We teach our patriotic way of being a Pueblo person by taking part.

And you do that when you're that old and you know.

You're dancing in the Pueblo, in the plaza, and you're sitting in the ceremonial house with your people.

You know, you're connected and there's something very strong about the drum, for one, the drumming, the singing, the unity that comes with it.

And so it's a different way of being patriotic in our communities.

My mother was a big.

She was a big advocate for Indigenous rights.

She was also a part of our AIM chapter in Albuquerque.

So I grew up hearing about the Pueblo Revolt of 1680.

And at the time, being young, it didn't really faze me because, you know, I just wanted to be a kid, and I just wanted to grow up in a normal world.

And, it wasn't until I was in about third grade when we started learning about the Southwest Indians, that I really learned the atrocities of the Pueblo Revolt and the Spanish and colonization, and at that time, learning about who I was, seeing myself in a school textbook.

It really opened my eyes, and it made me very prideful.

And I was really excited to see, you know, who we are as Native Americans, although the stories were very tragic.

And it also.

Was also part of my trauma.

When we couldn’t fight, you know, the horses and the guns and the metal and all of that, that came along at that point in time.

We could by pretending to be Christians, but at the same time, you know, taking those things that were targeted underground and managed to survive, you know, over, over the many years.

And so we have this combination of ceremony here in the community, and it's been the glue that really has kept our Pueblo together.

People think that the Pueblo Revolt happened in 1680, in the period of time, but it actually was happening for the past 82 years under the Spanish government.

So there was a silent revolt that had already happened.

Or was happening during that period of time when we were under the Spanish government.

They allowed us to continue to dance and sing and have our Kiva activities as long as they were in behalf of a Catholic religion in some way.

Now we have a way of life here in ceremony and dance that includes both the church and the Kiva.

When I go through a struggle, I think of what my ancestors went through for us to still be here today.

My identity has been something that I didn't really embrace until I became a little bit older, until I became a mother, became a matriarch.

I became proud of who I was, and that's something that no one can ever take away from you, no matter how hard they try.

Here in the community, you know, once you're baptized, confirmed, Holy Communion, all of that.

A lot of times you don't see those kids in church on a Sunday anymore.

But yet when we have a dance or ceremony, you know, the plaza is full of dancers.

I'm in a band, and, you know, I'm performing and we started to play Native Fest and, Native Music Fest, and I look out and I see so many little girls looking up to me, so many women looking up to me, even our elders, the grandmothers looking up to us and just telling us how much it inspired them to just really let loose and just smile and just really feel the music.

And I think that really flipped a switch in my head that, you know, I do have something to be proud about.

And so Pueblo Revolt is one of those reasons.

It's our very existence.

It's why we're still here.

If that revolt didn't take place, and the work of the community that happened to make it happen, I wouldn't be standing here today.

I think the thing that has allowed us to survive has been the adaptation.

You know, we haven't allowed the church to completely overtake our way of life.

We haven't allowed the schools to completely make us anglosized.

We haven't allowed those things to really get to the spirit of being a Pueblo person.

So we continue to be who we are.

You know, in traditional ways and using the church as part of it.

But we've made it so that we modified those things to fit our traditional way of being and doing.