DeShay Greywater sat on the ground, lost in the ancient times of her ancestors. Today was going to be adventurous. Students from the Oglala Lakota College were coming to the dig site. She had fond memories of attending Oglala. Oglala Lakota College. Woksape Tipi: House of Wisdom.” The words would forever be etched in her mind. She had learned a lot about her ancestors.
Now, she was an archaeologist, a member of the South Dakota Historical Society.
As thoughts swarmed through her mind, the sound of a vehicle coming down the dusty road drew her attention.
Her dig today would be at Chimney Butte, near the White River, close to Badlands National Park. In the distance, the multitude of colors sprinkled across the landscape gave an array of sacredness. Mauve, browns, reds, and oranges brought the Badlands to life.
Mountains popped up across the horizon giving the site radiance.
DeShay stood as Jacob Little Fire, Senior Professor of Native American Studies, approached, followed by his students. “Good morning Professor Little Fire. I’m glad you are here. I want to let your students know, if you love the outdoors, this is the job for you.”
DeShay paused as the professor glanced over the dig, nodding in obvious approval.
“I have set up some different grids so you will get the chance to get some hands on.” She turned and pointed. “You can see Chimney Butte and the edge of Badlands National Park from our viewpoint. A breathtaking sight, isn’t it? Before we get started does anybody have any questions?”
A young man raised his hand. “I do! What kind of tools do you use, and what kind of artifacts have you found?”
“Well, we have many tools. The most sophisticated is the GPS, but we also use topographic maps of the survey area, along with compasses and large measuring tapes. The most common excavating tools are the shovel and mason’s trowel.” She lifted each item as she explained. “If the site is delicate, some of the tools used would be the wooden picks, spoons, and brushes.” She held them up for the students to observe.
DeShay turned and picked up some forms. “The other half of excavation is record keeping. This is very important. We keep track of what is found in each level of earth and use screens to sift through the soil.” She handed the forms around for each student to examine.
DeShay picked up her water and took a sip. “The artifacts I have found during my time as an archaeologist include arrowheads, animal bones, and pottery, just to name a few. I have uncovered fire hearths and earth lodges. Currently, I am looking for ancient items in the area of Eagle Nest Butte.”
DeShay remained focused on the young adults and their reactions. She wanted to leave an impression on them no matter what they wanted in life, they could achieve their dreams if they kept focused and let nothing stop them.
As the students followed DeShay, she instructed them to pick excavation grids, allowing four students per grid.
DeShay worked hard at being a good teacher. She went to every group, got down on her hands and knees, and showed the students how she did her work.
“The most important thing to remember is to make sure you have a skilled person working on the site. They will trim and scrape—they do not dig—the soil from the site with virtually no damage to any of the artifacts or features. One must be careful to preserve history. Although we call this area a ‘dig,’ we do not dig.”
When DeShay was satisfied all the students were following her instructions, she approached Professor Little Fire.
He nodded and smiled. “I’m so proud of you, DeShay. I watched you out in the field, and I could see your dedication to your work and your students. I knew from your days in college you would be wonderful at this. My thoughts have held true. You have made your people proud.”
DeShay felt proud and humbled by his praise. “Thank you, Professor. Your remarks mean a lot to me.” A student called for her, and she hurried to help the young man with his question.
***
The day ended too soon to suit DeShay. The students from the Oglala Lakota College vowed to work hard and become one with Mother Earth.
Professor Little Fire expressed amazement at the knowledge DeShay offered them. He went on to say, “Thank you for allowing us here today. I, as all my students, have enjoyed it. You are a wonderful teacher.”
DeShay felt proud. Professor Little Fire, an elder, approved of her teachings. Having him announce his appreciation of her work for all to hear was an honor.
“Professor Little Fire, thank you for coming. If you don’t mind I have one last thing to say.”
He nodded.
She focused on the students. “Our ancestors, of long ago, left no words for our eyes to see. All we have are the messages they have left for us upon Mother Earth. We, as archaeologists, have a duty to study and understand the messages, to learn how they lived, who they were, and what happened to them so long ago. They are speaking, but before we can learn about them, we must listen. So, I am proud to say I am an archaeologist.”
The students clapped and thanked her as they filed past to say good-bye.
The young people stepped onto the bus, one after the other, speaking among themselves of the day they’d just experienced. It became a time of taking note of the future. DeShay wanted them to take note of the past. She also wanted some of them to become archaeologists, connected with Mother Earth. She prayed she had touched at least one student.
As the bus left the area, DeShay Greywater turned, with tears in her eyes, to face Chimney Butte and the Badlands National Park. She, along with the students, had unearthed some pottery. She closed her eyes and gave thanks to all the ancestors who lived and walked before her.
As her thoughts shifted to the open land and the towering mountains, she noticed her ancestors presence, walking every step, she had walked on this day. Her pulse raced at the knowledge her people’s past was buried in Mother Earth, waiting for her to uncover it and make it known.
As she stared off into the distance, Chimney Butte etched in her mind, a place of her people of today and long ago. A sacred place to her people, one she would return to soon.