Two University of Nebraska Press authors, two essayists, two books on different journeys but walking the same path.
Craft, Community and the Art of the Essay
The Cherokee Word for Water
I grew up within in a large extended Cherokee, Lenape, Seneca family, with lots of cousins, grandparents and great-grandparents, with roots in Oklahoma. Great-grandma could fix a meal to feed fifteen of us and I loved to sit beside her coal black stove, listening to her stories. I’m the granddaughter of sharecroppers, and I was born to a teenage mother and father in 1953. When I was young, we were poor—but we had water.
Having water meant we always had plenty to eat. We had fresh running water to rinse, soak and simmer pots of pinto beans and black-eyed peas. In the summer when rainfall was not plentiful, since the water table was usually high, we could turn the hose on to soak the apple and peach tree and their fruit fed us in return.
There was water for pie baking, and when the sun seared overhead water to mix with Kool-Aid to freeze into popsicles. Home canned goods must be put up in hot, sterilized jars and we had water for boiling before we used them. We had water to wash our hands before pressing a tortilla on a hot skillet, and it was clean and safe to drink.
When no one else believed in them, they believed in each other.
Set in the early 1980s, the story of The Cherokee Word for Water begins in a small town in rural Oklahoma where many houses lack running water. The film tells the story of a tribal community joining together to build a waterline by using traditional Native values of reciprocity and interdependence and is told from the perspective of Wilma Mankiller and Charlie Soap, who join forces to battle opposition and build a 16-mile waterline system using a community of volunteers. In the process, they inspire the townspeople to trust each other, to trust their way of thinking, and to spark a reawakening of the universal indigenous values of reciprocity and interconnectedness. This project also inspired a self-help movement in Indian Country that continues to this day.
“The Cherokee Word for Water” is dedicated to Wilma Mankiller’s vision, compassion and incredible grace, and tells the story of the work that led her to become the Chief of the Cherokee Nation. The film was funded through the Wilma Mankiller Foundation to continue her legacy of social justice and community development in Indian Country.
Yellow Medicine Review: A Journal of Indigenous Literature, Art, and Thought
“Remember that I am just a woman who is living a very abundant life. Every step I take forward is on a path paved by strong Indian women before me.”
—Wilma Mankiller
From our grandmothers and aunties and sisters to the women who write stories, lead states, and sit as poet laureate for the United States, we turn to Native women for their strength, wisdom, and leadership.
“Oh woman
Remember who you are
Woman
It is the whole earth.”
“The Blanket Around Her”
—Joy Harjo
I’m honored to have my work included.
10 of my favorite places in the US where you can experience Native American cultures responsibly
Talk to me and I’ll tell you about my husband recalling how unfamiliar he felt when he first met me and found himself the only non-Indian person among American Indians. Blending our lives (and later raising our children) helped me gather opportunities where he could begin to understand and learn about Native lifeways.
You will notice that the title of the original article says culture. It ought to read cultures, reflecting the fact that Native American people are of many tribes, Nations, cultures, languages and histories.
I greatly enjoyed researching and writing the article and I’m thankful for the invitation to take my readers into Native America to visit the thriving lifeways of a continuing land and people.
Tending the Fire: Native Voices and Portraits (University of New Mexico Press)
I’m honored to have my work and portrait included.
Tending the Fire by photographer Christopher Felver with an Introduction by Linda Hogan and a foreword by Simon J. Ortiz, celebrates the poets and writers who represent the wide range of Native American voices in literature today. In these commanding portraits, Felver’s distinctive visual signature and unobtrusive presence capture each artist’s strength, integrity, and character. Accompanying each portrait is a handwritten poem or prose piece that helps reveal the origin of the poet’s language and legends.
Featured authors include: Francisco X. Alarcón; Sherman Alexie; Indira Allegra; Paula Gunn Allen; Crisosto Apache; Annette Arkeketa; Jimmy Santiago Baca; Dennis Banks; Jim Barnes; Kimberly L. Becker; Duane Big Eagle; Sherwin Bitsui; Julian Talamantez Brolaski; Lauralee Brown; Joseph Bruchac; Annette Saunooke Clapsaddle; Elizabeth Cook-Lynn; Jonny Cournoyer; Alice Crow; Lucille Lang Day; Susan Deer Cloud; Ramona Emerson; Heid E. Erdrich; Louise Erdrich ; Pura Fé; Jennifer Elise Foerster; Eric Gansworth; Diane Glancy; Jewelle Gomez; Rain Gomez; Sequoyah Guess; Q.R. Hand, Jr.; Joy Harjo; Allison Hedge Coke; Travis Hedge Coke; Lance Henson; Trace Lara Hentz; Inés Hernández-Avila; Charlie Hill; Roberta Hill; Geary Hobson; Linda Hogan; LeAnne Howe; Andrew Jolivétte; em jollie; Joan Naviyuk Kane; Maurice Kenny; Bruce King; Sharmagne Leland-St.John; Chip Livingston; Charly Lowry; James Luna; Lee Marmon; Molly McGlennen; Russell Means; Deborah Miranda; Gail Mitchell; N. Scott Momaday; Catherine Nelson-Rodriguez; Linda Noel; dg nanouk okpik; Simon J. Ortiz; Laura Ortman; A. Kay Oxendine; Juanita Pahdopony; Evan Pritchard; Mary Grace Pewewardy; Ishmael Reed; Martha Redbone; Bobby J. Richardson; Ladonna Evans Richardson; Barbara Robidoux; Linda Rodriguez; Wendy Rose; Kurt Schweigman; Kim Shuck; Cedar Sigo; Leslie Marmon Silko; Arigon Starr; James Thomas Stevens; Inés Talamantez; Luci Tapahanso; Nazbah Tom; Cecil Taylor; Rebecca Hatcher Travis; David Treuer; Terra Trevor; Quincy Troupe; John Trudell; Gerald Vizenor; Elissa Washuta; Floyd Redcrow Westerman; Orlando White; Kim Wieser; Diane Wilson; Elizabeth A. Woody.
Children of the Dragonfly: Native American Voices on Child Custody and Education (The University of Arizona Press)
I’m honored to have an excerpt from my memoir, Pushing up the Sky, included.
Children of the Dragonfly, edited by Robert Bensen, is the first anthology to document this struggle for cultural survival on both sides of the U.S.-Canadian border. Through autobiography and interviews, fiction and traditional tales, official transcripts and poetry, these voices— Seneca, Cherokee, Mohawk, Navajo, and many others— weave powerful accounts of struggle and loss into a moving testimony to perseverance and survival.
Included are works of contemporary authors Joy Harjo, Luci Tapahonso, and others; classic writers Zitkala-Sa and E. Pauline Johnson; and contributions from twenty important new writers as well. They take readers from the boarding school movement of the 1870s to the Sixties Scoop in Canada and the Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978 in the United States. They also spotlight the tragic consequences of racist practices such as the suppression of Indian identity in government schools and the campaign against Indian childbearing through involuntary sterilization.
Invoking the dragonfly spirit of Zuni legend who helps children restore a way of life that has been taken from them, the anthology explores the breadth of the conflict about Native childhood.
The People Who Stayed: Southeastern Indian Writing After Removal (The University of Oklahoma Press)
The People Who Stayed: Southeastern Indian Writing After Removal
edited by Geary Hobson, Janet McAdams, and Kathryn Walkiewicz
Native literature, composed of western literary tradition is packed into the hyphens of the oral tradition. It is termed a “renaissance” but contemporary Native writing is both something old emerging in new forms and something that has never been asleep. The two-hundred-year-old myth of the vanishing American Indian still holds some credence in the American Southeast, the region from which tens of thousands of Indians were relocated after passage of the Indian Removal Act in 1830. Yet, a significant Indian population remained behind after those massive relocations.
I'm honored to have my work included in the first anthology to focus on the literary work of Native Americans with ancestry to “people who stayed” in southeastern states after 1830.
I'm honored to have my work included in the first anthology to focus on the literary work of Native Americans with ancestry to “people who stayed” in southeastern states after 1830.
This volume represents every state and every genre, including short stories, excerpts from novels, poetry, essays and plays. Although most works are contemporary, the collection covers the entire post-Removal era. While many speak to the prospects and perils of acculturation, all the writers bear witness to the ways, oblique or straightforward, that they and their families are connected and honor their Indian identities despite the legacy of removal.
Unraveling the Spreading Cloth of Time: Indigenous Thoughts Concerning The Universe
"All the tribes say the universe is just the product of mind... It fits perfectly with the quantum. Indians believe the universe is mind, but they explore the spiritual end of it, not the physical end." —Vine DeLoria Jr.
I'm honored to have my work included.
This brilliant anthology explores quantum physics in relation to Indigenous peoples' understanding of the spiritual universe. Includes writings from 40 Native writers from various nations, and I'm honored to have my work included.
Contributing authors include, Suzan Shown Harjo, Gabriel Horn, John Trudell, Dean Hutchins, Lois Red Elk, Suzanne Zahrt Murphy, Amy Krout-Horn, Jack D. Forbes, John D. Berry, Sidney Cook Bad Moccasin, III, Trace A. DeMeyer, Clieord E. Trafzer, William S. Yellow Robe, Jr., Bobby González, Duane BigEagle, Carol Wille`e Bachofner, Lela Northcross Wakely, Georges Sioui, Keith Secola, Mary Black Bonnet, Kim Shuck, Trevino L. Brings Plenty, Dawn Karima Pe`igrew, Stephanie A. Sellers, Natalie bomas Kindrick, Basil H. Johnston, Barbara-Helen Hill, Alice Azure, Phyllis A. Fast, Doris Seale, Terra Trevor, Denise Low, Vine Deloria Jr., Jim Stevens, ire’ne lara silva, Susan Deer Cloud, Odilia Galván Rodríguez, Tiokasin Ghosthorse, Tony Abeyta, MariJo Moore.
Contributing authors include, Suzan Shown Harjo, Gabriel Horn, John Trudell, Dean Hutchins, Lois Red Elk, Suzanne Zahrt Murphy, Amy Krout-Horn, Jack D. Forbes, John D. Berry, Sidney Cook Bad Moccasin, III, Trace A. DeMeyer, Clieord E. Trafzer, William S. Yellow Robe, Jr., Bobby González, Duane BigEagle, Carol Wille`e Bachofner, Lela Northcross Wakely, Georges Sioui, Keith Secola, Mary Black Bonnet, Kim Shuck, Trevino L. Brings Plenty, Dawn Karima Pe`igrew, Stephanie A. Sellers, Natalie bomas Kindrick, Basil H. Johnston, Barbara-Helen Hill, Alice Azure, Phyllis A. Fast, Doris Seale, Terra Trevor, Denise Low, Vine Deloria Jr., Jim Stevens, ire’ne lara silva, Susan Deer Cloud, Odilia Galván Rodríguez, Tiokasin Ghosthorse, Tony Abeyta, MariJo Moore.
Unraveling the Spreading Cloth of Time
Edited by MariJo Moore and Trace A. DeMeyer
Birthed from Scorched Hearts: Women Respond to War
Author MariJo Moore contacted me about an anthology she was putting together, a gathering of women's voices steeped with themes of war, and asked if she could include a selection from my memoir Pushing up the Sky.
I'm honored to announce the chapter “Fall, 1998” in Pushing up the Sky, along with a new introduction, now shares company in Birthed from Scorched Hearts: Women Respond to War, which includes work by an impressive tapestry of women's voices.
Award-winning author MariJo Moore, asked women writers from around the world to consider the devastating nature of conflict—inner wars, outer wars, public battles, and personal losses and battles on the home front. Their answers, in the form of poignant poetry and essays, examine war in all its permutations, from Ireland to Iraq and everywhere in between.
With contributions from well-known authors including Linda Hogan, Paula Gunn Allen, Carolyn Dunn, Kim Shuck, Terra Trevor, and numerous others, this moving anthology encompasses a wide range of voices.
A page from Birthed from Scorched Hearts: Women Respond to War
by Terra Trevor
On a crisp December morning in 1984 under a bright blue sky in Seoul, Korea, a wide-eyed baby was readied to leave his homeland. Dressed in a pink bunting to keep out the winter chill, one-year-old Kook Yung was carried aboard Korean Airlines, and he set off for a new life; adoption in the United States. When the plane landed at Los Angeles International airport that boy was placed in my arms and he became my son.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. My story begins in 1953, shortly after I was born, when the end of the Korean War set the course of my life, because the ending of the war signaled the beginning of inter-country adoption of Korean-born children.
After the war everything changed. Within a country with a long-standing national tradition of pure blood lineage, shared ethnic identity and culture, suddenly there were mass numbers of orphaned children. Many of these babies and children were mixed race, and were introduced to a largely unwelcoming homogenous Korea.
Single mothers were shunned. Crowded orphanages operating with scarce resources were unable to accommodate the high numbers of orphans. In response, South Korea turned to alternatives to find a solution and Korean adoption was born officially in 1954.
Today a growing number of families in Korea have begun to adopt and the country is hoping to eventually eliminate the need for adoption outside of Korea. Yes, the Korean people do adopt, I know this because I was invited to speak on a panel, and it was comprised of four American adoptive mothers and four Korean Nationals who are adoptive mothers, at the KAAN Conference in 2006, held in Seoul.
Yet in 1984, when I adopted my son, Korea was a nation still struggling to come into its own.
I had a profound knowing-feeling when the telephone rang the day we received our adoption referral. I was outside watering sprouting morning glories, and before I answered the phone, I knew it would be the adoption agency telling me about my soon-to-be child.
The first time I held one-year old Kook Yung, immediately I understood something was far beyond ordinary about him. He was a calm and centered baby, in a way that let you know he possessed a great amount of wisdom. His presence made skeptics believe in angels.
I didn’t know that my son’s life would be short and that he would live to be only fifteen, and that I was being called for the highest motherhood duty. Yet if I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t change a thing. The amount of joy Kook Yung brought me outweighs anything else, and has made me whole.
Copyright © 2008 Terra Trevor. All rights reserved.
What Thanksgiving Means To This Mixed-blood American Indian
On the day known as Thanksgiving I gather with some of the people I love best and we share a Friendsgiving feast. And yet for me, it's important to honor and hold space for the fact that many Native American people do not participate in any of form of Thanksgiving. I find it ironic and sad that Native American Heritage month and Thanksgiving have been braided together in the month of November. Thanksgiving, as it has come to be observed in America, is a time of mourning for many Native people. It serves as a reminder of how a gift of generosity was rewarded by theft of land and seed corn, extermination of many Native people from disease, and near total elimination of many more from forced assimilation and as a reminder of 500 years of betrayal.
My family is mixed-race. I’m of Cherokee, Lenape, Seneca, German descent, and my immediate family was formed through marriage, adoption, kinship care, love and community. We have family members and loved one who immigrated to the United States.
My loved ones tell me when they came to the US, everything was new—the foods, the smells, the language and the people. They felt alone and out of place while learning to become fluent in English in those first early years. But most of all they were thankful for the privilege of gaining American citizenship. A sense of belonging began to take hold. They were encouraged to assimilate, but they were not forced to let go of their traditions, language and cultural heritage. From that deep place of thankfulness, a respect for the holiday known as Thanksgiving was born.
This is in contrast to my American Indian ancestry, identity, mindset and Native community belonging. Thanksgiving and the myths associated with it have done damage and harm to the cultural self-esteem of generations of Americans by perpetuating cultural misappropriation and stereotyping that leave harmful images and lasting negative impressions in Native American and non-Native minds.
My immigrant family members and intimates know all too well the effects of assimilation. It gave way for thoughtful examination of cultural differences with emphasis on renewal and survival. Never having been washed in the American tradition of the First Thanksgiving falsehoods, there is no standard set linking it to a day in 1621. No myths carried about roasted meats and Indians sharing a table with Plymouth settlers.
I’m well into grandmotherhood now, doing my best to learn what I need in order to grow right as an elder and to do my part to make better for the next seven generations. I'm not opposed to the tradition of gathering for a Thanksgiving meal with family and friends, yet it must be done respectfully. I tell stories to the children and parents in my community. They ask me many questions about Native Americans and Thanksgiving. I tell them about the Wampanoag people. About this tribe of Southern Massachusetts and how their ancestors ensured the survival of the Pilgrims in New England, and how they lived to regret it, and that now the tribe is growing strong again.
I tell them Native people have a history largely untold and that gathering to give thanks for the harvest did not originate in America with the Pilgrims, it was always our way. I read books to the kids written by Native American authors who are working to make sure that Native lives and histories are portrayed with honesty and integrity.
I tell them Native people have a history largely untold and that gathering to give thanks for the harvest did not originate in America with the Pilgrims, it was always our way. I read books to the kids written by Native American authors who are working to make sure that Native lives and histories are portrayed with honesty and integrity.
And so the histories of Native People are painful to hear, still they need to be told and retold and never forgotten by generations of Americans.
But I tell this this story today for ALL people in America, with the hope that through truthful knowledge of the past we will not allow another group of people in America to have their life ways taken from them, to have their ethnicities and cultures erased, to be exterminated and reach near total elimination, even again.
This article was first published in a slightly different form in the Huffington Post and is reprinted at Matador Network.
Copyright © 2016 Terra Trevor. All rights reserved.
Why Native-inspired Halloween costumes devalue our Indigenous cultures
On Halloween I was sitting on the front porch watching Scrub
Jays dart from branch to branch. The evening shadows melted into liquid dusk. Then
I lit candles in the pumpkins we carved and waited for the parade of neighbor
kids Trick-or-treating. There was a rush of footsteps and
laughter. I chatted with parents, ooh and aah over the costumes. One kid was
dressed as a purple dinosaur. Another was made to look like grapes wearing a
green shirt covered with green balloons. And there was a tiny girl with two long black
braids, wearing faux-leather, dressed as Pocahontas and her dad
was wearing a headdress.
I love Halloween, but my thoughts are heavy
saddlebags. It was
unintentional, of course. This father was unaware that it is disrespectful to
dress his daughter and himself as Native American. I could shrug
it off as cultural borrowing and overlook cultural
appropriation, after
all, he means well. But I can’t. As Native American people we are a culture—not
a costume. I understand that wearing
a culture as costume is not intended to hurt most of the time. However, the
fact of the matter is that it does.
Native social justice
activists have been speaking out against Native American themed costumes for
decades, yet companies still produce them, and stores still order and sell
them. When I contacted a number of the costume supply stores in my city and
state the owners I spoke with said that their Pocahontas, Indian Brave and Big Chief costumes
are top sellers, and they would lose business if they didn’t stock and sell
them. Some people buy and wear these costumes out of naiveté and others in a blatant disregard, disrespect and
irreverence.
Our Native
American regalia is a tradition for our Native people, and the wearing of it is
a distinctly indigenous activity. It is imbued with spiritual meaning and an expression of culture and
identity. For Native dancers, not only is the act of dancing that expression, but
also the wearing of dance regalia is a visible manifestation of one's heritage.
Often
the beadwork contains personal motifs that reflect the dancer’s tribe and
frequently beadwork is created by a family member and given as a gift to the
dancer. Feathers receive utmost respect. Regalia is one of the most powerful symbols of
Native identity and is considered sacred. This is one reason why it is inappropriate to
refer to regalia as a "costume."
However we (by we, I mean American society) are stuck in a
mode where too many people tolerate imitating American Indian people. These
activities are indicative of an ignorant society that refuses to see American
Indian people as people.
Most damaging is the Halloween " Pocahottie” and “Sexy Indian Girl” costumes
which have gained popularity. I can begin by
referencing statistics about how many Native women are sexually assaulted (one
in three). The rate of sexual assault is more than twice the
national average, stressing the point that dressing up and playing Indian is
not a harmless activity.
When a costume or sexiness is based on race, ethnicity,
or culture, human people are being extracted for the sake of making the wearer
of the costume feel powerful, or exotic. There
is also cultural appropriation. It involves members of a dominant group
exploiting the culture of a less privileged group and equals belittling the
lived experience and ethnicity of those who have birthright.
Native American people are one of the most underrepresented and
misunderstood minorities in all of North America. Too often the First Americans
are depicted as existing during colonization and western expansion, as if belonging
only in the past, but not as people in todays world. No myth about Native people is
as prevalent, or self-serving as the myth of the vanishing Native, also known
as “the vanishing Indian” or “the vanishing race.” Therefore it’s no surprise so many feel that wearing Native
American-alike regalia as costume isn’t offensive—because in their mind Indians no longer exist.
In my mind the problem stems from the fact that America has a long
history of regarding its Native people as profoundly different and somehow not
human. By traditional western values Native peoples are viewed as creatures of
whimsy that have disappeared into history, making their images, cultures and
manner of dress and regalia available for the taking.
Copyright 2020 Terra Trevor. All Rights Reserved.
Author’s Note: As a writer of mixed descent, including Cherokee, Lenape, Seneca, I neither presume to speak for any sovereign nation nor identify with the dominant culture.
It’s still important to challenge any recognition of Columbus Day
In mixed-race America all of our individual histories and cultures matter, yet since 1937, on the second Monday in October, the day Congress named Columbus Day, Christopher Columbus was allowed to ride herd.
My son bounds from his classroom. Eyes filled with brown warmth, he peeks out from under a cap of shiny dark hair, holding a milk carton cutout fashioned into the shape of a boat, with two smaller makeshift vessels trailing behind. Out of the corner of my eye I see children clutching newspaper sailor hats and Columbus’ Ships coloring pages.
With his eyebrows curved in question marks my sons tells me that there is also a song about Columbus, sung to the tune of Oh, My Darling Clementine. And then we both laugh at the absurdity. It’s both funny, and not funny.
We are a mixed-race, mixed-blood Native American family. My son has older siblings and he knows there is controversy surrounding Columbus and his Day of recognition. But at age seven it’s not his job to carry the weight. As his mother that responsibility belongs to me.
Columbus Day first became a federal holiday in the United States in 1937. After strong lobbying from the Knights of Columbus, President Franklin D. Roosevelt proclaimed Oct. 12, 1937, as the first Columbus Day. Over the years the holiday celebration has become controversial: The arrival of Columbus to the Americas — followed by the European settlers — heralded the beginning of devastating movements against indigenous people and the demise of their histories and cultures.
As a European colonizer he set the genocide in motion. The story of Columbus’ discovery and the indigenous people he misnamed as “Indians” continues to affect us with a duel identity misunderstood by mainstream America.
For more than five hundred years Native peoples have been measured and have competed against a Columbus fantasy over which they have no control.
Others argue that Columbus should not be honored for discovering North America because he only went as far as some islands in the Caribbean and never got as far as mainland America. Yet for many Americans, the Columbus myth has become real and a preferred substitute for reality.
Aside from the fact that I’m of Cherokee, Delaware, Seneca descent, I am something else too — I am a woman. Rape of indigenous women of color became rampant and was tolerated by Columbus. A reported comrade, Michele de Cuneo — who wrote of a relation between himself and a Native female gifted to him by Columbus — supports this information. There are also reported accounts of Native infants being lifted from their mothers’ breasts by Spaniards and smashed by rocks. The further I dig into history more horrific acts are revealed. One account reports that he wrote in his journal on October 14, 1492, three days after being greeted with kindness by the Lucayan people (the original inhabitants of the Bahamas): “I could conquer the whole of them with fifty men and govern them as I please.” As I try to disentangle truth from history I wonder why we celebrate the man in such heroic terms if so much about him needed to be hidden.
Efforts to eliminate or rename Columbus Day in various states and cities have met strong resistance. In my hometown of Los Angeles, City Council voted to allow city employees to take Cesar Chavez Day as a paid holiday instead of Columbus Day, a move that prompted much objection. As a compromise, the council allowed city employees to celebrate either holiday. Finally the state eliminated the Columbus Day holiday as part of a budget-cutting measure, yet city and county offices still observe it. The Unified School District does not. Then in 2017 the Los Angeles City Council voted to eliminate Columbus Day from the city calendar, siding with those who view the explorer as a symbol of genocide for native peoples in North America and elsewhere in the world. Yet the day remains a paid holiday, regardless of the name.
In 1992, the city of Berkeley was the first to declare the day Indigenous Peoples Day. More recently Seattle, Minneapolis, Albuquerque, Portland, St. Paul, Minneapolis, and Olympia, Washington followed suit. South Dakota celebrates Native American Day instead, and Hawaii and Alaska, which also have large indigenous populations, don’t recognize it at all.
Although alternatives exist, millions of Americans still prefer to celebrate Columbus Day and New York City’s Columbus Day Parade continues to thrive. To understand how deeply ingrained our U.S. collective modern fantasy of Christopher Columbus has become I turned to Google. A search for “Columbus activities for children” revealed 4,750,000 results (in 0.64 seconds) with lesson plans, songs, and teaching ideas. It is clear this compliant Columbus image, edited and embellished, is much preferred…and why not? His fantasy is colorful and brings something exotic to celebrate, like a visit to Frontierland.
First published at Matador Network
My son bounds from his classroom. Eyes filled with brown warmth, he peeks out from under a cap of shiny dark hair, holding a milk carton cutout fashioned into the shape of a boat, with two smaller makeshift vessels trailing behind. Out of the corner of my eye I see children clutching newspaper sailor hats and Columbus’ Ships coloring pages.
With his eyebrows curved in question marks my sons tells me that there is also a song about Columbus, sung to the tune of Oh, My Darling Clementine. And then we both laugh at the absurdity. It’s both funny, and not funny.
We are a mixed-race, mixed-blood Native American family. My son has older siblings and he knows there is controversy surrounding Columbus and his Day of recognition. But at age seven it’s not his job to carry the weight. As his mother that responsibility belongs to me.
Columbus Day first became a federal holiday in the United States in 1937. After strong lobbying from the Knights of Columbus, President Franklin D. Roosevelt proclaimed Oct. 12, 1937, as the first Columbus Day. Over the years the holiday celebration has become controversial: The arrival of Columbus to the Americas — followed by the European settlers — heralded the beginning of devastating movements against indigenous people and the demise of their histories and cultures.
As a European colonizer he set the genocide in motion. The story of Columbus’ discovery and the indigenous people he misnamed as “Indians” continues to affect us with a duel identity misunderstood by mainstream America.
For more than five hundred years Native peoples have been measured and have competed against a Columbus fantasy over which they have no control.
Others argue that Columbus should not be honored for discovering North America because he only went as far as some islands in the Caribbean and never got as far as mainland America. Yet for many Americans, the Columbus myth has become real and a preferred substitute for reality.
Aside from the fact that I’m of Cherokee, Delaware, Seneca descent, I am something else too — I am a woman. Rape of indigenous women of color became rampant and was tolerated by Columbus. A reported comrade, Michele de Cuneo — who wrote of a relation between himself and a Native female gifted to him by Columbus — supports this information. There are also reported accounts of Native infants being lifted from their mothers’ breasts by Spaniards and smashed by rocks. The further I dig into history more horrific acts are revealed. One account reports that he wrote in his journal on October 14, 1492, three days after being greeted with kindness by the Lucayan people (the original inhabitants of the Bahamas): “I could conquer the whole of them with fifty men and govern them as I please.” As I try to disentangle truth from history I wonder why we celebrate the man in such heroic terms if so much about him needed to be hidden.
Efforts to eliminate or rename Columbus Day in various states and cities have met strong resistance. In my hometown of Los Angeles, City Council voted to allow city employees to take Cesar Chavez Day as a paid holiday instead of Columbus Day, a move that prompted much objection. As a compromise, the council allowed city employees to celebrate either holiday. Finally the state eliminated the Columbus Day holiday as part of a budget-cutting measure, yet city and county offices still observe it. The Unified School District does not. Then in 2017 the Los Angeles City Council voted to eliminate Columbus Day from the city calendar, siding with those who view the explorer as a symbol of genocide for native peoples in North America and elsewhere in the world. Yet the day remains a paid holiday, regardless of the name.
In 1992, the city of Berkeley was the first to declare the day Indigenous Peoples Day. More recently Seattle, Minneapolis, Albuquerque, Portland, St. Paul, Minneapolis, and Olympia, Washington followed suit. South Dakota celebrates Native American Day instead, and Hawaii and Alaska, which also have large indigenous populations, don’t recognize it at all.
Although alternatives exist, millions of Americans still prefer to celebrate Columbus Day and New York City’s Columbus Day Parade continues to thrive. To understand how deeply ingrained our U.S. collective modern fantasy of Christopher Columbus has become I turned to Google. A search for “Columbus activities for children” revealed 4,750,000 results (in 0.64 seconds) with lesson plans, songs, and teaching ideas. It is clear this compliant Columbus image, edited and embellished, is much preferred…and why not? His fantasy is colorful and brings something exotic to celebrate, like a visit to Frontierland.
First published at Matador Network
Copyright © 2020 Terra Trevor. All rights reserved.
Author’s Note:
As a writer of mixed descent, including Cherokee, Lenape, Seneca, I neither presume to speak for any sovereign nation, nor identify with the dominant culture.
American Indians In Children's Literature
A small boy walked over to a display of books in the library. “Wait a minute.” He whispered to his mother, “I want to look at these Indian Books.” The boy’s eyes were blue luminous water as he thumbed through the pages of one book and then another.
His mom came over to where we were standing and skimmed the row of books. “How about this one?” She asked. I tensed my shoulders and tightened my toes, she was holding a copy of The Education of Little Tree, a book I liked until I learned more about the author.
“Actually, that might not be the best choice.” I announced.
Prior to his literary career as "Forrest," Carter was politically active for years in Alabama as an opponent to the civil rights movement: he worked as a speechwriter for segregationist Governor George Wallace of Alabama; founded the North Alabama Citizens Council (NACC) and an independent Ku Klux Klan group; and started the pro-segregation monthly titled The Southerner.
“It isn’t? How do you know?” The boy and his mother eyeballed me up and down.
I opened my mouth, closed it and cleared my throat. “Because I’m a writer.” I said. “And my mother is a Children’s Librarian and we’ve read lots of books and have studied the authors and their backgrounds.
Then I offered up my favorite online resources for reviewing children’s books by or about American Indians.
Lucky for me this mother was delighted with my bold offer. She whipped out her phone and linked to the website addresses I gave her, which are the same ones I will share with you here.
I read all the time. I can’t remember ever not reading. Listen to my mother and you will hear tales about me in diapers with a book in my lap. The only goal I had for my children was for them to love reading as much as I do. And I’ve achieved that success. All three were avid readers while growing up. As adults each time they move to a new city the first thing they do is get a library card. They buy books from their local bookstores, volunteer and teach, and contribute to literary.
Reading shapes and changes us. When Native Americans are in children's and young adult literature, it can be difficult to know if the characters in the books are appropriately portrayed from a Native perspective. Equally important is to know about the author so that we can decide if we want that person to influence our children’s lives.
American Indians In Children's Literature By Debbie Reese
Offering critical perspectives of indigenous peoples in children's and young adult books, the school curriculum, popular culture, and society.
His mom came over to where we were standing and skimmed the row of books. “How about this one?” She asked. I tensed my shoulders and tightened my toes, she was holding a copy of The Education of Little Tree, a book I liked until I learned more about the author.
“Actually, that might not be the best choice.” I announced.
Prior to his literary career as "Forrest," Carter was politically active for years in Alabama as an opponent to the civil rights movement: he worked as a speechwriter for segregationist Governor George Wallace of Alabama; founded the North Alabama Citizens Council (NACC) and an independent Ku Klux Klan group; and started the pro-segregation monthly titled The Southerner.
“It isn’t? How do you know?” The boy and his mother eyeballed me up and down.
I opened my mouth, closed it and cleared my throat. “Because I’m a writer.” I said. “And my mother is a Children’s Librarian and we’ve read lots of books and have studied the authors and their backgrounds.
Then I offered up my favorite online resources for reviewing children’s books by or about American Indians.
Lucky for me this mother was delighted with my bold offer. She whipped out her phone and linked to the website addresses I gave her, which are the same ones I will share with you here.
I read all the time. I can’t remember ever not reading. Listen to my mother and you will hear tales about me in diapers with a book in my lap. The only goal I had for my children was for them to love reading as much as I do. And I’ve achieved that success. All three were avid readers while growing up. As adults each time they move to a new city the first thing they do is get a library card. They buy books from their local bookstores, volunteer and teach, and contribute to literary.
Reading shapes and changes us. When Native Americans are in children's and young adult literature, it can be difficult to know if the characters in the books are appropriately portrayed from a Native perspective. Equally important is to know about the author so that we can decide if we want that person to influence our children’s lives.
American Indians In Children's Literature By Debbie Reese
Offering critical perspectives of indigenous peoples in children's and young adult books, the school curriculum, popular culture, and society.
Copyright © Terra Trevor. All rights reserved.
A Small Wardrobe for a Lithe Life: Project 333
Then in 2011, I'd had enough and I joined a community of women and men committed to reducing the amount of clothes we buy and wear. My goal to cultivate a small wardrobe filled only with items I wear regularly led me to Project 333.
Although I frequently purchased items on sale and didn’t have any credit card debt, it occurred to me that I had too many clothes, and I was squandering my time shopping.
I’m moderately minimalistic in other aspects of my life. We grow a garden and I like to cook. The car I drive is an older economy model. I don’t buy a lot of gadgets. My home is decorated in an economical simple style, it’s comfortable and inviting, without a lot of stuff, and it is clutter free. But there was a time when my closet told another story.
In addition to writing, for a number of years I worked in a fashionable corporate environment and I had frequent meetings to attend. I also travel to speak at conferences and lead workshops and had fallen into the trap of thinking I needed a variety of outfits. So at first gaining a collection of clothes and shoes that filled my average-sized closet was fun. Then it became stressful because I had too many choices. Packing for trips had become torture. I prefer to pack light with only a small carryon bag, and I agonized over what to pack because I had a multitude of options.
I had good clothing that fit me well and was of quality. But I also had far more clothing than I needed. And like most people I had my favorites and everything else just hung on its hanger waiting for a turn to be taken out and worn. Although I had begun to edit monthly, giving away things I was not wearing, I still had too much.
I had good clothing that fit me well and was of quality. But I also had far more clothing than I needed. And like most people I had my favorites and everything else just hung on its hanger waiting for a turn to be taken out and worn. Although I had begun to edit monthly, giving away things I was not wearing, I still had too much.
Since my husband, my friends and co-workers shopped too, I decided to allow myself to believe that shopping was an acceptable hobby, as long as I didn’t over spend and kept within my budget. Looking back I’m embarrassed that I let my thinking go haywire.
Currently I’m working from home in a casual environment, and my work wardrobe needs have changed and provide me with the freedom to wear casual clothing. But if I ever return to working in an environment that requires professional wear I will maintain a small core wardrobe for work. Because most of all I've changed. I no longer want or feel the need to have excess.
The Project 333 target is to select 33 items of clothing, accessories, outerwear and shoes to keep in your closet and commit to wearing only those items for 3 months. Clothing worn only at home or exercise wear, underwear and sleep wear, are not included in the 33. However, the guidelines are not set in stone and can be adapted to fit your lifestyle. You can lower or up the number a bit if you prefer. The key point is to learn, reduce consumption and make positive changes.
Still, paring down was painstaking. I had a lot of good clothes that I always planned to wear, but seldom did. I spent days trying things on in order to make decisions. Finally I gave myself permission to let go of three large bags, all items I had formerly worn in the corporate work-world and no longer needed. It was hard because everything fit me, and all of it was good quality. But I didn’t need that many clothes and I no longer had occasions to wear most of it.
It took a lot of doing but I forgave myself for making the mistake of using poor judgment in the past. I reminded myself that since I now know better I will do better in the future. And I’ve reached that success. Today I have a simple, small collection of clothes I enjoy wearing regularly.
But it was a rocky road reaching the good place where I am now. Truth to tell, I participated in Project 333 twice before I finally found my rhythm. The concept of selecting 33 items and boxing everything else up was daunting. I kept wondering if I’d made the right choices, always second-guessing myself. Thinking that perhaps there was a better choice boxed up and I could swap it out.
So when the third round of Project 333 began, I decided not to box up or store any of my clothes other than the things that are seasonal. I gave away everything that I didn't love or didn't fit properly.
When purging initially I took some of my quality clothes to a consignment store to sell, but then I began to understand that I’d rather give my things away and donate to a charity that gives the clothing to women in need who were working in low paying professional office jobs.
Now that I have a smaller collection of clothes I’ve discovered that having less really does mean more. My closet and my clothes no longer overwhelm me. It is easy to get dressed every day. Now I usually find that I have the right outfit for every occasion. And on those rare occasions when I don’t, I do not dwell on it. I’ve learned that it is probably just a “moody” day for me, and it has nothing to do with my clothes. Instead of focusing on clothing lack, I journal write to discover what is lurking in my mind and deal with that.
Now that I have a smaller collection of clothes I’ve discovered that having less really does mean more. My closet and my clothes no longer overwhelm me. It is easy to get dressed every day. Now I usually find that I have the right outfit for every occasion. And on those rare occasions when I don’t, I do not dwell on it. I’ve learned that it is probably just a “moody” day for me, and it has nothing to do with my clothes. Instead of focusing on clothing lack, I journal write to discover what is lurking in my mind and deal with that.
Although I now have less variety in my wardrobe, I’m happier because it includes an outfit or two (or three) to cover all of my basic needs. I no longer follow a strict 33 limit because it feels too restrictive for me. Sometimes I need more, and other times less. Instead, I've opted to have a smaller wardrobe with everything kept inside my closet and my dresser drawers.
My clothes mix and coordinate well, and since I stick with a few basic color combinations I find that everything works with other pieces to create a variety of options.
It makes packing for trips easy.
My clothes mix and coordinate well, and since I stick with a few basic color combinations I find that everything works with other pieces to create a variety of options.
It makes packing for trips easy.
I have less laundry, which is easier for me, and better for mother earth.
I have better educated myself about the horrors garment industry workers face, and my responsibility to the planet.
Our human brain is not wired for a multitude of options. Having lots of choices sounds delightful, but being faced with too many choices is stressful.
I've had a small wardrobe for a few years now, and I no longer think of Project 333 as an experiment in living with less. It has become a lifestyle for me.
Getting dressed is easier for me with less. I no longer spend a lot of time thinking, wondering and worrying about what to wear. I also no longer shop unnecessarily. Most days I’m happy. Happier than I have been in years.
Now that my load is lighter, my thoughts are lighter.
Minimizing and simplifying my clothing has also allowed me to see excess consumption in other parts of my life as well, and to make changes. Before I buy anything or bring a new item into my home, it’s important for me to ask myself:
“How much do I actually need it, in comparison to what it has taken from the planet and from workers, and from others in order to produce it?”
“How long will it last?”
“When and how will I dispose of it?”
The changes I’ve made give me a wide-open field of space and time to write, read, for long walks, to watch the sun rise, and set. To listen and give my full attention when someone speaks to me, to daydream, putter, pray to the earth, rest and renew my spirit.
Now that my load is lighter, my thoughts are lighter.
Minimizing and simplifying my clothing has also allowed me to see excess consumption in other parts of my life as well, and to make changes. Before I buy anything or bring a new item into my home, it’s important for me to ask myself:
“How much do I actually need it, in comparison to what it has taken from the planet and from workers, and from others in order to produce it?”
“How long will it last?”
“When and how will I dispose of it?”
The changes I’ve made give me a wide-open field of space and time to write, read, for long walks, to watch the sun rise, and set. To listen and give my full attention when someone speaks to me, to daydream, putter, pray to the earth, rest and renew my spirit.
Copyright © 2013 Terra Trevor.
Photo credit Beyond Buckskin.com
Follow my stories while I stumble along with simplicity,
downsizing, and journey moderately minimal.
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