Be Brave, Be Brave, Be Brave

The day you were born, your mother and I were so scared, but we had to be brave.
Your mother labored for many hours to bring you into this world, and she was so brave.

When you arrived, you were sick, and so was your mother.

Everyone was very worried, but we remembered to be brave.

We wanted to pay tribute to my Native American ancestry, so we named you Lakota, after the Lakota Sioux people, who in their time had to be brave.

But our first moments with you were short. The doctors rushed you away, and your mother was in danger. She badly needed care. The choice I had to make to leave your mother’s side and follow you was terrible, but for you, I had to be brave.

I watched the nurses work to help you while they tried to explain to me what was happening. Exhausted and heartsick, I kept telling myself: you must be brave.

When I knew you were in good hands. I ran through the hospital to get back to your mother’s room, not knowing what I would find.

I thought about the wonderful memories I had of my mother. I remembered the powwows she took me to when I was young. I remembered the singing that would fill your ears, the drumbeat you could feel in your soul, the dancers so full of grace in their regalia. This was how my mother showed me who we are, and passed to me the gift of my culture.

I wondered in fear if you would lose the chance to have memories like these of your own. Without your mother by my side, I didn’t know if I would be able to be brave.

My mother, your grandmother, used to take me, my sister, and brothers with her to visit her brother, our uncle. We were amazed by his collection: spears, bows, arrows, and a shield as well. They had been made by indigenous people like us in the past.

My mother believed it was important for us and to know how proud to see these pieces of our heritage, our uncle was of being Native American. My mother taught me that to be proud of who you are is to be brave.

When I reached the hospital room, the doctor told me at the door that she had done her work, and your mother was out of danger.

As I walked to her side, I knew I should be strong for her. She struggled with her recovery and was always in pain, but the smile never left her face.

I never knew someone could be so brave.

The sun rose, and your mother finally got to hold you. We felt the worst had passed, that we had made it. But just as we believed our life with you was about to start, another storm decided to turn our way.

I put my arms around you and your mother and told myself: be brave, be brave, be brave.

A historic storm named Hurricane Harvey approached our hometown of Corpus Christi, Texas. The sun was out and the wind was barely blowing, but off in the distance the sky was darkening. You could feel that something was coming.

Thirteen hours after your birth, as the weather predictions became grave, the hospital evacuated you to San Antonio in an ambulance with your nurse. As we followed behind in our car, we were so sad for our family, our home, and our neighbors, but we knew that they would be brave.

On the road to San Antonio the traffic was backed up for miles. All of the people were leaving behind everything they had: uncertain of the future. As our Native ancestors were forced to leave their homes by strangers who claimed it for their own, we were also on a trip we didn’t want to make, unsure if we’d be able to return. That they found the courage and strength to endure their struggle helped me understand what it means to be brave.

With so many fleeing the storm the drive to San Antonio took twice as long as normal. It gave me time to think about how much I wanted to share my heritage with you, as my mother had with me, though I don’t know how. Our connection to our tribe is lost to us: gone with a relative no one remembers or even met. The journey to reconnect with the people and traditions we were separated from will require much from us, but for you Lakota, I will be brave.

When the storm passed and it was safe to return, we saw the damage the hurricane had done. We saw Rockport, Texas, with its houses collapsed, boats on land, and debris piled high. We were lucky that our home was spared the worst, when so many South Texans had suffered terribly.

But the courage of our neighbors held strong. I wanted to be out there with them doing my part to help rebuild, but after all you and your mother had been through, I was needed at home.

Our friends delivered tank after tank of fresh water to the towns of Port Aransas, Rockport, and Aransas Pass for days, as the families there were without even clean water to drink. With the support of each other, our community showed its determination to be brave.

And then life with you started. Your mother and I hardly got any sleep, but we were so happy. One day you were crying and crying, we couldn’t figure out what troubled you, Lakota. But I knew who to call.

Soon your aunt arrived with your grandmother and great-grandmother to help. I held you up to them in my hands. Your great-grandmother brought out a bundle of dried sage and lit the end on fire, blessing you with its fragrant, gentle smoke. In no time you were calmed, and fell into a very peaceful sleep. It reminded me of something from my childhood I’d forgotten.

When I was a little boy, my mother would perform this same ritual every month. She would burn sage throughout the house to ward off the negative energy and bless our home. Early in the morning she would come into my room go to the four corners, reciting words and under her breath and interrupting my sleep.

I didn’t understand then, but I know now that this was her way of giving us her love and protection, just as I give you mine, little Lakota. Watching your great-grandmother give the same blessing to you reminded me that you have a beautiful family that will always be here for you, even when you cannot be brave.

I knew a moment had arrived. We took you to your room to put you down for bed, gazing in amazement at the life we had created. Your mother sat next to me while I had a talk with you.

I had thought about this moment all my life. There were two words I wanted you to have with you always, two words that would be there for you when times got tough, two words to always fall back on when you don’t know what to do:

BE BRAVE