We Are Still Here

 A Journey into Memory, Spirit, and Belonging

Not long ago, I had the pleasure of walking into the Heard Museum. I did so with childlike curiosity. As I walked, my soul stirred. 

Though much of the museum focused on the art, history, and survival of Native people of Arizona, like the Navajo, O'odham, and Yavapai, it sparked something deeper in me. It awakened a knowing. A remembrance. A rootedness that whispered, "You belong here, too!" 

As I moved through the gallery spaces filled with pottery, textiles, ceremonial regalia, and stories of endurance, I could feel the voices of my own ancestors rising from within me. I am Cherokee. I am Blackfoot. I am Sioux. I am Tikar from Cameroon. I am Irish. I am Nigerian. My DNA holds codes from the peoples of Mali, Ghana, Senegal, Benin, and several other places from the Motherland. And somehow, in that sacred space, every thread of my lineage felt honored. Unified. Present. 

We are still here.

We are the songs of rivers, the fire of story, the drum of memory.

I stood still in one gallery room, sunlight pouring through the arched windows, and for a moment, I saw her: a grandmother I had never met. A woman who perhaps walked with the earth's pulse beneath her feet, who prayed in song, who knew herbs and how to speak to birds. I thought of my mother, her rich brown skin and soft, round face, her wisdom wrapped in gentleness and fierce love. I thought of my children and the stories they now carry. I thought of every person whose feet have walked with purpose, even when the path was unclear. 

This experience reminded me that though we come from different tribal nations, our stories are braided together by the sacred threads of resilience, reverence, and renewal. 

We are earth-tenders. Story-keepers. Dreamers. Warriors of compassion. 

Affirmations from Ancestral Truth:

• My identity is layered, complex, holy, and whole.
• I am the living prayer of those who walked before me.
• I walk in the strength, wisdom, spirit, insight and resilience of my ancestors.
• I am grounded in the Earth's, wisdom, guided by ancestral memory, and inspired by a future that honors all that I am.
• I am called to be a voice for the voiceless, a vessel for healing, a bridge between worlds. 
• The stories I carry are sacred gifts. 
• I belong everywhere the Creator has placed me, and I bloom again and again. 

Reflections for the Soul:

• What rituals or practices ground you in who you are?
• What part of your ancestry have you not yet explored, but feel called to remember?
• How can you honor the lands you now live on and the people who first stewarded them?
• What stories are you carrying that your descendants will one day need to hear?

In this season of continued transformation, choose to honor every part of your lineage, not just in word, but in love, in learning, in sacred living. The museum reminded me that healing isn't just personal, it's collective. It's generational. It's sacred. 

And, we are still here! 

May we walk gently. May we rise powerfully. May we remember. 

Soulfully, 

Stacie J.