It was 1979 when my mother decided to leave the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota. My mom had just traded her 1964 Ford Mustang to my Uncle Bob for two Amtrak train tickets to Los Angeles. I remember that Ford so well, it had a rust hole on the passenger side floor. As my mom […]
You deserve Indigenous journalism that answers to you — independent, nonprofit, and always free to read. Your support keeps it that way.
Donate Today →
From drum groups to dances, stay connected to powwow communities nationwide with ICT’s seasonal newsletter and monthly on-the-ground reporting.
COMING SOON
