“Come. Come show me who YOU are” She was perched at the corner table of celebrity row. It was happy hour in Carmel, no telling who to expect in a place like this. Wine maker? Actor? Random Billionaire? Clint Eastwood, Alan Silvestri, or Doris Day might just be seated near their own cartooned image painted above the bar.
This woman was different, her colors lit up the creamy homogenized room. Rare to see such brown skin, seasoned so deeply, in this part of town. Yards of raven black hair surrounded her. Neatly braided into a fat rope, the ends were tucked beneath her thigh. My shoulders shrugged uncertainly. With an anxious grin, I gestured towards my heart and mouthed “Hi?” Heavy lashed, thickly lined eyes sparkled back at me like some kind of otherworldly opals. I could tell she was one of those ageless women that can only grow more luminous with each passing year. A chime of hammered silver jingled as her arms, dripping with turquoise, waived me over “Yes, You. Come here”.
“Let me look at you, Strong Eagle.”
Her hands laced together slowly, pausing as every fingertip gently pressed it’s mate. Each pair of long nails formed an arrow pointing skyward just before hugging it’s chubby knuckle. Her smile achieved full wattage. “You are such a beautiful Strong Eagle, I recognized {you} right away!”
“Welcome to the Valley, my dear, Welcome to the Sur”.
We were in the Rio Grill (aka. Rodeo Kitchen 😉 meeting for the first time. Hawk Dove is a native Ohlone horse woman and so much more. Carmel Crossroads was built on her family’s Rancheria. They literally paved paradise and put up a parking lot. She was a regular at the restaurant, I was a new manager. A lesson in humility at it’s core; “The medicine of the land does not go away, it only looks different now”.
“Where are you from? Where is your jewelry, your armor, dear girl”?
The white folx were sometimes handed a bright blue, hand stamped business card. Those weren’t for me, “When you need me you will find me. Ask with your heart”. And so it was. Years of Hawk Dove answering in person. She’d arrive at the mouth of the valley to greet me, as if I had etched a telegraph over Chew’s Ridge directly onto her skin. “It’s like we have our own celestial passenger pigeons” I’d say, still not realizing the truth in my words.
It can be said now that I was building my armor. I was finding my protections through all the things that have caused me harm. When Hawk Dove called me by such a stoic name, it seemed contrite. Pretentious, even for the granddaughter of a Sioux Water Pourer. Too Soon. I back pedaled, “What about ‘Eagle Beaver?” It felt like a more lighthearted way to ease into my identity. Wabun, the Beaver is keeper of the East. It sounded quirky. It felt like a good fit.
“Call yourself whomever you like; Everyone who sees will know you are Strong Eagle”.
Yesterday a friend told me my magic could not be contained. She said that I’m meant to be out here sharing my gifts. That it would be selfish to keep me in one place when others need my light. I’m one of the affecters, The magnetic forces that change people with just one encounter. Thank you, friend. I’m honored. Just as I was when Hawk Dove bestowed my name.
Today I learned there is a strong connection between the place I have been planted, HSV, and my Nantakota heritage. I knew my tribe traveled the Cumberland Gap before heading to the eastern shore. We are the shorter, darker, harrier, more muscular Sioux. We headed to the beach from the Badlands. Now What?
Today is Saturday August 28, 2021. Today I claim my name. I am Strong Eagle and I have work to do.
rodeokitchen 
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