Since I wouldn't want to make assumptions about Peshe, let me tell
a story about a woman that shows how truths can sometimes affect
people. She was married to a white farmer who owned some land on a
reservation that his family had bought during the allotment years.
I forget whether she was a full teacher or a teacher's aid, but she
worked with Indian children at the school.
When she was about 40, she began to scream hatefully at her husband
that all the Indians' problems were the white people's fault and
eventually did some time in a mental institution. They said she'd
had a nervous breakdown. Later, she got out, divorced her husband
and became more deeply and successfully involved in Indian
education.
Now I heard this story from the husband, and yet, I had to
sympathize with the wife. During the conversation, the husband
related how he used to tease his Indian neighbor about being a
lazy, dumb, old Indian and that neighbor never minded, he said. He
also mentioned the trouble his sons had been in, but after all,
what can you expect from Indian kids growing up on the reservation,
he said.
So, what I suspect is that this man spent about 20 years causing
his wife a lot of stress and emotional abuse. At some point she
realized that she was not inferior, just because he treated her as
if she were. She realized she was not to blame for the troubles
that her sons went through. Who knows what she was reading; maybe
she came into contact with some AIM people or some feminists.
All the rage that had been building up for 40 years came out
against her white husband. She said everything started as the
white people's fault, and you know what? That's the truth.
It was hard for her to accept, especially having a white husband.
And it's hard for white people to accept too. But I think both
Indians and non-Indians must accept it in order to get past the
stages of disbelief, anger and blaming and get into the stage of
recovering. Maybe understanding of an unpleasant truth parallels
the grief process.
Once we have all accepted this awful truth, we can get on with the
rest of our lives. However, I think it's reasonable to expect some
residual effects of previous feelings. For example, I still cry
when I dwell on the deaths of certain loved ones who died years
ago. And some things will still make me angry if I dwell on them.
So, I hope we can be understanding when we experience some residual
anger on the part of others, or the mourning for things that have
been lost. Otherwise, it's almost like denying that there was ever
a cause for those feelings. We become like the farmer in the
story, unable to comprehend his own wife's feelings, and could be
deprived of associations with Native people as a result.
Well, we can't change the past. But we can work for the present
and future. White people may want to make some kind of
retribution, but there's a limit to what we can do and there are
some areas where trying to help would only worsen the situation.
The bulk of the work, I'm afraid, is up to Native Americans
themselves. Poverty, alcoholism and political fragmentation on the
reservations are their problems. No one else can solve them.
So what can white people do? Mainly I think our role should be
supportive of whatever ideas Native people are trying. We can
vote wisely (like, don't vote for David Duke). We can support
Native American economics by buying Indian-made arts, crafts and
products without becoming traders who compete against Indians. We
can make sure that our local schools educate students about Native
American history and present cultures. If we do become interested
in anthropology or linguistics, we can pursue our interests in ways
that share the benefits with Native peoples. This is what Mary's
daughter is hoping to do.
-krista