Screenshot of Kaê Guajajara's music video “Minha Força” (Ft. Canário Negro & Nelson D) Since a 1994 UN resolution, August 9 has been dedicated to Indigenous Peoples, defined as distinct cultural and ethnic groups whose members descend from the earliest known inhabitants of a geographic location that was later colonized by a now-dominant group. In the Americas, Indigenous peoples have been under threat since the start of European colonization in the 15th century. Their population has been decimated due to foreign diseases, forced labor, displacement for the extraction of resources, and other forms of violence. Today, their way of life, languages, culture, and lives are still at risk due to settler colonialism and violence, climate change, economic and racial discrimination, and cultural assimilation. Many Indigenous women suffer gender-based violence. In the context of our global environmental crisis, Indigenous people are some of the major guardians of flora and fauna. Indigenous peoples make up around 5 percent of the world's population, but protect 80 percent of global biodiversity, a crucial component of mitigating the effects of climate change. Music is a powerful vehicle for artistic expression, identity, emotion, and social change. Here are five songs by Indigenous women and non-binary people from what is now called the Americas — a name derived by Italian merchant and navigator Amerigo Vespucci. To the people who have been on the continent for tens of thousands of years, this geographic region is commonly referred to as Turtle Island or Abya Yala. María Reyna is a Mixe singer from the region of Oaxaca, Mexico. Together with orchestral conductor, composer and pianist Joaquín Garzón Rivera, she released “Orgullosa soy raíz” in 2019. She fuses opera vocals with Jazz and Bolero genres. She sings in different Indigenous languages and in Spanish. In the context of much discrimination and racism towards Indigenous peoples in Mexico, Reyna sings of her pride in being an Indigenous woman in “Orgullosa soy raíz,” which can be loosely translated as “proud of my roots” or “proud to be the root.” Que honor ser Raíz//de culturas ancestrales//ricas y ceremoniales//que desborda este país What an honor to be Root//of ancestral cultures//that are rich and ceremonial//which overflow this country Lido Pimienta, from Barranquilla, Colombia and now residing in Toronto, Canada, has been gaining prominence in the Americas. Identifying as Afro-Colombian and Wayuu, her songs speak of feminism, love, and joy. Her album “Miss Colombia” was among the nominees for best Latin Rock or Alternative album in 2020. “In her music, we can hear elements of cumbia and bullerengue, which are native rhythms of Colombia, together with elements of electronic music, in some cases of synthpop and in other cases of hyperpop or avant-pop,” writes cultural magazine Doble Rodada. In “Nada” (“Nothing”), featuring Bomba Estéreo's vocalist Li Saumet, Lido Pimienta sings of women's suffering. Pimienta wrote of the song: “[Women] carry our pain, like a memory, like an illness, like punch, like wound. … It hurts to be one of us. It hurts when you are of the water, of the sun and the mountain, it hurts when you are not the mainstream one, you have to survive, not live.” Todo lo que yo sentí, todo lo que yo viví Por todo lo que presentí, ya no me queda nada Por todo lo que yo miré y todo lo que ya soñé Por todo lo que te esperé, ya no me queda nada All that I felt, all that I lived through For all that I felt, all that I saw, I have nothing left For all that I looked at and all that I dreamed of For all that I waited for you, I have nothing left Elisapie Isaac is an Inuk singer-songwriter, documentary filmmaker, and activist from present-day Québec, Canada. She wants to sing about the strength and resilience of Inuit communities in the north. She says: C’est vrai qu’on a vécu des choses extrêmement difficiles, mais les gens pensent toujours que les autochtones sont des victimes, mais allez les voir en 2018. Vous verrez la fierté d’un peuple qui travaille tellement fort. Le territoire, la langue, les enjeux sont encore bien là, mais les tambours reviennent. Les jeunes des premières nations réapprennent à les utiliser de façon cérémoniale. Ça va être fort comme guérison. On a de plus en plus l’impression qu’on nous entend et je sentais qu’il fallait que je parle aux gens de chez moi dans une langue qu’ils connaissent. Il fallait que je fasse encore de la musique. It's true that we've been through some extremely difficult things, but people still think that Native people are victims, but go see them in 2018. You will see the pride of a people who work so hard. The land, the language, the issues are still there, but the drums are coming back.