Erin Amanda Griffin Log 3

Taku owakahniga he? I have always understood leadership to be a role of responsibility. For a long time, I knew it wasn’t something I sought out, it always just came along. I felt burdened by it, betrayed by it, like it was something I didn’t ask for that I had to keep paying for. In that time, I sacrificed growth for myself, things I loved, a life I wanted, and my health and sanity. But I also learned. Since this fellowship began, my life has gone through numerous cycles. I have experienced deep levels of loss, devastation, stress, and anxiety. In those moments, I started to tell myself I didn’t care anymore, things just didn’t matter. I have also experienced incredible relief, accomplishment, excitement, strength, clarity, and confidence.

Taku owas sdodewaye sni. There is a lot I don’t know, but there are some lessons I’ve learned along the way, lessons I keep learning all over again. (1) Don’t pray/ask for strength. You never know how you will be strengthened when you ask for it. But also, asking for strength can be said in many ways. Be careful what you put out into the world in anger and frustration. (2) The universe is balanced. Good and bad are not what they seem, but they always come hand-in-hand. This balance is what keeps us on the path we are intended for and if we stray from it, it puts us back on it. However, everything is not simply done for us, we must listen and do the things we are supposed to do.

Wanna taku ibdukcan ye. I don’t see my leadership the same way I used to. It still comes in ways I don’t expect, I still perceive it as a responsibility, but I also know there is much more to it.
– My personal health and wellbeing are the foundation of my leadership. If I am out of balance or not okay in any aspect of my mind, body, or spirit, the rest of my life will be affected, often adversely. If I ignore an imbalance, the price for that grows. How to live in a way that I take care of myself is something I did not understand well two years ago, and I am still learning about it. However, I have started to apply new skills that support my leadership on a daily basis. (1) I say no to things I don’t want to do, things that take my time and energy away from my focus, to people who aren’t helping or supporting me, and to things that don’t feel right. I used to say yes to everything. Now, I say no frequently, happily, and with zero regret. (2) I spend maybe 10 minutes a day, or less, on email. I don’t read every email, I don’t respond to every email, and I limit the emails I write (same goes for zoom meetings). At the end of the day, at the end of our lives, how many of those emails and meetings are really going to matter? There are a lot of things in this world that distract us, that consume our energy, that keep us from creating and leaning into who we are and emails and zoom/meetings are two of them. (3) I spend time outside. I garden and grow my own food. I take naps in the sun. I take long walks and talk to the birds. When there is deep snow, I go and lay on it and watch the clouds. In the summer I lay in the driveway and watch the clouds and listen to the trees. I watch the birds migrate and the plants go through their cycles. These things ground me, calm me, and connect me to what is greater than me. (4) And I create. I love to make things. I bead, quill, and make ribbon work. I create language content and do translations. I write and teach. Doing these things make me happy and make me feel complete. But I need energy and calmness to be able to do these. I need time to reflect, to think, and just listen. So if I find myself in a situation where I’m not allowed to do those things, I remove myself from those situations.
– My leadership is also a reflection of me accepting the responsibility I have been tasked with in my life. Each of us is born with a specific purpose and it is up to us to accept and step into that identity. I have tried to walk away from my own purpose and responsibility multiple times, every time it has found me and brought me back. The people I work with, the projects I work on, the things I create, and the way I interact with this world reflect my purpose. I must pay attention and trust my direction. Much of what I know and understand is a gift, and so I have a responsibility to share it and to use my experience to advocate for others. Silence is not an option for me.
– My leadership is a story. I was teaching my students about grant writing one day and told them it really just comes down to being a good storyteller. For me, telling a good story or telling a story well comes from connection – tapping into who you are, what your experience is, the things that excite you and nurture your fire. Good writing requires multiple drafts, sometimes you have to walk away from it, you need someone else to look at it to help you see the things you missed or mistakes you can’t see, and you have to accept that it will never be perfect (in ten years when you go back and read it you will find mistakes or ask yourself what you were thinking). This is how my leadership works. I am not perfect and won’t be, but I will change and evolve, seek out and ask for help, recognize that I can’t do everything alone and that I don’t know everything, and I take the time to reflect on my lessons, learn from them, and acknowledge my growth.
– I have manifested my leadership. In the last four years, I have thought that I lost everything. I felt like I lost myself. I thought I no longer had purpose. Then things started to align and one day I realized my life had become something I once envisioned. I used to say I wanted to be a professor like my mom, and today I am a tenure-track assistant professor. I once said I wanted to finish school and return home to learn the language and teach it. I finished school in May 2023 and now my job is to learn and teach the language. I know for sure that nothing ever goes how we imagine it will. Sometimes we have to take the long way around to get to where we’re supposed to be. Sometimes that road is a hard one. No matter how hard it gets, have faith, get back up when you fall, keep the people who give you unwavering support close, be kind to yourself, and take one step at a time.

When I applied for this fellowship, I wrote and talked about Woinina, silence. This is the space where things begin and end, where we create and connect, hear and see. Silence can be quiet and still or a crack of thunder that shakes your house. We all perceive it differently based on our own worldview. As my time in this space closes and my path moves forward, it seems appropriate to end with this reflection and reminder, to always seek those moments of Woinina. Pay attention to the silence around you, it is telling you what you need to hear and where you need to go.

Owas nape ciyuzapi ye. Isnana Nazin Win de miye.