The Faithkeepers School is a non-profit, grassroots effort that provides an education following traditional language, customs and ceremonies of the Iroquoian Longhouse and the culture of the Allegany Seneca People.
The Faithkeepers School came into existence in 1998 through the efforts of Lehman "Dar" Dowdy and his wife Sandy. "Dar" is head Faith keeper, and Speaker in the Longhouse on the Allegany Territory. Sandy taught Seneca language, and culture for 12 years in the Salamanca Central School. She now devotes all her time to the Faith keeper's School.
Dar states; "Our mission is to preserve and maintain the traditional Seneca language, culture and customs. Our Seneca language gives meaning to our ancient Seneca customs, ceremonies, history and laws. It is the elders who possess the knowledge and wisdom of our Seneca heritage. It has always been that way.
Those who can think and speak in Seneca number fewer than 5% of the Seneca population and now there is an increasing sense of urgency whenever a fluent Seneca speaking elder passes on.
Our identity depends on how we fulfill our responsibilities to our children. The knowledgeable ones teaching young minds is the key that ensures our Seneca language, customs and traditions will remain alive and constant".

Tear Stained Pillow
I promised myself when I started this journey of blogging that I would have no sadness written here. Life is good, it is a gift and I thoroughly enjoy every minute. Well, not every minute perhaps. Because in our good lives, as we enjoy the morsel of minutes, there is an aftertaste of sorrow. This week has had several of those minutes. I have been drowning in tears.Tuesday night, so late that it was near to ringing in Halloween, a friend of mine lost her youngest child. He was shot by her boyfriend during a domestic dispute. I have told close friends and family that while I was shocked when I received the phone call, I am not surprised. This man whom she called her boyfriend was no friend at all.My friend had been in this relationship for a few years. I remember when she met this man. I met him within a few days of her meeting him and I knew. Been there, done that. I knew right away that he was trouble. Always go with the gut. But she was ga-ga with his over the top personality and charm. Most of all she was lonely. Abuse predators take advantage of this. For some reason there are women who like the bad boys out there, those who will control your very soul. So I began my journey with her from light hearted friend to a tear stained pillow.She had worked hard that day ~ standing on one's feet, cutting, coloring, styling, combing hair can be quite tiring. When she came home from work, hungry, exhausted, just wanting to crash, he was there. He was always there. He wouldn't, couldn't keep a job. She was his mule. His meal pass. His puppet.She wanted to rest, he wanted to talk. About what she doesn't do right. Her youngest son, beautiful ~ full of life's promise, hope and love and only 18 years old ~ was there. He sought to break up the argument and got shot. The bullet was intended for his mother. In that split second he became a martyr. What mother would imagine that. What mother wants that. What mother can live with that.For any woman who has been or is, a victim of domestic abuse, please ~ please ~ please get help. There are agencies, shelters, pastors, counselors, FRIENDS - real friends that don't smile and say words that tickle your ears - who help with this issue. Listen to them. They care. There are always warning signs. The first berating dialogue, the first raised fist. Leave. They don't need you; they will find another victim. You cannot change them. Just leave. Please, just leave.