SURVIVAL OF THE SACRED

Controversy Simmers Over Whether Non-Indians Can Understand and
Respect Native Spirituality

When news spread that Arvol Looking Horse would be visiting Utah,
many who practice American Indian spirituality were thrilled.

Some also felt a chill.

Looking Horse, after all, has come to represent the growing sentiment
among many American Indians that non-Indians do not belong in the
center of sacred ceremonial practice.

A Lakota spiritual leader, Looking Horse - with the support of dozens
of Lakota, Dakota, Nakota, Cheyenne and Arapaho leaders - issued a
proclamation in 2003 calling for an end to exploitation of ceremonies.

Non-Indians, he says, are welcome to join Indians in prayer and on
the periphery, but they should not lead the most sacred ceremonies,
such as the Sundance and Vision Quest.

Not only do Indians with little appreciation of tradition pervert and
sell ceremonies and their tools, he argues, but also non-Indians
dabble in something they do not fully understand.

Drawn by native spirituality's understanding of nature, plants and
animals - and often packing their own New Age notions - scores of
non-Indians have been attracted to native spirituality.

"A lot of people are doing things, and they've only got a shadow,"
says Lacee Harris, a social worker from Salt Lake City. Harris is a
Northern Ute-Northern Paiute.

When Looking Horse was invited to Utah from South Dakota for various
appearances along the Wasatch Front last week, audiences expected to
hear him expound on the issue.

He didn't.

But that doesn't mean Looking Horse, averse to conflict, has backed
away from his insistence that Indians reclaim their faith. Indeed, he
believes the future of the human race hinges, in part, on the
ceremonial practices.

"There is a lot about our [way of] life that is essential to the
survival of the two-leggeds," he said in an interview.

Those who take part in ceremonies for their own gratification do not
realize there are ramifications for others, he says.

"They begin a slow killing of the medicine," he says.

"They don't realize they destroy the creator by doing this," adds his
wife, Paula Horne Mullen.

Time to 'pick up the pipe': Ogden resident Robin Naneix is one of
those struggling to understand where that leaves her.

Reared in Georgia, Naneix was taught Indian ways - such as talking to
plants and looking for signs in nature - by her grandmother, whose
own mother was Cherokee but who never called her ways "Indian."

For a number of reasons, the family did not end up on the tribal
roles. Naneix is fair-skinned, with dark blond hair.

After trying on Christianity and looking into Buddhism, Naneix turned
to Indian ways eight years ago. She studied and gradually learned the
complexities of native spirituality, careful to respect traditions.

Like many who began practicing Indian spirituality as adults, Naneix
adopted Lakota ways because the Lakota Sioux generously have shared
their traditions with strangers for the past century.

Through the years, Naneix believes she has been confirmed in her path.

She regularly finds eagle feathers as she spends time outdoors, a
gift of the creator, she says. Dreams and visions told her three
years ago that it was time to "pick up the pipe," a significant step
in a spiritual journey.

In December, she decided that next summer, she will do the Sundance -
four days of nearly nonstop dancing with no food or water.

"In that sacred circle, you are one on one with creator," Naneix says.

Looking Horse, she says, is a "very wise and spiritual man."

But, "at the end of the day, he is a man. . . [who is] telling us we
can't be with the creator."

"For me and my friends, it feels like it's because of our color,"
Naneix says. "We say that sounds racist."

In her mind, taking part in sacred ceremonies should depend on one's
heart and preparation, not heritage.

"It comes down to: Are you being mindful and acting out of your heart?"

Rights & rites: Forrest Cuch, executive director of the Utah Division
of Indian Affairs, notes another dimension to the controversy: legality.

"It is the only ethnic minority that has a political relationship
with the U.S. Congress that came about as a result of war," he says.
"The treaties were made with the American Indian people, not with
other people."

Certain rights belong only to members of federally recognized Indian
tribes, such as the right to possess eagle feathers, which represent
knowledge and are vital in many native ceremonies. Another is the
right to use peyote, a hallucinogen derived from cactus.

Federal law requires one be a member of the Native American Church of
North America as well as a member of a federally recognized Indian
tribe to use peyote.

Utah law, however, had a loophole allowing peyote use by non-Indians.
The Legislature this session passed HB60 to make state law conform to
federal law and it's awaiting the signature of Gov. Jon Huntsman Jr.

Cuch and leaders of Utah's Indian tribes praise the measure as a step
in remedying exploitation of native practices.

"A controlled substance has to be regulated," Cuch says, "otherwise
it will be abused."

Like Looking Horse, Cuch laments the disrespect shown to native
spirituality as it becomes popular among non-Indians.

"Far too many of them think that because they participate in a few
ceremonies, they can become shamans and medicine people."

But Cuch's views on non-Indian participation in sacred ceremonies
shows there is a wide divergence among Indian leaders.

"They [non-Indians] need to devote 15 or 20 years working as an
apprentice. When they achieve that, Indian people will recognize and
support them."

Harris agrees it's not impossible for a non-Indian to develop enough
spiritually to be in the center of ceremonies.

"It is possible if they want to put in the time."

Eleanor Iron Lightning, a Lakota who lives in Salt Lake City and
invited Looking Horse, says "only a drop" of Indian blood is
necessary for one to be on a path toward full participation in Indian
ceremonies.

Looking Horse acknowledges he does not have the authority to enforce
his view. That call is up to each community's spiritual leader in
each situation.

But, he and his wife say, the creator, through prophecies and
revelation, has given particular ceremonies to particular native
people for a reason.

"I wouldn't want to start making ceremonial sand painting because I
had a dream I was a Hopi," Horne Mullen says. "As a Lakota, I have to
respect that."

She recognizes that many who have joined native circles are "really
good people."

"We're trying to help them understand the delicate nature of the
situation. We say 'share prayer, but keep in place the boundaries of
respect for who we are.' "