Saturday, January 17, 2015

My Native Blood

I have some native in me.

I didn't want to make a claim that I had native blood without knowing for sure. So I had a DNA test done. Overall I'm a mutt, pure and simple. But mixed in there is something ancient. Something tribal.

I have some native in me.

I come from a people that followed a herd. The animal gave them everything. Food, shelter, tools, lessons about life. In the old days, before the dominant society took away their freedoms, my people were nomadic. Now they ranch. Live in one place. But still retain the connection to their four legged, furry relatives.The old ways aren't completely gone.

I have some native in me.

I come from a people that, in the old days, lived in lodges made of poles connected at the top, and widening into a large circle where it meets the ground. Tanned hides were used for the coverings, until lighter materials were brought by the encroaching settlers. They were easy to set up, easy to take down, perfect for a nomadic life.

I have some native in me.

In days long before my time, my ancestors roamed free across a land unmarked by borders. Soon, strangers came. At first they were welcomed, traded with, occasionally fought with, but tolerated. Later, a flood of these strangers started building fences. Dividing up the land. Making my ancestors way of life harder and harder. But they adapted. My ancestors fought back, and they died. There were too many invaders. They couldn't stop the tide.

I have some native in me.

Eventually the land was gone. Claimed by people that didn't respect it. Didn't respect the creatures of it. Didn't respect the sacred sites. Not to long ago my ancestors were forced to assimilate into the dominant culture. Children as young as two or three years old were taken from their parents and sent to boarding schools. They were stripped of their traditional clothes and given clothing of the dominant society. They were punished for practicing their ceremonies, punished for speaking their language. They were taught to fit in with the masses. When they were returned to their parents seventeen years later, they no longer knew the old ways. They could not speak their language. They no longer knew their culture. The dominant culture did everything they could to assimilate my ancestors, make them forget how things were. Make them forget who they were.

I have some native in me.

But some of my ancestors held on to the old ways. They believed that everything around them that the creator had given them had a soul. That everything was interconnected. They believed in many different spirits. Moon, Sun, Ice, Fire. All of the elements had a spirit. They hid their drums and their flutes and their sacred relics. They practiced their ceremonies in secret. Remembered their sacred songs. They persevered. Even when the dominant society collected their drums, clothing, sacred items and tools and burned them in great, flaming piles. My ancestors persevered.

I have some native in me.

In more recent times, in just the last fifty to a hundred years, my recent ancestors fought for recognition from the governments that had tried to destroy them. They fought and were recognized as a sovereign nation. They formed governments of their own and work hard to preserve the language and culture of the people. They are still discriminated against. Still marginalized. Even though their ancestors...my ancestors...were the first people to live in those lands thousands of years in the past, they still fight for the rights of that land, air and water. They fight to bring back the herds that provided so much. They fight to bring back the culture because they know it was a better way to live on the planet. With respect. With honor. With culture.

I have some native in me.

As I learn more about this culture, I am filled with pride and curiosity. I want to know more, learn more about this part of my heritage. I want to learn to play the drum. Sing the songs. Carry the culture forward for my children. I want to track down which tribe I am from, because although there are different languages, traditions and cultures, all the tribes are all lumped into one ethnic group.

I have some native in me.

Though I live in a dominant culture now, I am being awakened to my genetic makeup. In the past, some of my ancestors would deny being native. To pass in the dominant culture because it was easier than facing discrimination and teasing for who they were. I'm guessing that is why I never knew that I have some native blood.

But I have some native in me. Truth.

Probably not what you expect. I am a descendant of people of the Sami tribe. The first people in the far north of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia. They followed the reindeer herds and like the Lakota in America, used every part of it. They were there before the Vikings. They lived in Laavus, which looked like tipis. They sang chanting songs called joiks. (Pronounced yokes) They lived with nature, and so believed in the animal spirits, the lessons they could learn from them, and saw similar attributes in themselves.

The biggest difference between the Sami and the Lakota seems to be location. Otherwise the history and the cultures are very similar.

So yes. I have some native in me. First Nation blood from across the Atlantic. I wonder if there is genetic memory? That would explain the connection I feel to the Lakota people specifically. Of course, my paternal line is still being traced, and may end up with some First Nations of Turtle Island as well. But a genetic memory would explain a lot to me. Why I feel connected to a group of people with traditions not my own.

Are we the sum of our parts? Is there genetic memory that can call to me from across the years, making me want to learn the cultures of a people that are my blood descendants? Mysteries. Every question I learn an answer to holds more mysteries. 

The thing is, we all come from somewhere. Whether you want to look far into the past and see where your ancestors lived thousands of years ago, or if you only want to believe where your people came from in the past few generations. The truth is, we all came from somewhere else. Native or Non-Native. Full bloods or "breeds". Black. White. Yellow. Red. Brown. Purple. Green. Doesn't matter.

We are all of one race. Human. There will always be those with minds closed and no ears to hear that believe that their skin color defines them. That where a person is born defines what group of people that child can identify with. The closed mind will believe that all others who are different are bad and out to get them. The closed mind will build walls, real and imagined, to separate themselves from the "others". The closed minds will continue to oppress and be oppressed, because they cannot see past skin color.

But I believe we can do better as a species. We are capable of higher thinking. We are capable of seeing not just skin color, but the ideas of the minds and hearts contained within. We are capable of determining who a person is based on their beliefs. But it is hard to do. Harder for some than others. It takes time, patience, and an open mind. But the rewards of taking that time, having that patience, far outweigh the trouble of the process. Will there still be racism and bigotry? Yeah, probably. Because that is how we are wired. Visual clues show different colors. But I still hold out hope for humans, even against the obviously overwhelming odds we face, that we can come together as a people, and as Sitting Bull, Leader of the Oglala Lakota, once said, see what sort of future we can make for our children.