Unfiltered Truth: Empowering Indigenous Culture Through Music and Defying Injustice

Onstage, Frank Waln embodies his culture, with his entire being adorned in its essence. His face is embraced by his long, braided hair, while his ears proudly showcase the Lakota jewelry bestowed upon him by loved ones and admirers. Porcupine quills or buffalo bones often grace his earlobes, complemented by hand-woven bracelets enveloping his wrists.

As he passionately sings, a beaded medallion rhythmically thumps against his chest, amplifying his voice filled with anguish and resentment. Each lyric carries the scorching fervor of unresolved injustices, resonating with pain and fury.

"In one of his songs, titled 'My People Come From the Land,' Waln eloquently raps about the enduring struggle of my people, who originated from this very land on which you stand. We are still engaged in an ongoing battle against the forces of colonization. The haunting legacy of genocide has left its deep wounds, trapping me in a cycle of trauma. However, I have chosen to use my art of rapping as a medium to express and release this pain. It is my duty to honor the sacrifice of my ancestors by speaking the truth in my lyrics. I refuse to remain passive; instead, I am determined to fight back against the injustices that persist."

The Sicangu Lakota rapper, who originates from and was brought up on the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota, embarks on global tours, harmoniously combining hip hop and Indigenous music to create remarkable, soul-stirring songs.

Sicangu Lakota rapper Frank Waln is bringing Indigenous culture to the American music scene.

Tara Rose Weston

"I grew up in a place that was once a death camp, where my tribe was forcibly marched to their demise. Raised by survivors who were unable to discuss their trauma due to their ongoing survival mode," stated Waln, 34. "Even as a young child who lacked comprehension, I harbored an overwhelming sadness within. Music provided solace and aided in my emotional healing."

Surrounded by fellow survivors of colonial violence's atrocities, this talented rapper, who has received accolades, has always carried the weight of centuries of their suffering. He asserts that music offered him a therapeutic outlet and the chance to reclaim the freedom stolen from his people by American colonizers.

Weaving Indigenous culture into American music

At the age of 7, Waln discovered an enchanting old black piano that captivated him within his second grade classroom. One morning, overcome by irresistible curiosity, Waln succumbed to the temptation and seated himself at the piano. With his fingertips, he struck random keys, savoring each delightful yet off-pitch harmony.

"I experienced love. I vividly recall the sensation of my fingertips on those keys, the sound of the notes resonating," expressed Waln. "Music evoked a deep emotional reaction like nothing else, and ever since that moment, I have been relentlessly pursuing it."

Since that wintry day, he has self-taught himself the mastery of five musical instruments. Waln's music has been greatly influenced by hip hop, particularly the powerful impact of the album "StillMatic" by rapper Nas, but as a musician, he has evolved to create his own distinctive genre.

While most of his songwriting revolves around activism, denouncing the continual injustices faced by Indigenous people and compelling listeners to confront America's blood-stained past, he doesn't solely express himself with anger. There are occasions when his voice adopts a gentler tone. And there are times when he refrains from singing altogether, conveying tales of pain and love solely through the delicate melodies of the Native American flute.

He centers nearly every song around the instrument, and often the drums, both fundamental components of Indigenous music.

View this post on InstagramA post shared by Frank Waln (@frankwaln)

"When discussing the history of America and the Wild West, the focus is often on cowboys and Indians. However, Native Americans are overlooked when it comes to American music," remarked Waln.

"I aim to develop a unique genre that embraces Native music, culture, and sounds. This will also serve as a platform for other Native musicians who feel excluded from the American entertainment and music industry," he explained.

The musician incorporates his Native tongue and draws inspiration from the Lakota tradition of storytelling in his songwriting. He is particularly determined to reclaim his identity in a public space, as his grandparents faced punishment and death for it. Waln emphasizes the significance of having the freedom to do so and acknowledges the generational shift that has allowed for this liberation.

Reclaiming a culture that was once criminalized

Although it may appear that America's history involving the forceful seizure of Indigenous territories and brutal massacres of Indigenous populations occurred in a distant past, Waln emphasizes that this is not the case.

Just 45 years ago, Indigenous individuals in the United States regained the freedom to practice their cultural and religious customs thanks to the implementation of the Religious Freedom Act in 1978.

"There are audience members who witnessed the time when being Lakota was unlawful whenever I perform. Despite acknowledging that history remains in the past, it has significantly influenced our present reality," expressed Waln.

Waln, similar to the majority of Indigenous individuals in America, has experienced direct consequences of settler colonialism. According to him, his great grandparents, along with several others residing on their reservation, endured the traumatic experience of federal boarding schools during their childhood. These institutions violently coerced them into severing ties with their Indigenous cultures.

The Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology at Harvard University possesses a specimen of Waln's great grandmother's hair from her time at the boarding school. Waln's tribe is currently in the process of formally requesting the return of this hair sample.

Waln sings against injustice.

In the 19th and 20th centuries, indigenous children underwent a series of oppressive measures, including the imposition of English names, the suppression of their native languages, compulsory haircuts, and prohibitions on wearing traditional attire or jewelry. Additionally, they were forbidden from engaging in their sacred ceremonies.

The US Department of the Interior reports that in addition to forcibly assimilating children into White American society and separating them from their families, there were instances of violent punishments resulting in the death of hundreds of children. Waln, a member of the tribe affected, expresses how this traumatic experience led to a disconnection from their culture as the caretakers had to abandon their identities in order to survive.

"Many individuals may suggest that it is time for your tribe to move on from the past and accept defeat, without truly understanding the insidious aspects of colonialism. They fail to recognize the relentless methods used against our people, encompassing not only physical warfare, but also biological, spiritual, and emotional manipulation," he explained.

The lasting effects of settler colonialism are unmistakable in present-day America, having a widespread impact on Indigenous communities throughout the nation. Waln points out that on the Rosebud Reservation alone, poverty runs rampant, with unemployment rates surpassing 80%. Additionally, the prevalence of violence and addiction has reached a critical level, demanding urgent resolution.

Continuing to endure the effects of colonialism amplifies the trauma faced by both preceding and current generations, according to Waln.

He expressed, "I utilize music as a means to cope with this anguish. Within my culture, we perceive healing through a non-Western lens. And music serves as an antidote; hence, I am perpetually striving to invent novel methods of crafting improved remedies for myself, while also disseminating them to the global community, encompassing both Indigenous and non-Indigenous individuals."

Waln's music fearlessly displays the raw truth without any attempts to cater to others' comfort. He attributes his bravery in part to his mother, who consistently encourages him to speak with authenticity.

"I acknowledge the weight of this nation's complex history," Waln asserts, "and I refuse to alter the truth."

Oyate Teca Obmani

When Waln talks about the day he sat at the piano for the first time, he laughs as he reminisces on every detail of the day he found his purpose.

Sitting in a Boston hotel lobby before an event at Harvard University, he confidently stated, "From the moment I sit down and grab an instrument, I instinctively know that I am fulfilling my life's purpose." With his global travels, he frequently graces stages at tribal celebrations, universities, and esteemed museums like the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian.

He addresses the challenges faced on a reservation in his song "Concentration Camp Blues," expressing how they often go unnoticed: "Concentration camp blues / Absent from the headlines / These pioneers manipulated the system with their regulations."

A music video for "Concentration Camp Blues" was shot on the Rosebud Reservation.

In "What Made the Red Man Red," Waln addresses the racist lyrics of the 1953 Disney animation "Peter Pan". He questions the accuracy of history books and holidays, pointing out the falsehoods in Thanksgiving and Columbus Day. Waln wonders why he possesses more knowledge than his teacher and preacher, and questions the stereotype of the red man being associated with bloodshed.

Furthermore, Waln's other songs delve into his personal challenges and pay tribute to his loved ones. Among them is his mother, who served as a significant source of inspiration and a beloved spiritual guide until her passing in 2018.

"Music serves as my spiritual solace," expressed Waln, acknowledging the profound impact it holds in his life alongside his cultural identity. Deprived of music and the presence of his heritage, Waln's existence would feel incomplete." In parallel with hip hop, instrumental compositions, and the artistry of Indigenous artists reimagining melodies from icons such as Fleetwood Mac, Waln has skillfully forged a harmonious fusion that encapsulates both American musical elements and the essence of his Indigenous roots."

His new song "Stardust," released on Indigenous Peoples Day, showcases his evolving sound. In the song, Waln sings a poem he personally wrote, accompanied by a beautiful piano piece. It brings attention to the significance of star knowledge for the Lakota people, many of whom were skilled astronomers. Waln emphasizes that the Lakota knew long before Western science discovered it, that our bodies are composed of the same particles as stars.

Waln performs during a rally at the Oak Flat Campground in Arizona's Tonto National Forest, in 2015.

Deanna Dent/Reuters

In addition to receiving three Native American Music Awards, Waln assesses his success from a distinct Indigenous standpoint. According to him, the validation and support of elders and his community back home are essential indicators of his artistic journey being on the correct path.

The Walns community on the Rosebud Reservation honored him with a ceremony in 2013, bestowing upon him his Lakota name, Oyate Teca Obmani, which signifies "walks with the young/new nation." Recognizing the influence he had and his role in representing their culture, his elders acknowledged his ability to inspire young Native individuals to embrace their heritage and take pride in their Indigeneity.

Backed by his community and a multitude of individuals, both Indigenous and non-Indigenous, Waln is driven by a purpose to educate, heal, and foster unity.

"People often believe that we have ceased to exist," shared Waln. "That's precisely why I am dedicated to my craft. Through music, I wield a powerful instrument that can instigate transformation in the world."