Indigenous Laws of Respect + Sharing: What This Nation Must Learn
Our laws didn’t come from a constitution or a courtroom.
They came from the land — shaped by generations of relationship, responsibility, and truth-telling.
As a Cherokee and Choctaw person, I carry the teachings of my Nations.
And I also honor what is shared across Indigenous Nations — laws that Haudenosaunee Faithkeeper Oren Lyons Jr. reminds us of: Respect and Sharing.
These aren't abstract values. They are laws — lived, enforced, and carried through every generation.
Respect is the first law.
It is not earned through dominance; it is given because all life has value.
Respect for yourself, your family, your Nation. Respect for water, for ancestors, for the ones yet to come.
Respect isn't a performance — it's a relationship.
Sharing is the second law.
If you take, you give. If you have, you offer.
Our hunters didn’t hoard their kill — they left meat hanging for the next traveler.
A young hunter on their first kill offered meat to elders.
This was law, not charity. Community, not capitalism.
These laws are older than the U.S. and still more just than anything its leadership has shown.
Today, this country suffers from what it has forgotten — or refused to learn.
Leadership here is built on taking. On exploitation. On extraction.
But our ways teach another path: leadership as stewardship, power as responsibility, and justice as interdependence.
This isn’t about going backward. It’s about returning to what was always right.
These teachings are still here. They are alive in our Nations. And they are needed now more than ever.
From Law to Action: Indigenous Teachings + Real-World Accountability
What happens when ancient Indigenous laws meet today’s digital landscapes?
We’ve been talking about Respect and Sharing — the two foundational laws held across many Indigenous Nations. These aren’t just cultural niceties. They’re governance.
They’re how we survive, relate, and thrive. And they’re needed now more than ever — especially in places like LinkedIn, where performative allyship often masks real harm.
This week, many of us (on Linkedin) witnessed a white man use AAVE, a sacred Black cultural dialect, to take a veiled jab at a powerful Black woman in a professional space.
What followed?
A vague, crowd-pleasing apology that centered his reputation over her safety.
No naming.
No ownership.
No respect.
And certainly no sharing of the space, power, or repair.
This is where our laws come in.
🪶 Respect, as Indigenous law, means naming the harm. Honoring the cultural and human dignity of the one harmed. Speaking truth, even when it’s uncomfortable. It means stepping back so others can lead, not co-opting their brilliance to elevate your own.
🪶 Sharing, in this context, means sharing the weight of responsibility. It means using your platform to redistribute—not just content, but accountability, power, and protection. It means asking: What do I owe? And to whom?
This is not separate from our leadership practices. This is leadership.
The white man in question doesn’t just owe an apology — he owes a repair. He owes respect, not just performance. He owes sharing, not just spotlight.
So here’s the invitation: if you say you value Indigenous knowledge, Black leadership, and decolonized space — this is your test. Not in theory, but in practice.
This is how we apply our teachings.
📣 To my community: This is the moment to rise. Learn from those of us who walk with laws older than colonization.
Who teach leadership not as control, but as care. Communication not as performance, but as relational repair.
If you’re serious about equity, start here: ➡️ Listen. ➡️ Learn. ➡️ Step back. ➡️ Repair.
We are not here to be studied. We are here to be respected. And that means when harm happens — even (especially) from someone you admire — you don’t clap. You call for clarity.
This is how we build a different world.
Your Invitation: Join the Decision-Making Quest
If the words above stirred something in you — a truth, a discomfort, a knowing — you’re not alone.
We are living in a time where harm is dressed up as dialogue, where “leadership” often means domination, and where apologies are weaponized instead of honored as the start of healing.
So what do we do?
We return to the laws that never stopped guiding us.
We practice respect. We practice sharing.
We remember that decision-making is sacred.
That’s why I created The Decision-Making Quest — a decolonial, Indigenous-rooted experience designed to:
Rewire how we lead, speak, and respond to harm
Reconnect us with ancestral laws of responsibility
Build a leadership practice rooted in accountability, clarity, and collective wellbeing
This isn’t a training. It’s a transformation.
It’s not a quick fix — it’s a relational commitment.
It’s where we stop consuming wisdom and start practicing it.
This is for you if:
You’re ready to unlearn colonial ways of “decision-making” rooted in urgency, ego, and control
You want to embody leadership aligned with Indigenous, Black, and decolonial teachings
You believe in repair, not just response
You know equity isn’t a trend — it’s a treaty
Whether you’ve been in the work for years or just waking up now, the Quest will meet you where you are — and walk with you to where you need to go.
You don’t need to know everything.
You just need to choose: Are you willing to lead differently?
Let’s walk this road together.
Let’s make decisions that future generations can stand on.
#DecisionMakingQuest #DecolonialLeadership #RelationalGovernance #JusticeAI #IndigenousLaw #RespectAndSharing #LeadDifferently #CulturalRepair
Share this post