The One Called Mountain Eagle

Elder Sheldon First Rider shares his language journey. From hiding his language in residential school, to teaching language learners how to write Blackfoot in syllabics, Sheldon First Rider has seen the rise and fall of the language, and is helping it to return today.

Funded by Sirius XM Canada through the Community Radio Fund of Canada
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Transcript

Multiple Speakers [00:00:00] [cheerful electronic music] Sim gigyat, Sigidim Haanak’, K’ubawilxsihlxw. Oki, wishing you good life. Kuei! Kuei! Yo! Wik’sas. Dánet'e, negha dágǫ́ht’e.

Announcer [00:00:14] This is Words and Culture, a series on Indigenous languages funded by SiriusXM through the Community Radio Fund of Canada. [music fades out]

Eugene Brave Rock [00:00:25] Oki, niisto nitahnakok (continues introducing self in Niitsíʼpowahsin)

Welcome to the Blackfoot episode of Words and Culture. I’m your host, Eugene Brave Rock. Being Blackfoot is something I carry with pride, responsibility, and deep humility. The richness of Blackfoot culture isn’t something you can fully explain, it’s something you feel. It lives in the land, in the wind, in the stories carried by our Elders and in the footsteps of the warriors who came before us.

We come from a lineage of strength, protections, providers, visionaries. Warriors not just in battle, but in spirit, in resilience, in survival. Everything we are today is built on that foundation. Every word we speak, every ceremony we honour, every story we carry forward. It’s all connected.

What I love most about being Blackfoot is that the sense of belonging to something greater than myself, it’s knowing that I’m not walking alone. I walk with my ancestors, I walk with the teachings that remind me who I am, where I come from, and how I am meant to move in this world. With respect, with intention, and with my heart. There’s a responsibility in that, but there’s also a deep kind of beauty, and knowing, and language.

Language is everything. Our Blackfoot language isn’t just a way of speaking, it’s a way of seeing the world. Every word holds story, every sound carries meaning beyond translation. For so long that language was threatened, pushed aside, silenced. But we’re still here and so is our language. That’s where the work becomes sacred.

Through the efforts of knowledge keepers like Sheldon First Rider and through the journeys we’ve both committed ourselves to, we are finding ways to retain and revitalize our language. Not just through speech, but through syllabics. Giving our language a written form that can be seen, studied, shared, and preserved for generations  to come. That work matters. It creates access, it creates continuity, it ensures that our children and their children can not only hear the language, but read it, write it, and carry it forward in their own way.

Sheldon has been a powerful force in that. His dedication to the language, to the teachings, and to the people reflects what it means to truly live in service of culture. And alongside him, I carry that same intention. To learn, to share, to document, and to honour. Because this isn’t just preservation, it’s continuation. We are the living extension of those warriors who came before us and through our language, spoken and written, we make sure they are never forgotten.

I asked Elder Sheldon to introduce himself.

Sheldon First Rider [00:03:32] Oki, niistokowa (continues introducing self in Niitsíʼpowahsin)

Hello, my relatives, I am the one called the Mountain Eagle. I am a residential school survivor. I was taken away from my granny when I was five years old, placed in that hell hole.

After a beating and – we would gather and we would ask each other, “Why are we here? What did we do wrong?” The only thing that we could think of was that we were born Blackfoot. You could not even say, “Oki,” in our language without getting beaten. And after the supervisor would say, “Don't you ever speak that language again. It's the devil's language. You're all Satan's children.”

When I left the schools, my granny was very kind and loving and – but when I came home, in the first year, and she started speaking to me in Black, but – because that's all she really knew. I told her, “Grandma, don't speak that language anymore. That's the devil's language. We’re Satan's children.”

I'm 73 right now and I still remember that look that she gave me, that – and it's a very sad look. I became an alcoholic, a drug abuser. I started drinking very heavily, I – we'd come home in the summertime, we'd work in the hay and we'd go and form a cloud and buy a bottle of wine. And this was only when we were about 10 years old. And by the time I was 24, I was diagnosed with cirrhosis and I was given that choice of life or death. That was almost 50 years ago, and I chose life. I haven't drank alcohol or used hard drugs since.

In order to be able to stop, I went into the mountains and lived by myself there for a year. Came down from the mountains, went to a powwow, and that's where I met Thomas Floyd Heavy Runner. We call him Tiny Man. And he's the one who designed the syllabics. But I loved powwows. And that is what Tiny Man was.

His grandparents who adopted me were singers, dancers, and game players, and – this were – I guess you could say I became obsessed with trying to be who I was.

Eugene Brave Rock [00:06:59] (narrating) When we ask Elders to speak, we have to be prepared to listen. A simple introduction becomes a lesson. That lesson is not always immediately recognizable. Sometimes you have to sit with it. In his introduction, Elder Sheldon mentioned syllabics.

This is one of the written forms of Blackfoot. And it is the one that Sheldon embraces.

Sheldon First Rider [00:07:23] I was able to teach the Blackfoot syllabics at a group home. And there was a proud young man there, or young – he was – he learnt the syllabic and he could say the sounds very good, even though he might not understand it. But that was where I became encouraged by the syllabics.

So then – that was 1982 – and I went down to Spokane, stayed in Spokane, and I thought, “Geewhiz, it would be nice to kinda, guess – learn how to use a camera and try to put the syllabics in place.” And I thought, “Well, I'll just do once – one quarter.” (laughs) I ended up spending six years there.

My grandmother died. And I'd always visit her during the breaks and she was such a big influence in my life. And so I came back home. And that's when I got a job with Recreation. And then I was teaching syllabics and camera movements at the Leftbridge school. And like I said before, that's our Mecca of the language at that time in 1990.

When I would say a word and ask him to repeat it, some of the students would correct me. (laughs) They would say, “(speaks Niitsíʼpowahsin)” Which, “That's not how you say it. This is how you say it.”

It was quite a, you know, extremely proud moments to be corrected.

And so Kainai Board of Education came into play and they said that the syllabics and – would be too confusing because they were adopting the Blackfoot Dictionary, and it was being put together by a Professor Don Frankz from Leftbridge University, and being translated or written by Lena Russell and Norma Jean, her daughter. And I knew them quite a long time. And I really do respect what they did, to try to create a dictionary and – 

But the only problem was was that it was using the IPA system, International Phonetic Alphabet. I’m not saying it's a problem. I'm just saying that our young students were not prepared to be able to use it.

So that was, like, 35 years ago, and there's a lot of negativity to the syllabics, but I just kept going.

And then I went to visit my mom in Seattle, and I was there for almost 12 years, 10-12 years. And I came back home, and I got a job with Recreation, and then, actually, Levern was the community that I was at. I remember when I was teaching at Levern in 1990, I'd hear the children speaking Blackfoot, no – hardly any English. And I would say 90% of them were speaking Blackfoot.

When I got back in 2010, and I went back to the same school just 20 years later. I would say from 90% to less than 10%. We lost it that quick. And that's when I decided to go back into the syllabics. And I came to Calgary and started the syllabics at the CommunityWise, which was sponsored by the Calgary Indian Friendship Center. And I did that for a year.

And then I got a job at Glenbow Museum, and that is where, you know, I thought I knew a lot when I was growing up as being a part of my grandmother's, I guess you could say participation in societies, and I would be with her.

But when I got into Glenbow, I realized how very little I knew and that gallery was amazing. There's over 271 stations with explanations of our artifacts, our tipi, our clans, our winter counts, stories of creation, and Niitsitapiisini. Our Way of Life.

So I was there for almost 11 years, and I estimated I taught at least over 50,000 children in Calgary and more in the surrounding communities.

I had my supervisor, her name was Danielle Boroff, you know, she encouraged me to teach the syllabics at the museum. So we set up a part of the gallery to teach the syllabics. And then we'd do a, kind of like, a scavenger hunt and through the gallery and we'd talk about different animals, like Raven, Ómahkai’stoo. Elk, Ponoká. Dog, Imitáá.

And these were all shown in the gallery, and tipi, of course, niitóyis. And plants, sáísskii.

And to me, that was where I feel like I gained so much more of my knowledge.

Eugene Brave Rock [00:13:47] (narrating) The Glenbow Museum houses over 250,000 pieces of art and cultural history. I’ve been to the Glenbow but it has been many years.

Walking into that space, seeing the belongings of my people, the Blackfoot, held behind glass. I won’t lie, there was a part of me that felt pride. The deep, quiet pride to witness the craftsmanship, the beauty, the intention. To know that these weren’t just artifacts, they were lived lives. They were hands, they were prayers, they were survival.

But at the same time, there was something that didn’t sit right in my spirit. Because when I look around, it felt like our people were being presented as something from the past. Like we were part of a finished chapter. Like dinosaurs, studied, observed, preserved. And that’s the hard truth, we’re not gone. We’re still here, we’re still speaking, we’re still carrying those same songs, those same stories, those same responsibilities.

So there’s the tension I carry. Gratitude for the care, for the preservation, but also a deep knowing that many of those items, those sacred belongings carry a spirit that belongs home. Not just physically, but spiritually. They belong back in the hands of our people, in ceremony, in story, in life. Because those aren’t just objects, they’re relatives. And I say that with respect. That moment, standing there, it took me inward. I started thinking about my own journey.

There was a time when I was hesitant, almost afraid to step into the responsibility of recording our Elders, of holding language, of carrying stories forward. I didn’t know if I was ready, I didn’t know if I was worthy of that responsibility. So I did what I’ve always been taught to do. I looked for guidance. And somehow that search brought me to a book, The Blood People by Adolf Hungry Wolf. I opened it, not randomly but with intention, and right there in that forward, it was my grandfather. Mokakin.

And it wasn’t just the words on the page, but it felt like he was speaking directly to me across time. He talked about the importance of recording what we have left, of preserving the last of our language, our stories before they slip away. He spoke about responsibility, about not waiting, about stepping into that role even if you feel unsure.

And in that moment everything became clear. The hesitation I carried? It shifted into purpose because I realized this isn’t about being ready. It’s about being called. And from that place, I began to understand that what we’re doing now, sitting with Elders? Recording their voices? Honouring them with protocol? It’s not just documentation, it’s continuation, survival. It’s love of action.

And that’s what brings me to this next part, because what Elder Sheldon shares, it comes from the same place of truth, responsibility, and lived experience.

So I ask you to listen, not just with your ears, but with your spirit. Because these aren’t just stories, they’re instructions.

Sheldon First Rider [00:17:22] Because my grandfather's stories were there, 150 stories, and you know, when I'd visit my grandfather and do some interviews with him, I would say to him, “Grandpa, you're a Christian now. Do you still believe in all of this stuff?”

And he said to me, “Tsíki, I do not lie about what I talk about or tell. These are my transfers. And I can only be truthful about what I know. And know the stories are true.”

And I said, “Grandpa, you know so many stories. How do you know them all? How do you tell them if you say that they've been told the same way for thousands and thousands of years?”

And I said, “Because you tell them with the old Blackfoot language, the language of truth.”

You also do some pantomime or acting with those stories. You use sign language, because we had Deaf people, and we could communicate with the Inuits, all the way down to South America. And there was a song that was sung.

And he said, “When all of that is done and I'm singing that song, I know it's hard for you to understand or believe, but that is when the original storyteller would come into my body and tell the story the way it was supposed to be told.”

And that's always amazed me because, during my presentations, I tell so many stories about the tipi, about katoyíswa. Blood clot, I tell stories about the wolf, I tell the stories about Iipisówaahs. Morning star. I tell stories about the buffalo, the horses, the history of the colonialism, of post-colonialism.

And so this is how I felt. Like my grandfather's stories were, and what was at the gallery, is what captivated the young people from all walks of life, who would come to Glenbow to hear presentations. When we had the syllabics, it was sold out in the first year. The second year was very well, it was all sold out.

But then COVID came in on the third year, and of course we had to shut down. But still, I was very impressed with the children. How they really enjoyed the language and the presentation through the gallery.

Glenbow housed a Blackfoot gallery that was put together by the Elders of the Blackfoot people. And one of the only galleries – museums that sponsored something like this. They used the artifacts from families who entrusted Glenbow to take care of them, and they have.

Eugene Brave Rock [00:20:36] (narrating) Elder Sheldon First Rider and I have known each other for over 15 years now. Long enough to understand that this work isn’t something you visit, it’s something you live. From the beginning, I’ve watched Sheldon carry the language with a kind of discipline and responsibility that few people truly understand.

His work in developing and promoting Blackfoot syllabics, his commitment to teaching, to recording, to sitting with Elders, and also creating short stories that are now available online for people to access and learn from anywhere. This isn’t just about preservation, it’s continuation, it’s survival. It’s blackfoothistory.ca.

And now our paths have aligned in a deeper way. Every step I take with the Oki Language Project is guided with intention. I don’t arrive empty handed, I come with tobacco, with protocol, with respect. Because the words we carry are not ours alone. They belong to the ancestors, the Elders, and the generations still waiting to hear them.

Each visit, each story, each greeting spoken in our languages is a reminder that this journey is bigger than me. It’s about honouring those who carried those words through the hardest times and insuring they continued to live long after we are gone.

My path has taken me many places in this world. Film sets, stages, distant countries, but this work? This work with language? With Elders? With community? It’s where the footsteps feel the most powerful. I am bless to walk this road with humility, carrying tobacco, carrying stories, carrying love for our people.

And alongside Sheldon, we are continuing this Blackfoot language revitalization in a real living way. Sitting with Elders, listening deeply, creating storybooks, short films, and supporting the work he’s done by sharing language through accessible online short stories that reach people far beyond our immediate communities.

The Oki Language Project isn’t just documenting language, it’s breathing life back into it. And wherever this path leads me next, I walk it with gratitude, with purpose, and with a strength of community behind me.

Sheldon First Rider [00:23:01] I put together what is called the Blackfoot Language Revitalization. Now, I've been doing this for a long time, almost 50 years, and about 6 months ago I felt like it was time to retire because it wasn't really going the way I wanted it to go. (laughs)

There wasn't any students speaking Blackfoot. And I thought, “Well, maybe that's my time now. I've done enough.” And so I prayed and thanking the spirits for giving me all this knowledge and the ancient ones, my grand – the Elders that I talk to today. And then these young men called me and asked me if I would – wanted to come to their office. They had something to show me.

They showed me an animation of a video that we did with the Telus Convention Center. Anyways, one of them was the crocus because that's their logo now and so we put together some of the video. My granddaughter, her name is Sharaira Snow First Rider, she did the illustrations. And I had never ever thought that I would be in a way that I could tell these stories and – that put me there in animation.

I worked with a non-profit organization called IndigeSTEAM, and so I went to show them the Elder Sheldon, and I said it was put together by NKZ and Eclipse Studio and it was a way for, you know, us to be able to reach our young people. And they really thought it was a very good idea.

So they sponsored two videos. One is called The Tipi. And it was really cool, oh my gosh. I was amazed by it. And then we did another video with William Singer. So we put a video of the four sacred plants and mint sage. Chokecherries and saskatoons.

Chokecherries are what we call pákkii’p. Saskatoon berries, ókonoki. Sage, ka’ksimiwa. Mint, ka’ksimó.

These are the four main ingredients to pemmican, when we dry meat and we mix it with these ingredients. And that’s – these are supplements when winter comes and we survive on pemmican. If we go on long journeys, it's a very – it’s an energy. Anyways, we put together this video and (laughs) it was amazing too. It was just like…

Eugene Brave Rock [00:26:06] (narrating) To see the videos or to subscribe, you can visit the website blackfoothistory.ca. That’s the thing about learning, we’re not meant to stay the same. We’re meant to grow, to evolve, to carry things forward in a good way. And I’m grateful Sheldon found a path that keeps him connected to our young people. Because that bridge between generations? That’s everything.

So I want to leave you with a word that feels right for this episode, iiyika'kimaat. “Ei-kah-ki-mat.” Iiyika'kimaat.

It means, “never give up.” No matter how hard it gets, no matter how far you feel from where you’ve started, we keep going. For our Elders, for our youth, for those still coming. My name is Eugene Brave Rock and I’ll talk to you next time on Words and Culture.

Announcer [00:27:02] [cheerful electronic music] Words and Culture is made possible with funding from SiriusXM, through the Community Radio Fund of Canada. Words and Culture is produced by Kim Wheeler. Kaylen Belair is our audio engineer and editor.

Multiple Speakers [00:27:16] Hami yaa. Iame! K’achu naohdá nǫ́. Halakas'la. Kitakitamaatsinyo’pau, we’ll see you later. [music fades out]