42pqYRvp5WgbE8muoSIz9R5N1CFd6nvLFvy306Jf9Kz3_SQrg7hl5dmMR695j2IOaVwv3_O8hYYItE6xIIrLZ04MKNfnEKfSj_LY8r3u01mpKyeduUJ2QnyDMQ/s400/DevilsTower_06.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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We took detours on our way to and from Standing Rock. We went out of our way to visit the Wounded Knee Massacre Site. This was a solemn time of prayer and reflection, of gratitude and sorrow.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3kEkQ6Ws593Y5phnUZGvTqUAhpk8qi8TPK8JX9KRnBC2gZKs_UYbPFxwbn10ZmxELyqAP-D_jQ3tsJZowfWAsYwKZfzhV0c5c5BOU1qLo0IL96Mpwgcq1KKWd7OsPu6rK6DJk_nO6ljo/s1600/WoundedKnee_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3kEkQ6Ws593Y5phnUZGvTqUAhpk8qi8TPK8JX9KRnBC2gZKs_UYbPFxwbn10ZmxELyqAP-D_jQ3tsJZowfWAsYwKZfzhV0c5c5BOU1qLo0IL96Mpwgcq1KKWd7OsPu6rK6DJk_nO6ljo/s400/WoundedKnee_01.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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On the way home we made an impromptu visit to Devils Tower, a sacred site where prayers have been made for hundreds, if not thousands of years.</div>
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5. THE ENCOUNTER An attempt to slip through the membrane and return to the garden of origin.<br />
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6. THE CONTEMPLATION and RETURN <span style="background-color: transparent;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent;">"At the culmination of the journey, the pilgrim returns home only to discover that meaning they sought lies in the familiar of one's old world."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent;">This phase of our pilgrimage was the most surprising for me. Upon our return, I felt an emptiness where the yearning had been. Rather than wishing to return, my attitude had changed. I want to pray at home. I want to see what I can do locally, whether that be support calls for clean air and preservation of sacred sites in Utah, or to recommit myself to recycling and personal conservation efforts.</span></div>
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</span>Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-88380180876150815842017-01-05T22:26:00.001-08:002017-01-05T22:47:17.850-08:00Isak Dinesen Quotes - Standing Rock EditionIsak Dinesen (the writer) has some great quotes.<br />
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<li><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">The cure for anything is salt water — sweat, tears, or the sea.</i></li>
<li><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road.</i></i></li>
<li><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i><i>Through all the world there goes one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me leave to do my utmost.</i></i></i></li>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I love these pearls, and perhaps they apply to the family's holiday trek. But my favorite is a Dinesen quote that she never actually said or wrote:</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This is not to say that I am a "man of constant sorrow", but rather I find that stories help me distill meaning from events both mundane and sublime.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">On the way to Standing Rock, we took a detour to Wounded Knee. Wounded Knee is a massacre site. On December 29, 1890 a large group of Ghost Dancers were surrounded by the 7th Calvary. Ghost Dancers believed their worship and dance would bring back the buffalo and those who had gone beyond the ridge. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The 7th Calvary demanded these dancers (mostly old men, women, and children) surrender their weapons. In the confusion a single shot rang out. The origin of this shot was never firmly established. The consequences of this shot, however, cry out from the red earth beneath the snow.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">One hundred and forty six members of Big Foot's band fell to the Army's Hotchkiss guns.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We met four groups of people as we explored the the massacre site and prayed on the hill above, and so begins my parable.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The first we met was a single man. He walked halfway up the snowy hill to meet us. He told us he lived nearby. His truck needed gas. His home needed weathering. The people visiting this memorial were his family's main source of income. My son, Mason, gave him some cash.</span></div>
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The third group we met was a family that spoke to my children. </div>
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"What did they say," I asked my girls.</div>
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"They were making sure we were ok," Bobo responded. "They wanted to make sure we weren't out of gas and that we had what we needed."</div>
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Bright and early on winter-crisp Tuesday morning, Wounded Knee was beginning to buzz with activity. The fourth couple that passed us, stopped to ask it the Dakota 38 + 2 riders were arriving that day. These riders travel on horseback through Mankota MN on December 26th to honor those 38 Dakota executed that day in 1862. On December 29th the riders arrive at Wounded Knee to mark the anniversary of those deaths. I let this couple know that the anniversary was still a couple of days away.</div>
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As I reflect back on our journey, I realize it was more about people than places. And people are people. Sometimes we struggle to survive. Other times we are able to reach out and ease our brothers burdens. Still other times we are able to lean back and enjoy the ride.</div>
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My son, Mason, has a solo project in which he performs under the name Wounded Knee. I filmed him singing Buffy St. Marie's song, "Wounded Knee" in the snow at Wounded Knee. At the same time, my daughter Judea was taking still photography. At a certain point this video turns into a visual essay on short people problems.</div>
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Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-23815073848068251242016-12-27T22:17:00.000-08:002016-12-28T06:09:24.624-08:00We Hold onto People Not Things - Standing Rock EditionGrowing up, you hold onto the things you love most, but sometimes you forget. You forget the things you love most, but that keeps you in line. It keeps you in check<br />
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When I was little, my mother made me a buckskin doll. It was made of fine buckskin -- hand tanned buckskin. The dress she wore was also of buckskin and was beautifully beaded. One day when I was playing with her, I decided to make her a new dress. The new dress didn't work out. I didn't put the original dress immediately back on the doll... In fact, I lost the beautifully beaded dress. That broke my tiny heart.<br />
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After a while, my mother took pity on me and made me a new, even finer dress for my buckskin doll. And I made the tiny doll a cradle board and baby out of leftover hand tanned buckskin, buffalo wool, and trade cloth. This was the first doll I ever made. I've made many since - but I no longer have hand tanned buckskin, buffalo wool or trade cloth. I use commercial buckskin and store bought fabric.<br />
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Fast forward to today. I was too lazy to look under the hotel bed before we left Nebraska and I left this doll's tiny baby behind. We called the hotel, but the doll is lost. I felt my heart break again, but this time I know - I can make another doll. I can make a tiny baby even better than the one I'd made before.<br />
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Just like in the story of the <a href="http://etc.usf.edu/lit2go/68/fairy-tales-and-other-traditional-stories/5075/the-dun-horse/" target="_blank">Dun Pony</a>, each horse Dirty Belly got after the Dun Pony was finer than the last. Sometimes in order to move forward, we have to let go of the past.<br />
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-- Guest Blogger, Naji Haska Oha Iyage<br />
#DokshaStandingRock<br />
<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-68675640602061659742016-12-26T22:47:00.000-08:002016-12-26T22:47:59.445-08:00It's All I've Ever Wanted - Standing Rock Edition<div style="text-align: center;">
We are on the road, and I am filled with gratitude.</div>
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I am thankful for my family - extended, by blood, by friendship, and by progeny. These are the people in my life who make me a better me. I want to thank Joy, Merilee, Sharon, Jill, Gary, Beau and Miki, Katie, Britt, and Amanda and Nolan. I want to thank everyone who has written us words of encouragement and hope.<br />
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Today we started with Sunrise in Utah</div>
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We had Sunset in Wyoming</div>
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It was well after dark before we made it to our stop in Chadron, Nebraska. Siri (in her best English Accent) estimated our trip at 9 hours. With a 45 minute lunch break, we made it in 12. </div>
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When I first proposed #DokshaStandingRock to my family as an alternative to Christmas, my youngest had "reservations". He could do without the Christmas gifts, but what would he say at school when asked, "What did you get for Christmas?" And worse yet, what if he were asked to write an essay on what he got for Christmas? </div>
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My response was, "You'll be able to write the best essay ever!" He didn't seem satisfied with that answer. so I acknowledged that our #DokshaStandingRock plan was not in the realm of normal, "But," I said, "Do you want to be like everyone else?"</div>
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His voice was soft, but sure, "It's all I've ever wanted."</div>
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Despite his common middle school complaint, he took the road less traveled with his family. Some of this road's conditions were sketchy. The worst was Wyoming Highway 20. The road had snow pack and ice. And to make it even more of a challenge, the blowing snow took visibility down to zero in places. </div>
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I was riding with my eldest son and his wife as we ironically passed Martin Cove and crossed over the Sweetwater river. The irony being, we would have stopped it the wind hadn't been so biting cold. (For those who don't know the tale, the Martin Handcart Company was holed up in that cove for five days trying to wait out an early October blizzard. This was after they were soaked from crossing the Sweetwater river.) My daughter in law told me the story of three young men who died carrying pioneers across that river. Her story reminded me of a folk song written around that time involving men from Sanpete County (my parents hail from there).</div>
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Today is December 26, 2016. I am remembering the past. I am thinking of the Dakota 38 who were executed on this day in 1856 in Mankota, MN for protecting their homeland. I am remembering Big Foot's Band at Wounded Knee and the massacre of old men, women and children on December 29, 1890. I am remembering those who lost their lives crossing the great plains because the First Amendment protection of religious freedom did not apply to them. Remembering these things does not make me anti-American. </div>
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It makes me a better American. It helps me understand who I am, what I have come from, and where I am going. It helps me understand that as America listens to the voice of those who have gone before -- as remembered by those who remain, she will gain strength in her honesty.</div>
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On a trip like this, it is the simple things like complimentary water and free public bathrooms that remind me how grateful I am for America and how my hopes and desires are wrapped up in her future.</div>
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-32047223826816002362016-12-17T06:55:00.000-08:002016-12-17T08:00:12.119-08:00A Delight Song For Naji Haska Oha IyageHe is<br />
A shimmer of water on a cold mountain stream<br />
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The golden leaf of winter refusing to fall<br />
A sunburst of light through dark thunderous clouds<br />
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A flat pebble skipping, skipping, skipping 'cross<br />
the still mountain lake<br />
The red earth drenched in a rare summer's rain<br />
A breeze of sweet grass blowing in from the east<br />
The greasy yellow of pony beads, the cheyenne pink of shells<br />
A shaking of bells and twirling of shawls<br />
The crackle and leaping of a flame from a fire<br />
A plume of smoke curling upward from sage<br />
He is the searching, searching, searching of<br />
the skyward eagle's eye<br />
The watery path of a loon lit by the sun<br />
A mountain in the north, snow capped and tall<br />
A quaking aspen in a forest of lodge pole pine<br />
He is a dream and a waking a future and a past<br />
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You see, he is a son and a brother, an anchor to his kin<br />
He stands tall in his spirit<br />
He stands tall in his pride<br />
He stands tall with his family<br />
He stands tall in his life<br />
You see, He is a son and a brother, an anchor to his kin<br />
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Happy Birthday Naji! (Nope, you're not <i>even</i> half-way done)<br />
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-55762224697695959202016-12-15T20:00:00.000-08:002016-12-15T20:00:36.773-08:00The Chipmunk's Tail - Standing Rock Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>"He had laughed at that and said he wished he, too, had a tail. His mother had said, "When you are a man you will have a tail, though you will never see it. You will have something always behind you."</i><br />
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<i>Now he understood. Now he knew that time lays scars on a man like the chipmunk's stripes, paths that lead from where he is now back to where he came from, from the eyes of his knowing to the tail of his remembering. They are the ties that bind a man to his own being, his small part of the roundness. (When the Legends Die)</i><br />
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Not all memory is personal. N. Scott Momaday wrote an essay, "Man Made of Words." In it he discusses racial memory.<br />
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<i>And in the racial memory, Ko-sahn had seen the falling stars. For her there was no distinction between the individual and the racial experience, even as there was none between the mythical and the historical. Both were realized for her in the one memory, and that was of the land. This landscape, in which she had lived for a hundred years, was the common denominator of everything that she knew and would ever know -- </i><br />
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<i>and her knowledge was profound. Her roots ran deep into the earth, and from those depths she drew strength enough to hold still against all the forces of chance and disorder.</i><br />
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Three of my seven children have never lived on the Fort Peck reservation. Three of my seven have never roamed their ancestral lands. And yet, even far away from culture and influence, their tails lead back to where they came from.<br />
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My youngest walks backward through life, like a heyoka. He studies old family photos of his siblings at powwows. "Whatever happened to that beadwork, that fan, that shawl, that necklace?" He creates items to replace those that were lost. He repairs regalia that is way past its prime.<br />
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His siblings bristle at his questions and tell him he doesn't know. He wasn't there. He missed out on so much. But he is not alone in his looking back.<br />
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We have all missed out on so much.<br />
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The tail of our remembering leads us back through our relations. Turnip Digger, Lodge Pole, Duck Head Necklace, Walking Cyclone, Gray Face Woman and her brother Crazy Bear.<br />
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All of these lived, loved, created -- prayed, always in the hope of a better life for their young ones.<br />
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We are not solely tail, we have eyes as well. Balanced, grounded by our remembering, we focus the eyes of our knowing.<br />
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Mato Witko, Crazy Bear, my kids grandfather, became head chief after the Gauche -- He Who Holds the Knife. Crazy Bear was not of the Gens du Gauche. He was a member of the smallest band, the Gens des Jeunes Filles. The Nakoda Nation (Assiniboine) was asked to send representatives to the signing of the 1851 Fort Laramie treaty.<br />
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The treaty signing was to be held in Sioux territory. The Sioux and the Assiniboine were warring tribes. In between Fort Union and the Sioux lands were marauding bands of Blackfeet. Any Assiniboine traveling alone would be killed. No one would go.<br />
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Crazy Bear determined that he would go alone. Soon he was accompanied by warriors who vowed to follow their chief even to certain death.<br />
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They rode to Fort Laramie. Crazy Bear signed the treaty which promised land and goods and services for his people. He and his party returned home in safety.<br />
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Things had not gone well in their absence. The Blackfeet killed Crazy Bear's son. Crazy Bear's wife, in her grief, hung herself. Crazy Bear mourned, but he stayed tethered to this earth and raised his granddaughter, Sweet Grass.<br />
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The government did not keep its promises. No goods came. Crazy Bear's people were hungry and angry.<br />
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Crazy Bear looked forward in hope. He held his people to the promises they had made. When the government goods finally arrived, six months late, the tribe rejoiced and again praised Crazy Bear.<br />
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In two weeks, our family will travel the lands Crazy Bear traveled. My youngest will be with us. As we entrench ourselves in racial memory, we will also create personal memory. We go to ground ourselves in the past and pray for the future.<br />
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Like the chipmunk's stripes, we have paths that lead from where we are now back to where we came from, from the eyes of our knowing to the tail of our remembering.<br />
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In this way, we are a small part of the roundness.<br />
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#MendTheHoop #DokshaStandingRock</div>
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-74635982624284389512016-12-14T21:45:00.001-08:002016-12-14T21:45:04.023-08:00He Who Holds the Knife - Standing Rock EditionThe Assiniboine had a head chief by the name of He Who Holds the Knife. He was also called Left Hand or the Gauche. He Who Holds the Knife held much medicine. He knew when people were going to die. He knew when he was going to die. He was wica wakan, and he led his people in battle. Because he knew the hour of his death, he did not fear going into battle. In battle his only weapon was his medicine drum. When he beat his drum and sang, his people were victorious.<br />
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Edward Denig, the colonial in charge of Fort Union, wrote that the Gauche must have acquired poison from some white man. Denig claimed that the Gauche could predict death because he himself administered the poison - even to himself. In Denig's book Five Tribes of the Upper Missouri, Denig describes Left Hand as an "arrant coward" who sang while his warriors fought. But there was much Denig could not explain away.<br />
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How did He Who Holds the Knife always know exactly where the enemy was camped? How did He Who Holds the Knife survive small pox and so many battles? What about the battle where a great fog rolled in hiding the Assiniboine from the Gros Ventre? The Assiniboine warriors were separated one from another, and when the fog cleared, they found their chief wrestling on the ground with an enemy warrior. In the chief's hand was the Gros Ventre warrior's knife. That is how he came to be known as He Who Holds the Knife.<br />
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"Who lives, who dies, who tells your story." This is a lyric from the musical Hamilton. Nowhere is this more true than for Indigenous Americans. But spirituality is spirituality is spirituality is spirituality is spirituality (ok, that doesn't have the same ring as "love is love is love is love."). God, the creator, the higher power does not bless one people and leave everyone else on their own. Gifts of the spirit are available to all.<br />
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I believe in the power of prayer. I have felt its healing influence in my life. We go to Standing Rock to pray. We join our prayers to those of ten thousand more. We will pray for the earth. We will pray for the water protectors. We will pray for this nation. And selfishly we will pray for ourselves -- to be a little stronger, to be a little more serviceable, to be better citizens of Turtle Island.<br />
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#dokshaStandingRock<br />
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-67166313115973848042016-12-11T22:22:00.002-08:002016-12-13T07:27:08.044-08:00Battle Hymn of the Sea Otter MomSome years ago, I watched a documentary on Netflix. I don't really care for documentaries, and I don't spend a lot of my time in front of the TV anymore. But there I was, watching a documentary on sea otters with my family. The documentary focused on a young female sea otter about to have her first pup.<br />
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She gave birth on a pier amongst some ropes and nets. Volunteers stood guard, keeping tourists and locals a safe distance away from the pair. The documentarians then detailed how the mother taught her pup to wrap herself up in seaweed so as to not float away, how to hit shells on the hulls of boats to break them (the shells) open, and how to find shell fish under the pier. It was interesting to see the mother adapt her training to urbanization.<br />
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Suddenly, in a M. Night Shyamalan turn of events, the mother was gone. The narrator told us she had been killed by an aggressive male otter! The baby sea otter was on her own. The narrator asked, "Did this baby sea otter's mother, in three short months, have enough time to teach her baby what she needs to know in order to survive?"<br />
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The documentary had our full attention as we rooted for this little otter.<br />
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Full disclosure: I cried. I looked at my children and cried. I'd been their mother for much, much, much longer than three months - but have I taught them enough?<br />
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As a young mother I spent too much time teaching them what not to do -<br />
Don't pick your nose<br />
Don't touch that<br />
Don't ask so many questions<br />
Don't do anything risky<br />
Don't expect too much and you won't get disappointed<br />
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Child number four opened my eyes.<br />
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He insisted on taking risks - and his crazy risks were rewarded with success and opportunity. He opened our family up to yes, to dreams, and to hope. By eight he was somersaulting out of the big bowl at the skate park. By seventeen he was off touring Europe with the high school band. Since then, his brother has lived abroad. His sister has toured Europe, I've traveled overseas. And four of my kids took took a crazy trip to New York to see Hamilton on Broadway. My default answer is no longer "no" but "how". This has been a better way to raise my kids.<br />
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My kids are now mostly grown, but I look at them and know that there is so much more I can teach them. I can teach them to serve others, to be aware of the world around them. I can teach them the power of prayer and faith.<br />
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#DoksaStandingRock</div>
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-73429255206339635922016-12-06T22:45:00.000-08:002016-12-06T22:45:19.412-08:00Sam he am - Standing Rock Edition<span style="font-size: x-large;">This is Sam. Sam he am.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That Sam he am, that Sam he am - he grew up quick to be a man.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He's a father now, with his own family tree</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He dances with his kids at the wacipi</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He's got a wife to complete his life, but deep down inside he feels anger and strife.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's worser now that he's a dad cause he wants for his kids better </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">things than he had. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">He wants his boys to have a say, like clean water and air wherever they play. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">He wants them to be able to wear their hair long and not be told their way of thinking is wrong. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sam wants for his boys to inherit an earth that's not worse off than it was at their birth.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">His boys are more than a cartooned mascot. They're worth more </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">than that NFL jersey you bought. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They are worth clean water and promises kept. When he told me this, Sammy wept.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sam used to be a rebel in search of a cause. Now he's a dad. He's Santa Claus.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But he's more than that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It gnaws at his heart to leave others to fight</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">a fight that protects everyone's right</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And so Sam knows</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">its time to stand in the snow</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">with frozen toes</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and make some noise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">#DoksaStandingRock</span></div>
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-22578098228261052442016-12-05T15:51:00.002-08:002016-12-06T07:54:10.677-08:00The Ballad of Doksa and OskateMinot, North Dakota is cold. When my family lived there, we had a block heater installed in our Mazda 323. A block heater is an electric appliance that keeps your engine oil warmish. It comes with a little electrical plug. Every night we pulled our car into the garage and plugged in its heater. One <br />
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morning when the engine turned over, the drive shaft sheared. That's how cold it is in North Dakota. The car was under warranty, but the same thing had happened to so many other vehicles, it took two weeks for our car to get fixed.<br />
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From Minot, we moved to Oswego on the Fort Peck Reservation in North Eastern Montana. We had a house there but no garage. We plugged the car in, put blankets over its hood and got up every four hours to run it.<br />
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One brutal winter, everyone in the house got sick but me. We'd been to the IHS clinic, and strep cultures had been taken. A couple days later, the phone rang and IHS told me that everyone tested positive and needed to come back in for treatment.<br />
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I went out to warm up the car, but apparently the block heater hadn't kept it warm enough. It wouldn't turn over. I made a little fire in a metal bowl and slid the bowl under the oil pan. I waited 5 minutes and tried to start the car. I waited 10 minutes. I waited 15. I waited 20. Finally the car was warm enough to turn, but I'd worn out the battery.<br />
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I went to the neighbor's and asked if she could give us a jump.<br />
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"My husband took our good car to work," she said, "All I've got here is an old Oldsmobile 88. We haven't driven for a couple of months. I don't even know if it has gas." She pointed to a car shaped pile of snow in her yard. "I guess I can try and start it."<br />
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We both laughed pretty hard when it started right up.<br />
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Later we bought that car even though it was a most hideous pink. When she gave me the title, I said,<br />
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"Hey this says the car is gold! Why did you paint it pink?"<br />
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"We didn't. When Mount Saint Helen's erupted, the car got coated in ash and the paint changed!"<br />
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We took a can of spray paint and colored it matte black. The finishing touch was the vanity plate, "Doksa". Doksa means "creator willing". When we drove in that 1978 Oldsmobile 88, we'd get where we wanted to go, Doksa - creator willing.<br />
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Our Mazda 323 got smooshed in an accident and was replaced with a black Chrysler Lebaron with the license plate Oskate. The Lebaron was our pow wow car. Some people call pow wow's "Wacipi" - meaning dance. The older word, "oskate" means celebrate or play.<br />
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Pretty soon we weren't the only ones on the reservation calling our cars by name. Once my sister-in-law was driving Doksa and ran out of gas by the railroad tracks. She walked the rest of the way home. Later a police officer showed up at her door and said, "Hey, somebody's gotta move Doksa."<br />
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I thought of Oskate and Doksa today as the Army Corps of Engineers announced that they would not be granting an easement for the Dakota Access Pipeline.<br />
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The word to describe the Oceti Sakowin camp is "Oskate". Play, water protectors. Celebrate this win.<br />
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The word to describe my family is "Doksa". Creator willing, we will be there soon.<br />
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-18195084390549776352016-12-02T13:00:00.006-08:002016-12-02T13:00:49.993-08:00A little bit racey - Standing Rock EditionTwo anecdotes to start off this blog - just so we're all drawing from the same Runs Through family cannon.<br />
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I was flipping through Netflix looking for a show to watch when I paused on "The Inn of the Sixth Happiness." I'm an old movie buff, and I love Ingrid Bergman.<br />
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"What about this one," I said.<br />
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My youngest replied, "It looks a bit racey." <br />
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"At bit racey, with Ingrid Bergman?" I said, "Never."<br />
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"Look, at the hat she's wearing."<br />
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"Wait a minute." I looked at my tweenager, "What does 'racey' mean to you?"<br />
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I grew up in Montana in a family with seven children. I have a sister who is twelve years older than me. She was away at college and married by the time I was eight. But I have a distinct memory of her living at home. I remember the family sitting around the dinner table (something families did in the 1970's). As my sister talked about her school day, she told a story of her English teacher explaining racism.<br />
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"How many of you would date a black person?" The entire class raised their hands.<br />
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"How many of you would date an Indian?" My sister's hand was the only one in the air.<br />
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I hate to explain a punchline, suffice it to say, racism isn't about the unknown. It's about the perceived known.<br />
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Twenty-five years ago I lived in Minot, North Dakota. I liked it. Minot has a zoo near a wonderful park. I remember pushing my first child in a stroller through that park and through that zoo and loving it. I also have memories of North Dakota being a little bit racey.<br />
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Example 1: My in-laws came to visit. We went to the KFC. Each of us stepped up in line to place our order. The order was then repeated back to me - which I found odd. When my then-husband placed his order, he ordered two Pepsi's (this was back before bottom-less cups). The clerk repeated his order back to me as 1 Pepsi. Hubby repeated 2 Pepsi's, Clerk repeated back to me 1 Pepsi. This cycle continued until I finally said, "He wants two pepsi's. He'll pay for two pepsi's. Can you give him two pepsi's???" As the only white person in the group, was I really just assigned the role of translator/babysitter?<br />
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Example 2: My husband was the Sunday School teacher for a bunch of teenagers. He studied hard each week to give thought-provoking lessons. He would often bring reference books in with him in case anyone had questions deeper than presented in the lessons.<br />
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One day a student said to him, "Why do you bring in so many books. Is it 'cause you're proud you can read?"<br />
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Another followed up with, "Do Indians have to go to a special school to learn how to read?"<br />
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The rest of the class soon followed suit.<br />
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Needless to say, when this event reached the ears of the parents, I received a handful apologetic phone calls (ie. <i>I</i> got the calls, not my husband). Remarkably each mother said virtually the same thing, "I heard what happened in class. I am so sorry your husband had to go through this. My understanding is that my child wasn't involved."<br />
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Example 3 (The punchline): I finished my Bachelor's degree in Minot and was licensed as a teacher. Shortly thereafter I was hired as a substitute teacher. Once I was assigned an English class where they were studying Huckleberry Finn. I walked into the class and observed the students being unkind to one another. The class had segregated itself into townies and air force brats. The most pronounced aggression was toward an air force child who spoke with a southern accent. I caught the class's attention and told them how excited I was to teach Huckleberry Finn.<br />
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"It's one of my all-time favorite books. It deals with themes of humanity and racism."<br />
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"Whoa, stop right there." The class was not having any of that. "Why do we have to learn about racism? There's no racism in North Dakota."<br />
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"Ah, correction," I said, "There are virtually no black people in North Dakota, there's plenty of racism."<br />
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Now, you may think I bring all of this up to point a finger at North Dakota. Not at all. Each of these events was a learning experience, for me and for the others involved. Our eyes were opened to the judgments all around us and how these judgments influence our thinking.</div>
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Once when I was studying the Leonard Peltier case, I came across a wonderful story. The Peltier case was the first high profile case to use jury profiling. The lawyer writing the questions for the jury pool would listen while the lead attorney asked her questions and then she would slip him additional questions as needed. </div>
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The question was, "Have you had any positive interactions with Indian people in this area."</div>
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The potential juror said, "Sure." She proceeded to tell a story of how she grew up on a farm. Once during a blizzard, a Native American family knocked on their door and told them their car had broken down. The juror's father allowed the Native family to spend the evening in the barn."</div>
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The lawyer writing the questions quickly wrote, "If it had been a white family, where would they have stayed?"</div>
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The potential juror was dismissed. But here is the ringer. The question writing attorney was unhappy that the potential juror was dismissed. That conversation had opened the juror's eyes and she was now ready to listen to Leonard Peltier as a human rather than a stereotype.</div>
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None of us are born racist. We develop prejudices through our life experiences and we can just as easily dispel our racist ideologies.</div>
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Right now there is a backlash against political correctness. "PC has gone too far! Why can't Native Americans just see that team mascots honor them? Why do all these crybaby millennials get offended so easily?"</div>
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Political correctness is this century's manners. It is how we help ourselves be aware of those around us. It is how we open our eyes to kindness and humanity.</div>
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At Standing Rock our indigenous brothers and sisters are finding their voice. #invisiblenomore </div>
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Let's pray we are #readytolisten</div>
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-32918059962231510872016-11-30T15:53:00.000-08:002016-11-30T15:53:27.216-08:00Three Little Pigs - Standing Rock Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Once when people lived in lodges, a Native leader wanted to help his people. They were having a hard time. They didn't yet know how to live a good life. The leader looked to the animals that lived in the forest. They lived without wars or hunger or illness. This leader thought that if he could talk to one of the mighty animals of the forest, he (or she) could teach the people how to live a good life.</div>
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Early one morning he set off into the woods alone to find an animal spirit that could guide him. Soon he came across the tracks of a mighty deer. The tracks sunk deep in the forest loam telling the man that this was an old and mighty buck who had survived many harsh winters. As the man tracked the deer he became oblivious to where he was going, and he walked right through a spider web.</div>
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The leader flung his arms and brushed his face to rid himself of the webbing. He said some words in anger. </div>
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"Why are <i>you</i> angry?" asked the Spider. "I am the one with the ruined home."</div>
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The man tried to hide his blunder in a bluff of importance, "I am tracking a Grandfather deer. The people are struggling. They need a spirit animal to show them a good way to live."</div>
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"What about me?" said the spider. "<i>I </i>can show the people a good way to live." The man wanted to laugh, but the spider stopped him. "Look at how I live. I plan. I build. And I wait. and good things come to me."</div>
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I was surprised when I heard this spider story. I was used to farm animals being the heroes in stories. This spider story helped me rethink some of the fairytales I tell my children and reinterpret them to more closely align with their Native values.</div>
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Culture is passed on through stories. It is our stories and our actions that teach our children the values we want them to hold. Through the eyes of culture the same event has many different interpretations.<br />
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Once lightning struck my backyard. That is an event. To make sense of the events of our lives, we spin them into stories.<br />
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Here's a short story from the State of North Dakota.</div>
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"Forty below keeps the riff raff out."</div>
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It seems the state forgot that the Standing Rock Sioux have always been there. The first winter storm hit and instead of running, the Oceti Sakowin camp played. </div>
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There is a Gathering near Standing Rock. That is an event. The stories of Standing Rock will be told for generations to come. The odds are stacked against us, but we are determined to join those at Standing Rock with more than just words and money. We will travel to Standing Rock where we too can stand as stone.</div>
<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-64073173171931624802016-11-29T23:17:00.002-08:002016-11-30T15:05:48.517-08:00Police State - Standing Rock Edition<h2 style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZk_xQCRX45WZCm6p_NsGVNZFuFCf0kIfY9E6qgWqoQRXc360qexwfKU1_yg84gGnwDQEKqwWAm1wWKv1gyHPdy0H5bWd7FxA_5LqCipVYDlCinZwGUy1nOvpkmUSZeMlca0Yb-lxLwl4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-11-29+at+11.49.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZk_xQCRX45WZCm6p_NsGVNZFuFCf0kIfY9E6qgWqoQRXc360qexwfKU1_yg84gGnwDQEKqwWAm1wWKv1gyHPdy0H5bWd7FxA_5LqCipVYDlCinZwGUy1nOvpkmUSZeMlca0Yb-lxLwl4/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-11-29+at+11.49.02+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>I am pro law enforcement.</b></h4>
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I can't help it. I blame it on my job. I work in Dixie State University's Computer Crime Lab where day in and day out I analyze digital devices like phones and computers and write forensic reports for investigators from rural county sheriff's to the FBI; from SLC homicide to the Secret Service. I've done phones for the BIA, the military, the DOJ, the DEA, the SBI, homeland security, airport security... And I love assisting these investigators. I love it so much, that I work overtime. I volunteer my time on holiday's and weekends. When I am told, "Can you rush this? We have a hearing on this on Monday. We'll overnight it to you!" -- and I am examining the phone of a suspect in an officer involved homicide -- how can I say, "Sorry, I have next week off. You'll just need to wing it."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9pfiQzdT7iOuQS4FIJ4KXZch-Jz1SaSFcsTNP2stKpiNmu4chHyh3mfv6xwxzX2f8AdtmQWmZ0UaagKrbqxa8H5wrhvwbDxc_5ebknAFqdMNMAN8ty8FzbDQhLHD0F1C_S7M3jmw4-sQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-11-29+at+11.49.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9pfiQzdT7iOuQS4FIJ4KXZch-Jz1SaSFcsTNP2stKpiNmu4chHyh3mfv6xwxzX2f8AdtmQWmZ0UaagKrbqxa8H5wrhvwbDxc_5ebknAFqdMNMAN8ty8FzbDQhLHD0F1C_S7M3jmw4-sQ/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-11-29+at+11.49.36+PM.png" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9gvw4M1JKHH3gdoRLnkOvEF6MrZU-KjdFp9V5_QG-aM2lhPQCmFlo5vyaDep6OIXv-_2oj_jZziWsiHNsGEWebOQ4O0RDK0s0atWIULq2cUPIOJm-OUum2ESNCOPUfklWxhgkB24EGlg/s1600/10256196_10203918223622621_6042872443199229673_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9gvw4M1JKHH3gdoRLnkOvEF6MrZU-KjdFp9V5_QG-aM2lhPQCmFlo5vyaDep6OIXv-_2oj_jZziWsiHNsGEWebOQ4O0RDK0s0atWIULq2cUPIOJm-OUum2ESNCOPUfklWxhgkB24EGlg/s200/10256196_10203918223622621_6042872443199229673_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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I am also an instructor in DSU's criminal justice department. Like it or not, I think about criminal justice a lot. I think about it when I travel overseas. I meet with law enforcement agents from around the world. We talk and compare.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHLd0wcWBUNRH-bAmYHmqsoz5edsgS7PIrzbduWe2rYOnZN2uBIgfsTw8p0zV735VajwCjoTVQrygPZXPgwjLlqsLiOqNcd0NLSaaA2_2K8bT4Zl06If0s3GUCPD9RVAu5bu5Tef1N68/s1600/10422554_10204313298059235_2825013646118545723_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHLd0wcWBUNRH-bAmYHmqsoz5edsgS7PIrzbduWe2rYOnZN2uBIgfsTw8p0zV735VajwCjoTVQrygPZXPgwjLlqsLiOqNcd0NLSaaA2_2K8bT4Zl06If0s3GUCPD9RVAu5bu5Tef1N68/s200/10422554_10204313298059235_2825013646118545723_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>The United States does not have a national police force. We have jurisdictions over geographical areas and a myriad of different agencies with different missions. Clearly defined jurisdictions and missions work for the most part, except when it doesn't. And it has never worked on reservations.<br />
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Reservations are jurisdictions on crack. Tribal lands are sovereign so state police have no jurisdiction there. Unless an agreement is made, county sheriff offices have no jurisdiction there. Because reservations don't pay state taxes, sheriff offices have little interest or motivation to help.<br />
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To make matters more difficult, reservation jurisdiction isn't about geographical area - it's about people. Tribal and BIA police have jurisdiction over the the members of the reservation's specific tribe. So if a enrolled member of the Turtle Mountain Chippewa is living on the Fort Peck Assiniboine Sioux reservation, the tribal police have no jurisdiction over her. If a white guy and a Sioux guy get into a fight, the tribal courts can only deal with the Sioux guy.<br />
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Remember when Trump said that a hispanic judge with Mexican heritage couldn't be non-biased in his university fraud case? American's still believe Native American law enforcement is inherently biased and therefore cannot be trusted to enforce law to all people in a geographical area. #TrumpsAmerica<br />
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Let me give you an anecdotal example. When I was living on the Fort Peck Reservation, I lived out in the country. It was a housing development with three houses. The middle house was a party house and change occupancy every two to three months. The house on the other side was home to a family. The father was Assiniboine. The mother Turtle Mountain Chippewa. She told me this story.<br />
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"One night in the middle of winter, I came home to find my back door open and my new washer and <br />
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dryer missing. I could clearly see the tracks in the snow where the washer and dryer and been dragged from my house to the neighbor's. I called the tribal police. They came out, but when they found out I'm Chippewa, they told me that they couldn't take my statement. They suggested I call the BIA police. The BIA police came and took my statement, but told me they couldn't do anything about it as I am not enrolled here. They suggested I call the sheriff. I called the sheriff, but they told me they couldn't spare anyone to come out to the reservation."<br />
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The Federal government is aware of this problem. That's why they assign FBI agents over the reservation. Reservations are federal not state. The problem is, FBI agents <br />
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are trained to only take on a select few cases. These cases are generally high profile with a preponderance of evidence already established. Agents therefore are not motivated to work reservation crime. Crime happens, people suffer. The Oceti Sakowin camp has developed a traditional model for grassroots law enforcement.<br />
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The governor or North Dakota recently indicated that the state will no longer be providing services to the Oceti Sakowin camp. This is nothing new to the Standing Rock Sioux, or any other tribe that joins their cause. They've gone without state help all this time, and judging how the State of North Dakota has treated the camp up to this point, they'll be better off without North Dakota's emergency services.<br />
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The Oceti Sakowin camp is on federal land. The dispute over the land is between a federal level sovereign nation and the Army Corps of Engineers, a federal agency. It is unfortunate that Morton County and the State of North Dakota feel it their responsibility to step in. They need to take a cue from the USACE and take a step back.<br />
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-62347880350884352182016-11-28T15:45:00.002-08:002016-11-28T21:34:17.366-08:00Yopp - Standing Rock Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Almost 15 years ago, my kids danced in the Salt Lake City Olympic opening ceremonies. We learned many valuable lessons from that experience. We learned that pioneer dancers get costumes and jackets and tents with kerosene heaters and Native American dancers wear their own regalia ("make sure you wear something warm underneath it") and are given hand warmers to fend off the January SLC weather. We also learned that Natives are tough and hand warmers rock!<br />
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Not only did my kids get to dance to 5 amazing drum groups, they got to dance while Robbie Robertson sang, "Making a Noise".<br />
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The SLC Winter Olympics was the largest gathering of Native Americans I had ever seen - and my kids played a part! It was empowering. My kids made a noise, and I've been encouraging them to do so ever since.</div>
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Right now, Standing Rock is making that noise, and it is louder still.</div>
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Edward S. Curtis called Native Americans, "The Vanishing Race." That was the United States' official policy for a very long time. Native Americans should assimilate and intermarry. By 1950, it was predicted, there would be no full-blood natives left, and the quintessential American would be able to claim a little Native American blood in their veins (most likely from a Cherokee Princess).<br />
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Everybody knows Anglo-Americans make better Indians than Indians anyway. All you have to do is watch a Man Called Horse or Dances with Wolves or Little Big Man to figure that that out.<br />
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Sixty-six years past 1950 and Native Americans are still here. They still exist. They have out lasted 500 years of colonial occupation. Each nation has a culture that shapes how members think and feel. First Nations have a past as long as a squirrels tail and a future as wide as the Milky Way.<br />
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My native kids interact with people who don't either don't believe indigenous people still exist, or who think Native Peoples should conform to given stereotypes.<br />
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Once when we were doing a cultural exchange at an elementary school, a student looked at my son dressed in his Native regalia and said, "Are you a real Indian?" My son replied, "Yes". The student then said, "No you're not. I can see your visitor's pass!"<br />
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Just as my children can be both Native and visitors, First Nation people can maintain both a rich heritage and promising future. Recently we participated at a Stand for Standing Rock Rally in Salt Lake City where my son Mason, AKA Wounded Knee, was asked to perform. On the fly the rest of the kids were asked to sing a traditional drum song. They sang Baha Sapa and dedicated it to Standing Rock.<br />
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When it was Wounded Knee's turn to perform, an Anglo-American approached my son Joseph and asked him to join her drum circle, playing near the street. When he politely declined, indicating he'd come to listen to Wounded Knee, she informed him that Wounded Knee's style of Native Rock was not really cultural -- inferring that her drum circle was?<br />
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Native Americans have been defined and pidgeon-holed. Native history has been construed and rewritten by oppressive forces. It is time for Indigenous people to make a noise. It is time for them to be seen. And this Christmas we will be adding our Yopp to Standing Rock.<br />
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<br />Joni_rthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17765236998115894220noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5922196299871688841.post-72775575860741170892016-11-26T08:08:00.001-08:002016-11-26T08:08:10.981-08:00Iktomi and the Buzzards - Standing Rock Edition<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My children amaze me. Not just because of the people they've become, but also because of the people they have always been.<br />
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Our family moved to St. George in 1994. Prior to that we lived in HUD housing on the Fort Peck Reservation. When my oldest boy was around four or five, he came into my bedroom in the middle of the night to tell me that an eagle had been pecking at his window. He said the eagle came in through his screen and turned into a "maiden". I asked him what a "maiden" was and he described an older, heavy set woman. The "maiden" spoke to him in a language he didn't understand.<br />
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When a child wakes you up in the middle of the night to tell you this - and that child is concerned but not scared, you know that that child is spiritual in nature.<br />
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This same child (now a man) is dreaming again. He wakes up in the middle of the night to the sounds of people crying. He says he feels a call to go to Standing Rock. It is a call that causes an aching in his heart. I can see the same in my other children. Their hearts are broken, and their eyes are longing. We worry about our jobs and school and the millions of threads that tether us to our lives. We are pitiful beings, but we can give our pitiful offering of prayer, service, and time.<br />
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Six years ago I learned an important lesson about taking a leap of faith. Since that time, I have been working on strengthening my faith. I've been concerned because I used to have dreams and very solid answers to prayer. There have even lately been times when I have wondered why the Lord has abandoned me. As the family discussed our travel plans over the Thanksgiving holiday, the idea was brought forward that we all need a solid answer to our prayers before we trek halfway across the plains to the icy tundra.<br />
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I prayed. I'd been praying. But as I prayed that night for a solid answer, I was reminded that a solid answer is not a leap of faith. And I knew then that the Lord has not abandoned me or my family. We are strengthening our faith.<br />
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I am sharing another story today from Judea's screenplay. The animation above will make much more sense once you read the story. The story reminds us not to put our heads in dark places. And if we find our heads in places where the sun don't shine (whether ours or someone else's) we need to pull our heads out - even if it costs us our feathers.<br />
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