Aside from the more obvious ties to me, there is another one, a stealth link. I have been collecting the tacky, kitschy St. Labre Indian School plastic figurines and other items, now, for a little over two decades. I have studiously avoided the jewelry, and stuck to the napkin holders, wall plaques, and dolls, because the cheap and vulgar pieces really do say a lot about the way people have, even in the recent past, seen Injuns. IMO the little plastic pieces of trash are an important piece of our history -- as important as the human detritus -- and almost equally deserving of preservation.
I'm only part Native American -- not quite close enough to the original bloodline to claim any real or binding tie. Pop is the last in this family to be able to have any legal status with any tribe -- and he can't find documents, anyway, since Great-Great-Grandma left the tribe (we are led to believe it was Iowa), converted to Christianity, and "became white", never to look back again. Any filial and tribal links were severed, deliberately and completely.
Still, my brother's sons are slightly more than 1/4 red by way of their (again, raised white) mother (for all their blond hair and blue-grey eyes), and deserve to understand that part of their heritage. It isn't all "noble savage" or NewAge "spirit guide" stuff. And there's a lot of cultural clash still happening just below the surface, occasionally rising to visibility.
Family members have indicated that they think I'm peculiar for collecting these crude artefacts. Well, actually, they just think I'm peculiar, and that the collection is one aspect of it. But most do want to avoid thinking about the embarrassing parts of our history. I want people to look closely at them. Not only do I have the St. Labre School trinkets, but I have gathered a veritable museum of illustrations,
dolls, plaster-of-Paris statuettes, and so on in which the Savage is depicted as less Noble and more "ugh". One of my friends compares it to her African-American auntie's collection of "Pickaninny Art" pieces.We collect them to remind people that our history -- even recent history -- is full of ignorance, even when it's of the well-meaning variety.
I don't know enough about my own family to say, with an absolute certainty, where we were from. All I know is where I am from, and that my culture stems from a peculiar blend of mostly untraceable elements. And so, knowing little, I dig and scrounge and save what I can, so that others may have the opportunity to learn, to remember.
And I'm not Dee Brown. I don't pretend that every member of a minority in this land is therefore automatically a victim of somebody else's greed or malice. Also, I refuse to believe that there's anything inherent in an entire group of human beings who once peopled this continent to cause them to live in misery. Sometimes it just takes a while to adjust to a new day. I don't even believe that every failure of a tribal society is the fault of having been forced to live on a rez.
There's no room for pointing fingers and laying blame.
Still, neither do I believe that everybody must wholly assimilate in order to survive. You don't have to "become white" to get rid of historical humiliation. You just have to accept your own life for what it is, and do your damnedest to stand up for yourself.
Granted, I'm not much of a one to talk. I depend upon family to keep me from harming myself. But that's what family is supposed to do. They try to keep us sane.
window decal, still on its backing sheet
-- print registration was off, which is
why the image is blurred
Which brings me back to my St. Benedict Joseph Labre. He was a "Fool for Christ", a sacred clown, as it were. His madness was believed to bring him closer to a holy truth. It is not an easy path. Deeper truth does not rest alongside the clear and open thoroughfares.
And, that's why we keep collecting the evidence of our own weak foolishness. We make the path less even, less smooth, so others can scrape their knees, stumbling upon their own hidden truths.
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