Part II with Joe Saenz And Delia DeVer of the Chiricahua Apache Nation

The Equity Hour, part of the Kindred Continuum series on Gila Mindres Community Radio, features Joe Simes and Delia DeVert discussing storytelling in the Chiricahua Apache tradition. Stories were crucial in teaching values, relationships, and environmental awareness. Listening was emphasized over speaking, with oral traditions valued over written records. The importance of hands-on learning and communal storytelling circles was highlighted, emphasizing the human connection and attention needed to pass on cultural knowledge. The following program is pre-recorded. The views expressed on this program do not reflect the views of Gila Mindres Community Radio and belong solely to the program hosts and guests. You are listening to Gila Mindres Community Radio, KURU 89.1 FM in Silver City, New Mexico, and online at KURU891.org. You are listening to The Equity Hour, where the political, personal, and monthly show. The Equity Hour is part of the Kindred Continuum series and airs on the first Monday of the month at 10 a.m. and is replayed on the air the following Sunday at 4 p.m. I'm your co-host, Cindy Renee Provencio. And I'm your co-host, Kit West. Today we have with us again, for part two, Joe Simes and Delia DeVert of the Chiricahua Apache Nation. Welcome back. Yeah, it's so good to have you all back. Thank you. It's great to be back. It's wonderful. So, we are going to play around with storytelling today. So, first of all, I was wondering if Joe and Delia could tell us a little bit about the place of storytelling in the Chiricahua Apache tradition to get us started. You know, when we start talking about stories and how these stories are passed on, shared, I'm immediately taken back with the memories that I grew up to sort of appreciate. Some of my earliest memories are on my dad's back. I remember pine trees, things like that, I grew up with my mom. I remember when we would go to some of these small villages that really at those times didn't have any lights, no outside lights, no security lights, no street lights. And you would sit by the fire, in the kitchen by the fire, with the lamp on, and you'd fall asleep. You know, I'm talking about I'm three, four, five years old. And I'd fall asleep listening to people talk and telling stories about predominantly the environment and family. Those were the two main topics that seemed to come up all the time. And it sort of showed me the care, showed me the interest, showed me the love that these people carried with them when they would share these stories with the little kids, which I was one of them at that time. And so we were constantly, constantly taught to listen, not talk a lot, you know, it was rather considered rude if you were a loud, obnoxious, continuous talker. Not that that's bad, I know some people are like that, but as a young person in that environment, in that culture, we were taught to keep our mouth shut and listen. That whatever our elders had to say, it was important. But I think, you know, that that was the traditional sense of how you understood and absorbed what people were telling you and the meaning and the importance of it. You know, in my family, especially with my parents and uncles, you don't hear much about the school. School wasn't really a big part of our life. There were schools around, but it didn't seem like that was the most important part of life was to be at school. And so it was very important for the families to be able to teach the kids, but in those days, the learning, the teaching was not, I don't know if I want to say Americanized or industrialized, but the teachings were about behavior. The teachings were about interaction with each other. And so those kind of stories are the kind of that I carry and I often try to, you know, share with other people in that vein of intention, not just to pass the time, but you're actually trying to teach something about the environment. You're trying to teach something about values, about family relationships. And when they're coming to you from a person, that really means it. Not that teachers know it. They don't, but with families, they're not getting paid. You know, there's no monetary value in the passing of this information. It was all, and I don't want to say survival, but it was because culturally we weren't just surviving. We were thriving. We were expanding and growing spiritually, mentally, and so those instructions, those stories that help us form our inner person that way were, you know, I came to appreciate and understand how important they were. So I remember more about what I heard from my family than I do from going to school. We were kind of pushed into going to school. My dad was, well, you have to also learn about that. You can't just be at home and learning about what we teach you. Education in America is important, and you have to be part of that. And so in going to those environments of those school environments, it was rather traumatic and shocking, you know, the way that information was passed on as opposed to how we were receiving it at home. And it made me understand even more the value of listening to elders talk. And even though now and even in my age, anybody that is willing to sit and tell a story about life, about the environment, about people, about love, relationships, it's always good. And so that's how we come to understand the value of passing it on. But it's just not stories. One of the things that was valuable for me was that it was tools, when they would talk to you and tell you things, constantly listening, constantly listening. And it's a stark difference from now as an adult and that I'm working in what I work and I deal with people. When you start working with people, they want to know everything right then and there, and that's understandable, and I guess that has its place too. But I grew up in a time when you stood there and watched. People didn't tell you. They didn't turn around and tell you, well, you do this next and you do that next. They didn't do that. Everybody around me, grandparents, uncles, aunts, parents, family, everybody, you were sort of expected to be there. And sort of the joke of I'm here is that we were expected to be there and watch it and listen and watch it over and over and over, and that's how we learned. We didn't get manuals. We didn't get those kind of things. It was sit and listen. Open your eyes, shut your mouth, and listen. Someday you'll be able to talk. But for now, as who you are and what you are, you listen. So it's interesting to see the changes in how somebody absorbs stories. And I've often had people tell me, well, why don't you write it down? But that's not how it was taught to me. I didn't have to read it. These are stories that were given to me that I said and heard people tell me straight. And so the value of oral traditions is what we're talking about, and so to me it's to tell me, hey, why don't you write this down because these are stories that you know and we don't know them. It's almost like telling me with the work that I do with horses in the wilderness. It's almost like, hey, why don't you just get on a motorcycle and ride? That's how it hits me when I hear people say, why don't you write it down? Well, that's not how I learned it. And at the same time, I understand the value of talking. And so it propels, it maintains, it advocates for me to continue that life way of let's tell stories. How do we learn? Okay, well, let's talk about it. And are younger people learning from you, may I ask? Whenever I've had the opportunity to share that type of learning, that's what I tell people. If you're going to work with me, if you're going to do the things that I do and you're interested in learning them, or even when I've been in school, look at what I'm doing. I'm doing the best thing that I can to show you how this process goes. There was a time when I taught school, and so most of my classes, I was a science teacher, but most of my classes out of the five days out of the week, four days were labs, one day was basically administration. And go through the book if you needed anything, but four days would be labs. So it was constantly hands-on all the time. We didn't do very well sitting and watching. You know, the idea of sitting in front of people and talking to, it's always been more comfortable sitting in a circle, you know, with people around you, people next to you, rather than sitting in front of people. So that's the same projection of energy that you get when you're telling stories. You pass that energy on to each other instead of sitting in front and performing. It's an energy that carries that instruction with you. And so that's one of the reasons why it was more preferable to sit in circles, traditionally, culturally. There was an energy that went around. And so when you told a story, you were closer to that person, or the person that's next to that person, you fed off each other. Those were happy memories to be able to share those stories and being told that are good stories. We heard them all. We heard some tragic stories. We heard good stories. We heard creation stories. So I just hope I don't forget them. That's why I asked if anybody was listening who's younger than you are. Yeah. I hope they are because, hopefully, it's about finding their value for it. It's kind of the difference between talking to someone on the telephone and talking to someone in person. If you've ever had to learn a foreign language, it's really hard when you're first learning to talk to someone on the telephone because you can't see their face. You can't feel their energy. You can't have a relationship with them. It's just a piece of plastic. But with someone there, it's just immediately much easier. There's something that's happening back and forth. It's sort of a human thing. That's what it reminds me of. Like the magic. Like magic. I think it really helps to develop people's attention too. You have to really stay with what's being said. Of course, we live in a time with so many different distractions that there's just really no way around it but really giving the stories your full attention and listening and taking it in multiple times. They were the cultural schools, the stories. They were told over and over every year, every winter. In any situation when the elders or the parents or the supervisors or the hosts because in Apache culture, the young kids, there was always somebody that was responsible for them. Uncles were a primary one that were responsible for their nephews and kids and those were how the family helped each other that way. But those opportunities were always there to talk and especially when it was set up that way. You weren't just running around or going to school or just running to these practices or going to these other events. You always had the contact with that individual. It was important for that individual to also be able to train the young kid, the young child with the proper stories, with the proper tone, the proper intention so those things continued to be passed on. Like I said, it wasn't just the performance of the story. There were tools that were intrinsic in the story. That's an education. Yeah. And especially to retell the stories. If you were of that nature that eventually you would be one of those individuals that were able to tell stories, that's how you learned them so well is you heard them over and over and over. And it wasn't about embellishing. It wasn't about changing. It was part of that continuum of that tradition. It wasn't looked upon very favorably if you started changing and augmenting and lying about things like that. Culturally, truth was very important. So it was always a paramount expectation that what came out of your mouth was going to be the truth and was going to be told exactly the same. You can't change your experience. You are listening to Hilo Mimbres Community Radio, KURU 89.1 FM in Silver City, New Mexico, and online at KURU891.org. You are listening to the Equity Hour. We're the politicals, personal, and we are interviewing Joe Sainz and Delia DeVere for Part 2. They are with the Chiricahua Apache Nation. And we're talking about stories. I just wanted to ask, Joe, this is Delia, but with your youth program, the Horse Holders, do you share stories within that program to the youth? Yeah, this program is called the Teeco Hay Horse Holders Project, and that's a big part of it is to try to find the time and relationship to be able to tell the story. Sometimes it's real difficult, and one of the reasons why it's a lot easier just to be quiet sometimes is especially under those conditions is you could be gabbing all day long and they would never hear anything because they're so involved in riding the horse and taking care of this, taking care of that. And so you have to be real selective of when you talk to somebody to make sure that if you are passing on some important information that they fully get it. So I have to be real careful in how I do my stories or how I pass on instruction. Instruction as far as with the horses, with the tack, with the gear, it has to be very selective because it is important. It is important, and this is what you learned from your uncles. Always tell the truth and make sure that you represent what you can as factually as you can. People's lives depend on it. That was one of our cultural importances is telling the truth is people's lives depended on it. That's a good truth. I like that. I like that. Do you want to? Yeah. With today I'm thinking about one of the stories that we often like to tell is the story of the moccasin game. The moccasin game is a story of how the relationship with animals and people in the world happened and why we see the animals as four-legged, two-legged, and one-legged and how our medicine people helped us be the way that we are nowadays. In the very beginning all animals, all people, all plants wanted to live in the daylight, and we believe that over time it became too crowded. There was no space. Everybody was out. Everybody was doing everything, enjoying the sun, using water, breathing the air, utilizing plants, and it became very crowded. Through the stories of the medicine people, they decided through visions that things had to change. Things had to be different, and the medicine people decided that they would gather everybody and instruct them that a decision had to be made of how to live on this world. So everybody had a place. Everybody had ample resources. Everybody had space. So this medicine man proceeded to get everybody together, and what they decided was that in order to do this, to decide who was going to live because nobody wanted to live at night. Everybody wanted to be up during the day, and so through negotiations and talking, they decided that the two-legged and the four-legged would play a game to decide who would win the daylight. They decided to call it the moccasin game. The moccasin game is a game that you play between two rivals that sit apart from each other, and traditionally it was a game of betting. It was a game of reasoning. It was a game of imagination, and it was a game of guessing. So each side would sit across from each other, and they would have moccasins behind them. In those moccasins, they would hide items, a number of items, individual combinations. The other side would try to guess what they had in those moccasins, and so they would sing. They would take turns singing, and the side that had the moccasins would sing, and the other side would confer with each other to decide. And this game started, and immediately it seemed like the four-legged, because the four-legged are powerful animals, instinctual. They smell, they see, they hear. Powerful, much more powerful than we are, sometimes even more powerful than the two-legged, which were part of the birds, animals that stand on two legs. But these four-legged, powerful animals, and they immediately started to win. They started to gain points, and this went on back and forth for a whole day, taking turns. Finally, the humans, the two-legged, decided, the birds, some of the small animals, people decided that they did not want to lose this game. They couldn't live at night. It would be too difficult for them. So they decided, as sometimes humans are, we can cheat. And we have to be careful with that, but we can cheat. And so we decided, the two-legged, that we would cheat about this because it was too important for us to lose. So the two-legged sent Brown Squirrel, sent him underground, telling Brown Squirrel, go underground, dig a hole, get in behind him, look at what they have, come back and tell us. Squirrel went under, dug all the way under, got up behind him, looked exactly where they had their moccasins, what they had inside of them, and he came back, told the two-legged. Two-legged started being able to gain some points, but they needed more, so they sent Hummingbird. They said, Hummingbird, you're fast. Sometimes we don't even see you. Go over there. With the music, it will drown your sound out. Go and look. Hummingbird flies over there and just roams around all over the space behind them, comes back and tells the humans that's what they have, that this moccasin has this bone in it, this moccasin has a stone in it. The humans were able to gain points, and finally they were able to pass them. Through this time, they decided, yes, yes, we're going to be able to win it. Through this process of cheating and working together, they were able to amass the points and win. That's why we believe the two-legged are the animals that live during the day, including the one-legged. That's when they do their best. The two-legged live during the day, and that's why the four-legged live during the crepuscular time. Nighttime, they move around. That was their what they want and do within the moccasin game. That's where they are now. Do you want me to take a station break? Okay. I don't know. It doesn't sound like I like to be a cheater. I'm thinking strategic. What are the lessons and tools of this story? That's why we have to say we have to be careful with it. It's not even necessarily about cheating. It's about developing an advantage, developing a knowledge of what those animals are and how they are. Fortunately for us, nowadays, that's what happens. We've been able to, as humans, take that a step further, where now we kill animals for fun, for trophies, things like that. That's part of why we need to be careful because that dominance didn't stop. It kept going. It got greedy. I was just thinking even our desire to keep going at night. We have all this technology for the humans to keep going all night long, too, before it gets turned on. If you fly in from Latin America into the United States, it's dark, dark, dark, dark, and then you hit the border of the United States and it just lights up. I never knew that. I'm like, whoa, where are we? That's my favorite part, hummingbird and the ground squirrel. That's where we're greedy. That's part of our greediness. One of the things I think, I don't know if I mentioned it here last time, but one of the reasons why Apaches didn't travel at night was because of the rattlesnake. The rattlesnake was one of those animals that was part of the animals and ended up living at night. That's their realm. We're not supposed to be running around at night. I don't know if I want to repeat myself from last time, but two things that were basically universal in most native cultures in pre-Columbian times was you didn't fight in the winter and you didn't fight at night. That was just something the tribes did not do. You never heard of any tribe strategically fighting another tribe that way. They could do it in the morning, early in the morning, but never night because of the cultural premise of that was not our time. That was somebody else's time. But once the military found that out, they started attacking us at night and they started attacking us in the wintertime. That proved to be a real big disadvantage for us because we weren't culturally tough to deal with. We adapted to it rather quick, but it took us a while. I know they started with some tribes that immediately they subdued the tribe really quick just by attacking them during those times. So, yeah, life or death. So you learned. Yeah. And, you know, didn't carry flashlights. Fortunes, you could burn yourself at night. It was just no fun to do that. So once it got dark, we were in camp. Yeah. It was the same way I lived in Guatemala. I lived outside of this indigenous village and people were always saying, you live alone in the forest, aren't you afraid? I said, no, no one goes out at night. They're terrified to go out at night. So maybe it's, you know, like you say, it's... It's a monster movie. No, it wasn't that. It was tradition, like you say. No, but I mean as far as why you fear the night. Just our stories in America have been fear the night. Yeah, but it was always Americans or Europeans who were saying, what are you doing? It's like, I'm not afraid. I mean, nobody comes out at night. Haven't you noticed? I didn't even know it. You know, you went home at dusk. How was it? Yeah, the famous one for us growing up, you know, if we left the house and we were gone all day, it was the proverbial being before dark. Mm-hmm. And that's where that started. Really? Yeah. Although I had the same thing way back in... Yeah. Way back because we were running around like crazy at home. If you went home by dark. The witching. Yep. You got to whip in. Yeah. I think any experiences of camping and, you know, where you tend to get more in the rhythm of day and night and, you know, going to bed maybe a lot earlier than one normally would. Mm-hmm. But it's really noticeable to see how well-rested we are as human beings to just kind of turn off with the sun. You know, we watch TV and do all this stuff too. But I'm sure many people here listening, there's a lot of nature and people and campers around that completely relate to that. And it's pretty easy to get into that rhythm, you know, even if one's usually working a lot at night. Really nice. I think, you know, we tend to feel guilty if we're not highly productive, you know, with all the nighttime hours and stuff. Well, it helps if you don't have electricity. I didn't have electricity for a long time, like 10 years or something. Yeah. So, you know, I would read a little bit by candlelight. But mostly I sat out on my porch and, you know, watched the night come. I yearn for that. So if I need to go out and... You are listening to HILA Members Community Radio, KURU 89.1 FM in Silver City, New Mexico, and online at KURU891.org. You are listening to the Equity Hour, where the political is personal. And we are interviewing Joe Saenz-Andelia DeVere of the Chiricahua Apache Nation. So, Julia, did you have something you wanted? We're going to switch over to you for a little bit. Is this a good time? Okay. So I'm kind of bringing a 180-degree pivot to the beautiful story that Joe just shared. I chose this. It's pretty intense, a little bit of a trigger warning. But I chose this, you know, we're really trying to educate our community and beyond as to why a lot of the Chiricahua culture is missing from our region and the traditional territory that we live within. So through lots of different activities that we're involved in, through classes and through art and programs like this, we're trying to build that so that people understand. So I'm going to read President Andrew Jackson's speech to Congress on Indian removal. This speech is from December 6, 1830, and it applies to all, you know, tribes in the nation. So I'll be speaking, you know, through his voice, I guess you could say. You can do it. I know it's going to be hard. It gives me pleasure to announce to Congress that the benevolent policy of the government steadily pursued for nearly 30 years in relation to the removal of the Indians beyond the white settlement is approaching to a happy consummation. Two important tribes have accepted the provision made for their removal at the last session of Congress and it's believed that their example will induce the remaining tribes also to seek the same obvious advantages. The consequences of a speedy removal will be important to the United States, to the individual states, and to the Indians themselves. The pecuniary advantages which it promises to the government are the least of its recommendations. It puts an end to all possible danger of collision between the authorities of the general and state governments on account of the Indians. It will place a dense and civilized population in large tracts of country now occupied by a few savage hunters. By opening the whole territory between Tennessee on the north and Louisiana on the south to the settlement of the whites, it will incalculably strengthen the southwestern frontier and render the adjacent states strong enough to repel future invasions without remote aid. It will relieve the whole state of Mississippi and the western part of Alabama of Indian occupancy and enable those states to advance rapidly in population, wealth, and power. It will separate the Indians from immediate contact with settlements of whites, free them from the power of the states, enable them to pursue happiness in their own way, and under their own rude institutions will retard the progress of decay, which is lessening their numbers and perhaps cause them gradually, under the protection of the government and through the influence of good councils, to cast off their savage habits and become an interesting, civilized, and Christian community. What good man would prefer a country covered with forest and ranged by a few thousand savages to our extensive republic studded with cities, towns, and prosperous farms embellished with all the improvements which art can devise or industry execute, occupied by more than 12 million happy people and filled with all the blessings of liberty, civilization, and religion? The present policy of the government is but a continuation of the same progressive change by a milder process. The tribes which occupied the countries now constituting the eastern states were annihilated or have melted away to make room for the whites. The waves of population and civilization are rolling to the westward, and we now propose to acquire the countries occupied by the red men of the south and west by a fair exchange and at the expense of the United States to send them to land where their existence may be prolonged and perhaps made perpetual. Doubtless it will be painful to leave the graves of their fathers, but what do they more than our ancestors did or than our children are now doing? To better their condition in an unknown land, our forefathers left all that was dear in earthly objects. Our children by thousands yearly leave the land of their birth to seek new homes in distant regions. Does humanity weep at these painful separations from everything, animate and inanimate, with which the young heart has become entwined? Far from it. It is rather a source of joy that our country affords scope where our young population may range, unconstrained in body or in mind, developing the power and facilities of man in their highest perfection. These remove hundreds and almost thousands of miles at their own expense, purchase the land they occupy and support themselves at their new homes from the moment of their arrival. Can it be cruel in this government when, by events which cannot control, the Indian is made discontented in his ancient home to purchase his lands, to give him a new and expensive territory, to pay the expense of his removal and support him a year in his new abode? How many thousands of our people would gladly embrace the opportunity of removing to the West on such conditions? If the offers made to the Indians were extended to them, they would be hailed with gratitude and joy. And it is supposed that the wandering savage has a stronger attachment to his home than the settled, civilized Christian. Is it more afflicting to him to leave the graves of his fathers than it is to our brothers and children? Rightly considered, the policy of the general government toward the red man is not only liberal but generous. He is unwilling to submit to the laws of the states and mingle with their population. To save him from this alternative or perhaps utter annihilation, the general government kindly offers him a new home and proposes to pay the whole expense of his removal and settlement. And that's the Andrew Jackson speech to Congress on Indian removal, December 6th, 1830. So would you like to tie that into the Chico Apache story? Is that why you're bringing it to us? Is that one of the reasons? Or am I just jumping around? Well, I think maybe there's so many people that are curious about, you know, what happened to the culture. And so, you know, this is one of the steps of starting to build that understanding for people. How far back it goes, goes certainly further back than this. But, you know, it's quite an organized, systematic plan that, you know, still has, of course, impact. So, yeah, it's intense. I think the connection to stories is that that in itself is a story. That's what that man did was tell a story. But it's just, you know, to what he's talking about, it's a story revolving around killing somebody. And I think that's the big difference in the cultural perspective of how you're passing stories on. It's almost to say that America's stories have become policies. They've become laws. They've become things like that. That's what, you know, I see. That's what we see. And that's with the killing. Well, that's how those stories are passed on and why sometimes bad behavior is normalized, because that's how they're passed on to those stories. You know, one of the things that's also glaring in that speech is about removing people. And what was not understood about removing us from our environment was that it was, you know, always difficult to talk about our stories because sometimes people want to know times and dates, and we don't operate that way. So the best way to describe it is that forever our bodies had become in tuned with the environments that we were in. Nutrition, health, medicine, everything that was involved in keeping us alive was within that area. You know, I've been told, being around people that are sensitive to chemicals, had a friend that's extremely sensitive. They get sick just from smelling things on people, getting people off of clothes, things like that. And when I met them, it was interesting because, you know, they had told me that story, and I was always wondering, you know, is there something wrong with me? Am I a modern person to where I've been eating all this food and wearing all these clothes that I'm contaminated? What's going to happen when I present myself to somebody that's that sensitive? And it was interesting because they indicated, they told me, they said, you know, from what I hear about your stories and the time that you've spent, you seem to spend a lot of time outside. And the way you grew up and everything, it seems that your body was a little bit more in balance with the environment. And they didn't react to me. There was, you know, I've had them tell me that they can sit next to somebody and be sick for a day or two because of what's coming off of that person. But this particular person sort of told me, says, those are the kind of things that we can sense, you know, the chemicals, those things. So the ability to advocate for a balanced, you know, something that's going to make us healthier, I think that's what's not understood in that speech is once you remove people, you're basically like pulling a plant straight out of the ground with the roots, you know, and then you go try to plant it. You might get lucky. It might grow somewhere else. It might not. But it might not. Microclimates, right? To me, that's what's glaring about that. It's so cavalier about, well, let's just remove these people. They'll be happy. They'll be happy. And it's like, well, if you maintain at least a healthy environment for the next thousand years, maybe. But our bodies are not going to turn around that fast within 150 years, 170. That's how long it's been since we were running free. No buildings, no chemicals. It's not that long. And so our turnaround time for being pulled out of our country, maybe we're still adapting. I don't know. You know, is this why we have Apaches living in England, Lakotas living in Germany? Because, you know, they're adapting slowly. I don't know. You know, that just seems to be what it's so, wow, just pull them out. We came here from Europe. They can go somewhere else. That's the storyline that has been learned from that culture about it's okay to kill people and move them out of the way. Because where did that man learn that? Where did Jackson learn that? Who taught him to think like that? Well, a lot of people. He heard stories. And people came from Europe under duress. They were forced to. So that's in there, his story. Somebody told him that, like you said. And the choice thing jumps out to me. It's one thing for Europeans to choose. Not always. Sometimes it's an address, but to choose to transplant. It's another thing to take someone like a plant and pull it out and say you're going to go there without asking. It's not a choice. I think, or I guess you could sort of call it a movement that we have with coming back to the traditional territory and sharing the culture and stories with, of course, the citizens of the Cherokee Appalachian Nation and all the other folks that want to listen. But my thought about sharing that also is that, you know, yes, it's incredible to hear these ancient traditional stories. There's so much that people can be in awe of. But parallel to that is really educating people. And I think, you know, it's uncomfortable, some of it, but we can't exclude this aspect of educating people on what happened. And we hope to, you know, appeal to people's hearts and minds and, you know, build our local community around this new awareness and, you know, have people be part of it. People should question that. And I think a lot of that sentiment that he had, it's still prevalent today. So it's racism that needs to be unlearned. We all, I think, most of us who are, you know, we all have things to unlearn. And, you know, yeah. We didn't learn it. Somebody passed down, right? We didn't learn this speech in our United States public school system, did we? Most of us. And I won't say any names, but in the current White House, Andrew Jackson's portrait was put back up in the Oval Office, I think, National hero. Yeah. Anyway, that's that. That is something beautiful. And what I'd like to do is, because it is a local program that we're doing here, you know, one of the reasons why I started out with that particular story about the moccasin game, you know, it's still very relevant nowadays. In my traveling around the country in Canada and Alaska and participating in impalos, the moccasin game, which now up north they call it the stick game, is a huge event. You know, it's a big cultural event. At a lot of the gatherings, they have stick game competitions. They have stick game tournaments. And what's really nice about those kind of gatherings is we could be, you know, participating in a powwow all day long, dancing, hearing good music, and then once the powwow is over, then the stick game starts, and they go all night long from sunset to sunrise, as was the tradition of that particular game in the story, that it started at sundown and it ended at sunrise. The connection of that story to this particular area of our visiting here is that for Apaches, the location of the moccasin game is what is now recognized as Mogollon Mountain. It's a sacred area because of that story. And unfortunately, it's an area that's become adventurous. We understand it's what the Mogollon Concerned Citizens Group is dealing with up there. They're trying to protect that area. So I know that there's been talk about continuing their efforts to do something about the proposed mining that's happening up there. And so that was the main story of why I'm interested in bringing this story back up because I understand that it could get pretty difficult up there if they continue with the mining and what they're proposing to do up there. So the idea is to support Mogollon Concerned Citizens, support any efforts that go to changing those balances. But Mogollon is the area where our creation stories happened and this particular story of the moccasin game, that's where the first sun came up. And the first light that hit the ground after that game is on Mogollon. And if anyone has ever been up to Mogollon, what they call Mogollon Baldy Proper up at the top, and if you've ever spent the night up there, when the sun comes up on the east side, sitting on Mogollon, it's almost like you're looking down at a sunset, not straight or above you, but you're looking down at it. And the way the light hits that side of the mountain is just amazing. And that's where we believe that that light first hits ground after the moccasin game. But I know that there's a lot of potential mining going on in the area and we want to continue to support Mogollon to help see what they can do about this mining. The political climate in Washington administration right now seems like they would be in favor of destroying that area and that's what we're hoping to either reduce it, change it. When we tried to meet with Summa Silver, who is the primary company that's doing the drilling up there, we told them the story. We told them what was up there. We told them what was at stake culturally. They didn't seem very interested. And we were under the impression that that was a huge, sort of a huge shield that we could use to protect some of these areas with the sacred area, I guess, legislation. They went with sacred sites to not bother them. But unfortunately, they don't seem to want to pay attention to Mogollon itself. Our concern has been up there that it's just whittling away. It's kind of chipping away at that area, including what's called a Mogollon range, part of our creation stories, and the fact that they are petitioning for land inside the National Forest. The concern there is that technically what they're doing is actually putting them a mile from the wilderness boundary. So that's what we were concerned was that it was going to continue. And that creation story, we need to hold on to it to identify that site as important for humans, not just Apaches, but humans. Because all of us need to live during the day. Is that water at stake too? Like is it the Whitewater Creek? Yeah, you know, everything. The concern there is that it's amazing how it's a process that continues. Right now, the barometer, I guess you could say, is Oak Flat. But what's interesting too is several years ago, I ran into a couple that was living in Tucson. And they were telling me that in the 70s, they were trying to stop Tyrone. You know, Tyrone traditionally, historically, is part of that range that went down into what is now Mangus Springs. Then the Burroughs down to Mangus Springs, that was one of Mangus, Colorado's favorite areas to camp. And this gentleman that I met was telling me that they were actually bringing crews from Tucson to try to fight that mine there at Tyrone to stop them because the Burroughs at one point were just a Eden. You know, the beautiful groves and forests and trees and animals and all that kind of stuff and water. And apparently, you know, we've seen what's happened with the Burroughs and Tyrone. So that's a potential that can happen up in Mobile too. Yeah, I think, you know, to appeal to individuals and other groups, you know, that are concerned about protecting our wild lands, it's a good time for us to unite. Just driving back from a trip I was on this week, going across mid-Texas, west Texas, and then into New Mexico and up here. I've been doing that route for quite a while now, you know, 10, 20 years. And the development just in the last two years is rather shocking through, you know, oil extraction and then some of the other uses. And, you know, of course, we need to be innovative to support our, you know, highly consumer-based lifestyle. And, you know, even supposedly, you know, AI centers and stuff are having an impact. But to me, it's kind of horrific, the rate that's going on. And so, you know, we're fortunate to be in this large region, you know, New Mexico and parts of Arizona that's been pretty wild for a long time. But it looks like, you know, the eyes are upon us. I mean, a lot of us even observe seeing, you know, some of the aerial studies going on for minerals and water. And these things seem to be happening so swiftly without much or any community input. So, you know, we would really all benefit from joining together and, you know, protecting, of course, our sacred sites, but, you know, just this incredible region that we have and find some good solutions that, you know, can work for everybody involved. But it's just really shocking to me how fast it's happening right now. Yeah, we have helicopters flying over where we live, and they're looking for places to mine. And so we only own, a neighbor told us this, he talked to him and said, we only own the surface. If you own land, I don't own land, but if you own land, you only own the surface. So they can just buy a tiny piece and then go horizontally underneath your house and all this kind of stuff. And you don't even know, possibly. So I don't know, but I think it's a good idea to talk. Yeah. Talk and see. Well, there's some folks that are pretty organized, some of the environmental bigger organizations. Mm-hmm. So it's like a wild, right? Yeah, there's a number of them. So they can come, you know, call us and see what we can do to help, too. Yeah, good idea. Just, you know, kind of be monitoring what's going on in the area. I mean, we're not going to stop mining. It's just it doesn't seem like we've tried 150, 170 years. But it's such a powerful machine for money and economy and all that. The people that need that can't live without it. And I'm understanding that it's not going to go away. There's a new effort behind the monastery. They've designated another area to explore and drill. And, again, the stories I'm hearing is they're back to their old things, sneaking in, pretending like they're there as a tourist, getting information. You know, I understand the monastery may be struggling with their owner's rights regarding this drilling and what they're proposing back there. So it's not far away anymore. We've grown so used to seeing Santa Rita. We've grown so used to seeing Tyrone right here. They're growing, but, you know, they're still there. What's going to happen is that now we're going to get surrounded by it. Silver City. It just seems like that's the way it's going. Got to do it right. Get some of these people to back off a little bit. Yeah, it's kind of a scary time. Those monks are really concerned. Yeah. It's really close to where we are. Oh, it's right next to us. Yeah, it's right next to us. We were still having on our movement, part of our movement, to try to get to maybe to land back a good piece of land. Maybe a big-hearted rancher wants to give it back or something. So at least we have a large area. We weren't, you know, we're not a reservation tribe. There was a short period of time where that was worked out. But then when was that? Like then the government said, well, we don't want to pay for that, so they put the chair cow on another. But anyway, it would be nice to have like what we could consider a community. That might be something we'll talk about next. Well, thank you again for coming on the show. We're all out of time. Thank you, Joe. Thank you, Denia. Thanks, kids. Any questions? Thank you.