In response to Dave's message about Evelyn Eaton's books, I was glad to read
his appreciation for her work. One day I happened to pick up one of her
books,"The Shaman and the Medicine Wheel". Paragraph three of Chapter 1 hit me
like a brick, since it seemed to speak of all that I have felt for so long.
You see, I am of mixed blood heritage [Ojibwa and French-Canadian]. Most of
the Indian people I meet have become friends of mine, but some reject me
because I didn't grow up on the "rez", so I can't know what it's really like.
And my white, non-Indian friends look at me rather strangely, when I tell then
about the work I do, and my goals in life, which are less than materialistic,
and therefore don't fit in with theirs. So I guess I have a foot in both
worlds, not really belonging to either. Even though I didn't grow up on the
"rez" I was still raised rather traditionally by my Dad, lived in near-poverty
conditions [no heat, no car, scrapping by week to week, eating "commissary"
canned foods, and in school subjected to the bigotry of other less fortunate
than I. I say "less fortunate" than I, since I wouldn't trade my childhood
with anyone else's, since it was such a pure, loving environment I was raised
in.] This is why the following passage from Eaton's book struck me so:
"Mixed bloods have a rough time, within and without. Often there
is no legal proof of genes, only word of dead mouths, our own
conviction, instinctive reactions and inner certainty. We may
think we know who we are. Others don't, and sometimes we don't
either, except that we are born to serve as bridges between
peoples and races, and who, on either side, cares deeply for a
bridge, except to cross it?"
Just a personal reflection on a Sunday afternoon....
Deb