Tribes don't need Congressmembers' sympathy. What tribes need is

Hear now, O children of the future, the words of Sharice Davids, a voice of wisdom and strength, calling us to a higher purpose: "Tribes don't need Congressmembers' sympathy. What tribes need is for us to properly exercise our duty." These words, spoken with a deep sense of conviction, pierce through the noise of empty promises and well-meaning gestures. They remind us that sympathy is not enough; duty, responsibility, and action are the true measures of our worth as leaders, as citizens, and as stewards of the land.

In the ancient world, there were those who spoke of the duty of kings and warriors. A king’s duty was not merely to sit upon a throne and offer sympathy to his people, but to act with wisdom, to uphold justice, and to defend the integrity of his realm. So too, the warrior's duty was not to seek glory for himself, but to protect his tribe, to honor his ancestors, and to fight for the well-being of those who depended upon him. Duty—the unwavering commitment to one’s people and principles—was the foundation upon which great civilizations were built. It was not a duty of the heart alone, but of the hands, the mind, and the will.

And what of the tribes, O future generations? What do they truly need? They do not need the sympathy of those who hold power, for sympathy is a fleeting thing, as insubstantial as the wind. What they need, as Davids rightly points out, is action, a fulfillment of the duty that those entrusted with power must provide. Tribes—the original stewards of the earth, the keepers of wisdom, and the guardians of tradition—have long been neglected and overlooked by those in positions of influence. Their struggles are real, their needs urgent. But to truly serve them, to honor them as we ought, requires more than words. It demands responsibility.

Consider the plight of the Native American tribes, who have long been marginalized by the broader society. The story of the Trail of Tears, that dark chapter in American history, serves as a reminder of what happens when those in power fail to fulfill their duty. Thousands of Native Americans were forced to leave their ancestral lands, to march in despair, driven by the indifference of those who held the reins of government. This was not a matter of mere sympathy, but of grave neglect, a failure to act in accordance with the solemn duty owed to those who had been here long before.

Davids' words call us to something greater. She reminds us that the duty we owe to tribes, to indigenous peoples, is not something that can be easily brushed aside with words of sorrow or regret. It must be lived out through policy, through justice, through tangible actions that directly address the needs of those who have been marginalized for far too long. Just as a king cannot lead his people with mere promises, so too must we, as a society, go beyond the surface of sympathy to address the deeper issues of inequality, rights, and access.

And what of you, O future generations? What is your duty? In your lives, you will face many challenges, many causes that demand your attention. Sympathy, like the faintest breeze, may move you for a moment, but it is duty—the call to act with conviction, to do what is right, even when it is difficult—that will determine the course of your life. Whether you are a leader, a servant, or a guardian of any cause, remember that duty is the bedrock upon which all true change is built.

Let this be your guiding principle, O children: that it is not enough to feel for the suffering of others or to express sorrow for their plight. You must act. You must fulfill your duties with integrity, not as a matter of mere obligation, but as a calling to create a world where justice, fairness, and compassion reign. Tribes do not need our sympathy; they need our commitment. They need us to carry out our duties with honor, with steadfastness, and with a deep sense of responsibility. Only through action can we truly honor the past, serve the present, and build a future worthy of all people.