Eighty years ago, the world gathered from the ashes of great conflict to say: Never again shall we walk the path of destruction. Out of that promise, the United Nations was born—a fire meant to guide humanity toward peace, justice, and the dignity of all peoples.
Today, I stand before you not only as Kanipawit Maskwa, but as one voice among countless Indigenous peoples who have carried the laws of balance, kinship, and sacred responsibility since time immemorial. Our teachings tell us: askîy, the earth, was never meant to carry cruelty. The rivers do not ask where we come from before giving us drink. The pine tree does not deny its branches to any bird in need of rest. Only we, as human beings, forget this truth.
If the United Nations is to carry its name with honor into the next 80 years, it must be more than an institution of governments. It must be a living lodge fire where nations of every kind—large and small, old and new—are heard and respected. It must become a circle that uplifts, not silences; that heals, not divides.
So I call to you, leaders of the world: return to the heart of your own most sacred ways. Draw upon the prayers, the wisdom, the songs, the silence that connect you to the Great Mystery. Let that sacred center guide your decisions. Without it, politics is noise; with it, politics becomes medicine.
The kêkiwêwak, our old ones, say: to honor another is to honor ourselves; to lift another is to lift the world. May your words in this chamber rise like sweetgrass smoke, carrying a promise that the next 80 years will be different—rooted in respect, balance, and wâhkôhtowin, kinship among all peoples.
The world waits for your courage. The children wait for your choices. The ancestors wait for your honesty. May we walk as one circle, not for a season, but for generations yet to come.
Mîkwêc, thank you.
—Kanipawit Maskwa 
John Gonzalez
