Ryan Winn

When President Christopher Caldwell thinks about College of Menominee Nation’s 30th anniversary, he thinks about netāēnawemākanak. The Menominee word translates to English as “all my relations,” which he sees as a component of the “generational” nature of the college.

Ponīnītah. Translated into English, this Menominee word means “Don’t give up.” The College of Menominee Nation’s Indigenous wellness director, Beth Waukechon, makes this sentiment a mantra.

Upon entering her role at the college in summer 2022, Waukechon saw her work as “carrying out the college’s mission to build more access and education for overall wellness opportunities.” She noted that her goal is “normalizing mental health awareness and support,” adding that “Coming out of COVID, we cannot live with the illusion that mental health struggles do not exist.”

Jim Thorpe’s Sac and Fox name was Wa-tho-Huk. Although the English translations of his tribal name vary, “Path Lit by Lightning” is the most poetic way to describe the moniker given to the child born during a thunderstorm. Nearly 70 years after Thorpe’s death in 1953, his latest biographer David Maraniss employed that poetic translation as the title of his lauded new book on “the greatest athlete who ever lived.”

‘S kew-nīmihaetuaq directly translates as “where they habitually dance.” The Menominee word for the natural amphitheater in Keshena carries a richer meaning than the English moniker — the Woodland Bowl. Yet, despite one’s preferred name, it’s what habitually happens in that space that resonates through the generations.