Pronounced: /teemp-see-la/

The moon when turnip seeds ripened. Our Lakota people believe in thirteen moons and one of them is referred to as Thinpsinla Itkahca-wi. This is one way of saying the month of June. In the lateness of spring before summer began and sometimes in the beginning of the warmer summer days, is when we foraged tinpsila. A root plant that was harvested during this time to use during the winter months or on different occasions. This sweet tasting plant right from the earth, was peeled, braided, and dried and hung on the wall. These can be found in many Lakota homes today. 

The process was laborious but it didn’t seem daunting, it was worthwhile work and at the same time pleasant to do. There were stories told, happy memories shared, and lessons to be learned. We remember our people and how they lived in a different time than you or I, and the hardships they prevailed.

Tinpsila are wild turnips grown on the prairies of Lakota lands. Their scientific name is Pediomelum esculentum or Psoralea esculenta.

My grandmother would tell when it was time to gather tinpsila, just as her mother told her and her mother before her. This is how traditions and the meaning of what and how we do things are transferred down, so this is invaluable.

I remember my mother making iced tea and cold meat sandwiches and maybe some fruit then getting her lawn chair and umbrella ready. She’d tell my brother or her brothers to load up the shovels in the early morning on the day of.

I didn’t have the opportunity to go with my grandmother, but my memories come from my mother who shared her stories.

She said they would drive out to areas where they knew they would find patches of tinpsila.

My mother would get out and look and she said our grandma sang a song while doing this, one that she didn’t quite remember.

She would tell us that tinpsila are bashful, they would hide their faces until we found their tiospaye (their family and extended family) and then we would start looking.

She’d say, “here’s one!” A beautiful white blossom with a fuzzy stem standing up straight and tall.

Then we’d find another, then another, and another.

We’d bring digging tools; shovels, post hole diggers, and bags. There was a way to dig them out without disrupting the roots, our parents taught us this.

We’re taught not to cut the roots but to pull the plant back through the earth that was dug, then place what was dug out back into the ground and tamp it down.

We would dig enough to make a couple or a few long tinpsila braids. These could be from 2 feet to 5 feet long, depending on how many you found. 

Mom would tell us not to take all of one tiospaye, but to leave a few so they could regrow the next year. She would say if we took too much or dug them all, they wouldn’t come back.

She spoke of them as if they were alive, like relatives, but this is the way we were taught because in Lakota culture our plant life are our relatives. We are taught to give and pray before we take and to always leave some for the next year.

One summer we went to dig and did not find hardly any. They were scarce and what we found were dried. We were sure it was time, but because of a drought that year, the tinspila did not flourish and were scarce.

We left what was there, so that they could return to the earth and hopefully the following year they would have replenished. Since that time, we have returned every year and have been fortunate to find enough to harvest. We prayed with an offering before we left, as is our way and sometimes this is done beforehand. I don’t know if our people experienced not being able to find any tinpsila in years past or in their time, but I guess I’ll always wonder about that.

This is Lakota culture, a way of life that existed for centuries.

-2019, Wakpala, South Dakota – Corson County