Sitting Bull

My name is Tȟatȟáŋka Íyotake, which in your language means Sitting Bull. I was born around the year 1831 near the Grand River, in the land that is now called South Dakota. I am a member of the Hunkpapa Lakota people, and we made our home on the great open plains. When I was a boy, I was not called Sitting Bull. My name was Jumping Badger. I spent my days learning the important ways of my people, like how to hunt the mighty buffalo, how to show respect for our elders, and how to live in harmony with the natural world around us. When I was about 14 years old, I had a chance to prove my courage in battle. Because of my bravery, I earned a new name: Sitting Bull. It was a name my own father had once held, and I was proud to carry it.

As I grew into a man, I became a spiritual leader, a holy man, for my people. I could see that our way of life was in danger. More and more settlers were moving west, taking over the lands that had always been our home. In the 1860s, I was chosen to be a chief of the Lakota nation. My most important job was to protect our people and our home from those who would take them from us. In the year 1868, the United States government signed a document called the Treaty of Fort Laramie. They promised that our sacred land, the Black Hills, would belong to our people forever. But in my heart, I did not trust their promises. It was not long before gold was discovered in the Black Hills, and just as I feared, the treaty was broken as thousands of miners rushed onto our land.

We had no choice but to defend our homes and our families. In June of 1876, many bands of Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho people gathered together to stand strong. During this time, I had a powerful vision. I saw soldiers falling upside down into our camp, like grasshoppers falling from the sky. This vision filled our warriors with great courage and hope. On June 25th, our warriors fought against the soldiers led by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer. This fight is now known as the Battle of the Little Bighorn. During the battle, I was not a warrior fighting with weapons, but a spiritual leader, using my vision to inspire our men. It was a great victory for our people that day, but I knew the larger fight to protect our way of life was far from over.

After the great victory at the Little Bighorn, the U.S. Army hunted for us. To keep my people safe, many of us traveled north into Canada in 1877. Life there was very difficult, and food was scarce. After four long years, we returned to the United States in 1881. For a while, I lived on the Standing Rock Reservation. Then, in 1885, I did something very unexpected. I joined a traveling show called 'Buffalo Bill's Wild West.' It was a strange experience to be part of a show, but it gave me a chance to travel and show people from other places a small piece of our culture. I hoped that if they could see us, they might begin to understand us and our desire to live in peace.

In my later years on the reservation, a new spiritual movement called the Ghost Dance brought hope to many Native people who had lost so much. However, government officials were afraid of this movement and worried about my influence as a respected leader. On December 15th, 1890, they sent tribal police to arrest me at my home. During the struggle that followed, I was killed. I lived to be about 59 years old. Today, I am remembered as a leader who never stopped fighting for my people's land, culture, and freedom. My story is one of courage and a deep love for the way of life I fought so hard to protect.