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Native American Literature
A ten lesson unit for upper-level college undergraduates,
focused on the concept of identity in the literature of
America’s indigenous people
Kimberly Connon
The Teaching of Literature
May 2013
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Introduction
This unit is oriented on the thematic of identity in Native American Literature.
It covers various texts, consisting of poetry, song, criticism, history, fiction and
film. The lessons are designed to fit ten 90-minute class periods, which span five
weeks on a Tuesday/ Thursday schedule. It is designed for undergraduate
English majors at the junior/senior level.
This unit would be relevant in courses such as: “Identity and Difference”,
“Multiethnic American Literature”, “Race and Ethnicity in American
Literature”, “Literature, Culture and Environment”, “Native American
Literature”, “New England Literature and Culture”, etc.
Assessing the performance of students in the unit requires the collection of
various in class assignments, such as informal writing and several worksheets.
Students will not be graded on how well they are able to compose an answer to
a question on the spot, but rather on their ability to sufficiently engage in the
material and think critically about it. Each lesson plan in the unit includes an
indication of how students might be assessed. The major assessment for the
unit is a final paper of 5-7 pages in length. The unit plan includes a rubric as
one possible way of assessing the students’ work on this paper.
Required Texts:
● American Indian Literature: An Anthology by Alan R. Velie
● “The Rabbit’s Wish for Snow”
● Trickster: Native American Tales: A Graphic Collection by Matt Dembicki
● Ogimawkwe Mitigwaki (Queen of the Woods) by Simon Pokagon,
Michicgan University Press, 2012 edition
● Legislation & History Handouts: The Indian Removal Act, The Dawes Act,
Andrew Jackson’s Second Address, The Potawatomi Trail of Death
● “Sure, You Can Ask Me A Personal Question” by Diane Burns
● “What You Pawn I will Redeem” by Sherman Alexie
● “This Is What It Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona” by Sherman Alexie
● Ceremony, Leslie Marmon Silko
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Rationale
This unit is designed to be an introduction to Native American Literature.
By studying Native American Literature, students explore complex ideas such
the nature of identity, revision of stereotypes, resistance to colonization,
traditional connection with the land, and the complexity of sovereignty. In
addition to careful consideration of the form, language, and imagery of the
texts, the class will be exploring the cultural context of the works, a focus that is
entirely relevant and necessary when developing an understanding of a genre
of literature that is organized by culture.
The unit will begin with examination of the Native American Oral
Tradition, and will, from that point, gloss over some of the major texts in the
Native American Literature cannon. The lessons are linked together by the
thematic of identity, and they each challenge the students into considering
different ways that the identity of a group of people can be challenged,
cultivated or otherwise affected.
This curriculum is intended to explore the evolution of the Native
American Narrative, and expects to focus on the conflict between the Native
American Peoples and White settlers. We will attempt to explore complex
questions such as: How did/ does the colonization of America affect identity of
our aboriginal peoples? How did/ does the misunderstanding/ stereotyping of
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American Indians affect their lives and identities? How does a connection with
the land shape one’s identity? Why is the identity of an oppressed people
important?
This study of Native American Literature in this course is an opportunity
to reevaluate stereotypes, and to explore a body of literature that is often
neglected. Janette Murry writes in her essay “What is Native American
Literature?”: “The literature of the Native American writer has grown and
matured considerably... Not only must the writer overcome the persistent
stereotypes of the "noble savage" of the previous century, he must also go
beyond the "social misfit" and "cultural conflicts"of the present. He must
achieve a mastery of non-Indian techniques and literary forms and, at the
same time, maintain his Native voice and vision.” These requirements create a
unique body of literature, the study of which allows the reader to nurture a
deeper understanding of a cultural group that is ever changing, yet ever
staying true to their roots.
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Lesson One: Narrative Tales and Introductory Readings
Objectives:
1. Students should interact with the Native American Oral Tradition, the first
Native American Literature.
2. Students should understand that storytelling is a Native American cultural
tradition, and they should experience the difference between the oral
delivery of the tales from their individual reading of them.
3. The class should develop an understanding of the importance of images and
key figures in American Indian Storytelling.
4. Students will understand that cultural identity varies among Native
Peoples, and that tribes have varying backgrounds.
Materials:
● American Indian Literature: An Anthology
● Tribal Compare & Contrast Worksheet
● http://www.native-languages.org/home.htm#list
● Projector and computer set-up
● “The Rabbit’s Wish for Snow” print-outs
Overview:
Before this class, students will have read “The Origin Myth Of Acoma”, “The
Man Who Transgressed a Taboo”, “High Horse’s Courting”, “Awl and Her Son’s
Son” and “The Winnebago Trickster’s Cycle”, all found in American Indian
Literature: An Anthology. They will also read “Rabbit’s Wish for Snow”,
provided as a handout. These stories each come from different tribal
backgrounds, and they each feature different key images. We will discuss the
importance of images in these tales, and explore how the imagery weaves
together with oral storytelling to create a deeper importance to the listener/
reader. (Students will also have read the “Introduction to Tales” and the
introductions to each tale provided alongside the primary texts in the
anthology.)
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. The professor will dim the lights in the classroom. Students will listen to
“The Rabbit’s Wish for Snow” video
http://www.pbs.org/teachers/connect/resources/5682/preview/. (10-15
minutes)
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2. A brief informal writing assignment will follow the reading-- what was the
difference between hearing the story read and reading it yourself? What
did you hear in the story that you may have missed while reading it? What
did you read that you might have missed had you only heard it? Does
hearing the tale outside change the way you receive it? Consider the
introductory readings-- what is the import of an Oral Narrative? (10
minutes)
3. Students will be divided into five groups, and will each focus on one of the
stories.. They will be asked to read one page of their assigned text aloud
within the group. (10 minutes)
4. Students will then underline particularly poignant images in their texts,
and will discuss how those images help a listener to create meaning while
hearing the story.How do strong images help a listener to follow the story?
What do those images indicate to the listener? What meaning does an image
establish in a story, especially one that is imbued with deep cultural
meaning? (15 minutes)
5. Class reconvenes. These questions are addressed to the entire class for
discussion. (15 minutes)
6. The professor will pull up
http://www.native-languages.org/sioux-legends.htm on the projector. Here,
there is information on specific “Mythological Figures” that appear in
Narragansett legends. “The Rabbit’s Wish for Snow” is a Narragansett tale.
The instructor will show examples on the site of how specific images and
characters who appear repeatedly in the story the cass read have specific
connotations in the Narragansett culture. This also will provide an example
of how to navigate the site, which students will need for their homework.
Students should be able to build an understanding through the use of this
website that in Native American texts, images are often pre-loaded with a lot
of meaning. This understanding will be expanded upon as they complete
the homework worksheet, which will also allow the instructor to access
their understanding upon collection during the following class period. (15
minutes)
7. The instructor will introduce the homework assignment, assign topics, and
answer any questions about navigating the website as needed. (5- 10
minutes)
Assessment:
The informal writing will be collected (immediately after completion). This will
serve as a reading check, as well as a form of assessing if the students are
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thinking deeply about the Oral Tradition of Native American Literature, and
storytelling as it contrasts with reading.
Homework:
Students will be asked to complete the worsheet handed out in class by using
http://www.native-languages.org/home.htm#list, which asks them to explore
the website, as well as read two tales made available there. Additionally, they
are to read “Raven the Trickster”, “Rabbit and the Tug-of-War”, “When Coyote
Decided to Get Married”, “Paupualenalena, Wizard Dog of the Waipi’O Valley”,
and “Mai and the Cliff-Dwelling Birds” from Trickser, a collection of traditional
American Indian tales converted into a graphic text format.
Works Consulted:
The Rabbit's Wish For Snow. Perf. Tchin. Circle of Stories. PBS Teachers. Web.
<http://www.pbs.org/teachers/connect/resources/5682/preview/>.
"Narragansett Culture and History." Native Americans: Narragansett Tribe
History
and Culture. Native Languages of the Americas,. Web.
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Lesson Two: Modern American Indian Storytelling
Objectives:
1. Students should engage with the assigned tales from Trickster and consider
the ways in which the Oral Tradition of Native American culture has
altered.
2. The class will consider how the form of the “graphic storyteller” is different
from both the oral storyteller and a written version of the tales.
3. The group will engage with questions about the identity of the story in
Native American cultures, considering how we create meaning differently
by receiving the story in differing formats.
4. Individually, the students will construct an argument as to whether the
graphic format of these stories contribute to the preservation of cultural
storytelling, compromise cultural storytelling, or create a new identity for
the Native American legends.
Materials:
● Copies of Trickster
● Small drums and other noisemakers, such as rain sticks or tambourines
● 5x7 index cards
● A classroom Moodle, Blackboard, Wikispace, etc.
Overview:
Before this class, students will have read “Raven the Trickster”, “Rabbit and the
Tug-of-War”, “When Coyote Decided to Get Married”, “Paupualenalena, Wizard
Dog of the Waipi’O Valley”, and “Mai and the Cliff-Dwelling Birds”. These stories
have been read in the form of a comic. Students will reconstructing the graphic
into the form of an oral narrative in groups by creating a storytelling script.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. The class will be asked to take out their homework-- the tribal comparison
chart from the last class. With these completed worksheets in front of them,
the class will be asked to identify images or symbols they see in the graphic
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3.
4.
5.
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tales, and as a class, we will spend a few minutes discussing what
connotation those symbols carry in various tribes according to the
information gathered as a class. The worksheets will then be collected.
(10-15 minutes)
Students will be divided into five groups, each of which will be assigned one
of the stories from Trickster. They will be asked to create a storytelling script
from the comic, and will be reminded to think about how to convey images
to their listeners. Their scripts may take the form of skits, or of traditional
stories with one speaker. Each group will receive certain noisemakers from
the teacher to be used to enhance their stories. The groups will elect
“readers” who will deliver the story to the class in the form of a competition.
(20 minutes)
The class will arrange their seats into a semi-circle for the storytelling
competition, which the professor will mediate, maintaining a respectful
atmosphere. Each group will have the chance to retell their comic as an oral
narrative. The group will have a blind vote at the end to decide best story
retelling. Prizes may be awarded at the teacher’s discretion. (30 minutes)
The class will turn to a discussion about the form of the comics vs. the form
of the oral narration. How do the two modes represent the characters
differently? How is our understanding of the tale modified by the differing
forms? What type of identity do we understand from the storyteller in the
comic form? What about in the oral form? What type of identity to we
construct about the characters by hearing or reading the story in either of
these forms? (15-20 minutes).
Desks will be moved. The instructor explains the homework. (5 minutes)
The professor will hand out 5x7 index cards. On it, students will construct an
argument as to whether the graphic format of these stories contribute to the
preservation of cultural storytelling, compromise cultural storytelling, or
create a new identity for the Native American legends. This is an exit ticket,
and once the student is finished they may hand it in and leave. (10 minutes)
Assessment:
The exit tickets will serve as assessment for this lesson. The students’
arguments should indicate that they understand the two forms to be similar or
different, and that they are grappling with how the different forms convey
subject matter differently and how this affects the identity of the characters
and the storytellers.
Homework:
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Students must read Chapters 1, 2, 6 & 9 of O-gi-maw-kwe Mit-I-gwa-ki (Queen of
the Woods) by Simon Pokagon, and must compose a 300 word forum post (on
the course’s Moodle, Blackboard or Wikispace) considering what they found
the most compelling about the reading. These posts are due two days before the
next class, as students are also required to submit two responses to classmate’s
posts on the forums. This purpose of this is to engage students in dialogue about
the text prior to classroom discussion and without teacher interference.
Lesson Three: Queen of the Woods
Objectives:
1. Students should consider Pokagon’s objectives for publishing this novel.
2. The class will analyze the identity of the speaker, and identify key
characteristics, etc that the speaker assigns value to as elements of his
identity and the identity of his people.
3. Students will analyze the identity of important figures in a text (such as the
narrator, characters, or author) and consider the import of the expression
of identity in a sociohistorical context.
4. Students will discuss how society affects the identity of a person or a group
of people, and will identify where Pokagon reflects this in his writing.
Materials:
● Copies of Queen of the Woods
● Legislation & History Handouts: The Indian Removal Act, The Dawes Act,
Andrew Jackson’s Second Address, The Potawatomi Trail of Death
● Lecture Notes: Indian Removal
● “Queen of the Woods and Historical Texts” worksheet
Overview:
Before this class, students will have read Simon Pokagon’s O-gi-maw-kwe
Mit-I-gwa-ki (Queen of the Woods). This novel was the second published in
English by a Native American, and it was the first text that focused primarily on
the identity of the Native people. Phillip Deloria writes in the forward to the
2001 edition: “It was intended to be a testimonial to the traditions, stability, and
continuity of the Potawatomi in a rapidly changing world. Read today, Queen
of the Woods is evidence of the author’s desire to mark the cultural, political,
and social landscapes with a memorial to the past and a monument to a future
that included the Pokagon Potawatomi as distinct and honored peoples.” The
class period is devoted to considering Pokagon’s motivations for composing
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Queen of the Woods in the context of the treatment of American Indians in the
1800s, as well as examining concepts of identity in the novel and discussing the
importance of identity in these times.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. The instructor will have written the following prompt on the board: “Why is
identity important? How can identity be molded, or even compromised, by the
individual or their surroundings? If outside factors affect an individual or a
group's identity, does that make the newly formed identity more or less
valuable? Why?” Students will respond to the prompt, which will later be
collected in lieu of attendance. (10-15 minutes)
2. Students will be asked to underline two sentences from their response that
they would like to share with the group. The class will then participate in a
“once around”. Each student will read their two sentences with no
discussion or commentary in between. (5-10 minutes)
3. The instructor will open a class discussion by posing the question: How do
you think Pokagon would have responded to this prompt, after reading
Queen of the Woods? (20 minutes)
○ If the class discussion does not pick up easily, the following
questions may help to elicit responses. Encourage students to point
to specific selections from the text as they answer.
- How does Pokagon portray his people?
- How does he portray those who do not share his heritage?
- Does Pokagon feel that the identity of the Potawatomi
people as a group is endangered? How do we know this from
the text?
4. The instructor will offer a brief overview of the history of Indian Removal in
the 1810s-1850s, and the legislation by Andrew Jackson that was
instrumental to the actions of the US. (10 minutes)
5. After the lecture, students will be split into four groups. Each group will be
assigned one of the accompanying historical texts to discuss. The groups will
each receive a copy of their assigned text, as well as the “Queen of the Woods
and Historical Texts” worksheet. The groups will be instructed to read their
assigned texts together and complete the worksheet as a group. (20 minutes)
6. The class will turn come back together, and each group will have a chance
to briefly discuss their secondary text and the answers that they came up
with in response to the questions. (10 minutes)
7. In-class writing and group worksheets will be collected, followed by class
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dismissal.
Assessment:
Both the in-class writings and the group worksheets will provide a chance for
the instructor to assess the students’ engagement with the text. The in-class
writings should indicate how the students have grasped the concept of identity,
while the group answers (both in written form and in class discussion) should
help the instructor to evaluate how the student has drawn connections
between the novel and the historical texts.
Homework:
Students are to read the selection from N. Scott Momaday’s House Made of
Dawn that is supplied in their anthology. They should be instructed to gloss the
text in preparation for the next class, a skill that students at the 300-400 level
presumably already have.
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Lesson Four: Character in House Made of Dawn
Objectives:
1. Students will engage with “Francisco's Bear Hunt” from House Made of
Dawn as a coming-of-age-text, and will identify the key indicators from the
story which allow readers to categorize it that way.
2. Students will make inferences from the text. They will develop claims and
back them up with textual evidence.
3. The class should develop an understanding of how the author uses the
thematic element of character to make meaning in the text.
Materials:
● American Indian Literature: An Anthology
● Question Cards
Overview:
N. Scott Momaday’s House Made of Dawn is largely credited with sparking the
resurgence of Native American Literature. The novel won the Pulitzer Prize for
Fiction in 1969. The assigned portion of the text is a short story about the main
character’s grandfather, Francisco, as he hunts a bear. This section of the text
is ripe with the cultural concept of a deep respect for other life forms that is
common among American Indian tribal religions. Francisco’s actions are in line
with the framework of traditional Indian thought, in which the hunting and
killing of animals does cause a fissure in the spiritual connection between man
and animal if it is performed traditionally and appropriately.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. In-class writing: make a list of words and phrases that describe Francisco. (5
minutes)
2. The students will be instructed to mark up their copy of “Francisco’s Bear
Hunt” from House Made of Dawn by underlining key words/ phrases that
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4.
5.
6.
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indicate the elements of Francisco's character that they just listed. (10
minutes)
Students will pair up and discuss how the passages they underlined
influenced their understanding of who Francisco was. Very explicitly
instruct students to draw from the actual text to make claims about how
Momaday’s text influences the reader’s understanding of the character of
Francisco. (15 minutes)
○ On the board, write: The text says “_________”, so the reader can infer
_________ about Francisco.
Ask student pairs to use the “formula” written on the board to make
inferences from the text. Tell the students to fill the first space with an quote
from the text. Instruct them to fill the second space with their conclusion.
Ask students to create three to five of these sentences. They should be
prepared to hand them in at the end of class. (15 minutes)
The class will come together for discussion. What do we know about
Francisco? Students will be asked to share one of the sentences they created,
and point to textual evidence to back up what they have to say. Other
students will be encouraged to respond, either to agree, disagree or
elaborate. To encourage discussion, ask: How does Francisco's culture
define his character? How does his personality define his character? How
does this rite of passage define him? (15 minutes)
After the discussion, students will arrange their desks into a circle for a mini
Socratic Seminar, which the instructor will not participate in. A student
moderator will be appointed, and will be given question cards with the
following questions on them:
○ How does heritage impact individual identity?
○ How are “race”, “culture” and “heritage” different?
○ Where do individuals get their race? Where do individuals get
their heritage? Where do individuals get their culture?
○ How does Momaday portray race, culture and heritage differently?
○ How do we learn these things by reading Francisco's story?
Students will answer the questions “popcorn” style-- after answering, the
answerer chooses who will be asked the next question. The moderator
poses the questions and maintains order. The questions may be asked
more than once. (30 minutes)
In-class work will be collected as class is dismissed.
Assessment:
The collected in-class work of sentences that make inferences from Momaday’s
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text will help the teacher to assess how the students performed at making
inferences from examining a single character.
Homework:
Students are required to read the poems by Joy Harjo, Linda Hogan and Geary
Hobson and Diane Burns (they will also read Burns’ poem “Sure You Can Ask
Me a Personal Question”, which will be provided as a handout).
Lesson Five: Stereotypes and Poetry
Objectives:
1. Students will comprehend that the stereotypes that American Indians face
color their literature, and they will identify these stereotypes in the poetry.
2. Students should practice proficiency at interpreting poetry, with a focus on
discussing the form of a poem.
3. Students should make connections between the theme of stereotypes and
the artistic maneuvers that the author makes in terms of form to punctuate
their message about those stereotypes.
Materials:
● Poems (in American Indian Literature: An Anthology by Alan R. Velie)
● Copies of “Sure, You Can Ask Me A Personal Question”
● Poetry Analysis Graphic Organizer
Overview:
The assigned poems deal specifically with American Indian Stereotypes.
The class is centered around “Sure, You Can Ask Me A Personal Question”.
Students will be working with poetry to find connections between the form and
the messages the authors vocalize about sterotypes.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. The class will read the assigned poetry out loud. The teacher will ask for
volunteer to read “Sure, You Can Ask Me A Personal Question”. The class will
also read 5-6 other poems aloud (they are, overall, quite short). The students
may volunteer to read whichever poem they found most interesting. (10-15
minutes)
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2. The class will work together to point to stereotypes in the poems. As the
students offer examples, the instructor will compile a list on the board. The
class should spend some time sifting through the poems (those that were
read aloud and those that were not), identifying stereotypes however they
appear in the texts. (15 minutes)
3. After the list is made, the professor should begin going through it with
students. Addressing each listed stereotype individually, have the students
point out where they see it in the text. Examine each stereotype, as a group,
in context, and discuss what they author is offering to the discourse on that
stereotype. Are they claiming it? Denouncing it? Sneering at it? Laughing it
off? Providing insightful commentary? (30 minutes).
4. After discussing the stereotypes in the poems, turn to the poetics. Have the
students use the Poetry Analysis Graphic Organizer to work with the poetics
of one poem individually. (15-20 minutes)
5. Discuss as a class: where do you see the form of the poem punctuating a
message about stereotypes we discussed? Ask for examples. If there is
trouble initiating discussion, ask questions about, stresses, rhythm,
disrupted rhyme schemes, etc. (10-15 minutes)
6. Allow a few moments for any final comments/ observations.
Assessment:
Poetry Analysis worksheets will be collected to measure how well students
were able to engage with the form of the poems. The instructor should also be
closely moderating class discussion to see how well students are able to make
connections between the topic of stereotypes and the form of the poems.
Homework:
Students are required to read the short stories “This is How You Say Phoenix,
Arizona” and “What You Pawn I Will Redeem” by Sherman Alexie. They should
be instructed to write a forum post in answer to the question: What do these
short stories say about the identity of their characters? This posting will help
them to come prepared for the next class, and it will also act as a reading
comprehension check for the instructor.
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Lesson Six: Sherman Alexie Short Stories
Objectives:
1. Students should engage with the stories, analyzing the way that Alexie talks
about identity and the way that he shared Native American history to
create meaning.
2. The class should be able to draw conclusions about how displacement
affects the identity of a group of people.
3. Students should draw conclusions about how the author uses varying
techniques to manipulate the reader’s experience of the story.
Materials:
● “This Is What it Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona” and “What You Pawn I
Will Redeem”
● Native Identity Logs
● Abbreviated Native American Timeline copies
Overview:
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. Students are asked to highlight what they deem to be the most striking
sentence in What You Pawn I Will Redeem. The class does a once-around,
each reading their lines-- no pauses or comments in between. (10 minutes)
2. The instructor hands out copies of the Native Identity Log, and divides the
class into two halfs. One side is assigned What You Pawn I Will Redeem,
while the other half is assigned This Is What It Means to Say Phoenix,
Arizona. Students are to re-read their assigned stories individually, filling
out the log as they go. (30-35 minutes)
3. Students are instructed to find a partner from the opposite group, creating
pairs in which each student read a different story. The are to share their
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5.
6.
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logs, and discuss how Alexie used the references they wrote down to
manipulate the reader’s experience. How was the author able to affect the
reader by using these moments? (15 minutes)
Group discussion in which the class shares their group work. (15 minutes)
The instructor will hand out copies of the Abbreviated Native American
Timeline, and go over them. The class will take some time to discuss how the
events listed affect our understanding of what Alexie’s characters went
through. (15 minutes)
In-class writing: referencing the Alexie stories we read today and the events
on the timeline, what conclusions can we draw about how displacement
affected the identity of American Indians? 915 minutes)
In class writings and Native Identity Logs will be collected as class is
dismissed.
Assessment:
Both the in-class writings and the Identity Logs will provide a chance for the
instructor to assess the students’ engagement with the text. Both of these
assignments should indicate to the teacher how deeply the student was able to
engage with the text. The logs in particular should showcase the student’s
understanding of how the author makes meaning in the text.
Homework:
Students are to read the first half of Leslie Marmon Silko's Ceremony for the
next class.
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Lesson Seven: Ceremony
Objectives:
1. Students should be able to draw connections between Silko’s Novel and
Huey’s video.
2. Students should reflect on their reading to pose interesting questions to
discuss.
3. Students should engage in an active discussion based on their own
questions about the reading.
Materials:
● Copies of Ceremony
● Projector/ Computer
○ Video: “America's Native Prisoners of War” by Aaron Huey
Overview:
The video’s description reads: “Aaron Huey's effort to photograph poverty in
America led him to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, where the struggle of
the native Lakota people -- appalling, and largely ignored -- compelled him to
refocus. Five years of work later, his haunting photos intertwine with a
shocking history lesson in this bold, courageous talk.” In this lesson, the
students watch this video and talk about depictions of Indian life in the novel.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. Begin class by showing the Aaron Huey video. (15 minutes)
2. Distribute copies of the Socratic Seminar preparation sheet with
open-ended questions. Ask the students to fill out the questionnaire, which
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will help them to form open ended questions to ask during the seminar, as
well as stimulating their thinking about what they have worked on so far.
(10 minutes)
3. Have a fishbowl discussion: “One half of the class is in the ‘center’ facing
each other and discussing the text, while the remainder is on the ‘outside’
observing and listening. Members of the outer circle take notes ... reserve
an empty ‘hotseat’ for those in the outer circle who really want to jump in to
make a contribution and then leave. At the end of the conversation, the
outer circle can share their observations. The groups then switch to allow
the outside group a chance to discuss.” (http://nwabr.org) Appoint a
moderator, and allow the students to use the open ended questions they
prepared to guide the discussion. Allow 25 minutes for the first group to be
inside, then switch. (50 minutes)
4. Pass around a stapler, and have students staple their notes from the outside
of the circle to the worksheet they filled out. Collect these as students move
desks back.
Assessment:
The socratic seminar notes and preparation sheets should be sufficient for the
teacher to gauge how the students were participating. It is important to also be
listening and paying attention to the discussion to see how well they are
making connections.
Homework:
Students are to finish reading the novel for the next class.
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Lesson Eight: Ceremony (part 2)
Objectives:
1. Students understand Ceremony in the context of Joseph Campell’s
monomyth structure, and be able to locate the specific features of the
monomyth structure in the novel.
2. Students should make a claim about how the monomyth structure is
affected by the non-linear structure of time in the novel.
Materials:
● Copies of Ceremony
● Copies of monomyth image
Overview:
Sharon Madison offers helpful insight into teaching Ceremony, a challenging
novel due to it’s loose structure. She states: “As Campbell traces the underlying
journey of the hero through the myths of many cultures, we come to
understand human nature. It is an archetypal journey that reflects culture,
literature, religion, anthropology, and psychology. And it may appear to
individuals in the unconscious world of dreams or to entire groups of people
and their epic histories.” Using the monomyth structure to analyze Ceremony
can help to add structure to the novel and to provide a path of entry into the
discussion of Tayo.
The Monomyth:
● Stage One: Departure/Separation (the Call to Adventure, the Refusal,
Supernatural Aid, Crossing the First Threshold, “the Belly of the
Whale — Rebirth in the Worldwide Womb)
● Stage Two: Initiation (the Road of Trials, meeting with the Goddess,
woman as Temptress, Atonement with Father, Apotheosis, the
Ultimate Boon)
● Stage Three: The Return (Refusal to the Return, Magic Flight, Rescue
from Without, Crossing the Return Threshold, Master of Two Worlds,
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Freedom to Live)
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. Free-write: How is this novel structured? What elements of fiction do we see
in the novel? (10 mins)
2. Distribute the monomyth image, explaining that this is one possible way to
interpret the structure of the novel. Explain the structure to the students,
and work with them to find the first example as to how Ceremony fits into
the structure. (20 mins)
3. In pairs, “students should find examples of Tayo’s progress through each of
the stages , separation, initiation, and return. . . match examples from the
text to each stage. Tayo’s journey will not match perfectly”(Madison). (30
mins)
4. Class discussion/ sharing examples. How does looking at Ceremony through
the monomyth structure help readers to understand the importance of
Tayo’s journey? (30 mins)
Assessment:
Assessing students in this class period will be participation-based. By walking
amongst working pairs and monitoring the large class discussions, an
instructor should be able to gauge how well the students are grasping the
material.
Homework:
The instructor should assign the unit’s final paper at this time. A rubric is
available on page ---.
Works Consulted:
http://www.learner.org/workshops/isonovel/teacherslessonplans/Madisonpage.
html
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Lesson Nine: Smoke Signals screening
Objectives:
1. Students will actively view Sherman Alexie’s film Smoke Signals
2. Students will take notes during the screening, responding to questions
about the film.
3. The film will serve as a “wrap-up” activity for the unit, recalling several of
the topics we have covered in this unit.
Materials:
● Smoke Signals DVD
● Projector/ DVD Player setup
● Copies of Smoke Signals question sheets
Overview:
Sherman Alexie summarizes his movie, writing:
"Set in Arizona, Smoke Signals is the story of two Coeur d'Alene
Indian boys on a journey. Victor Joseph is the stoic, handsome son of an
alcoholic father who has abandoned his family. Thomas Builds-the-Fire is
a gregarious, goofy young man who lost both his parents in a fire at a
very young age. Through storytelling, Thomas makes every effort to
connect with the people around him. Victor, in contrast, uses his quiet
countenance to gain strength and confidence.
When Victor's father dies, the two men embark on an adventure
to Phoenix to collect the ashes. Along the way, Smoke Signals illustrates
the ties that bind these two very different young men and embraces the
lessons they learn from each other."
The purpose of watching this film is to allow it to serve as a pathway through
which to review many of the themes we have discussed in the unit. The film
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covers displacement, identity, heritage and stereotypes. Smoke Signals is the
film adaptation of “This is What it Means to say Phoenix, Arizona”.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
The film is 89 minutes long, making it just fit in a single class-time screening.
Distribute the questions, and instruct students to take notes based on them as
the movie plays, advising them that they will be collected.
Assessment:
Answers to the film questions will be collected during the next class.
Homework:
Students are to take their notes from the class period and use them to answer
the questions formally. Additionally, they are to bring a draft of their unit
project to the next class.
Works Cited:
Alexie, Sherman. "Smoke Signals- The Movie." FallsApart.com.
Smoke Signals Film Discussion Questions. Philadelphia: One Book, 2011. PDF.
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Lesson Seven: Smoke Signals talkback/ Final Paper Workshop
Objectives:
1. Students should have the opportunity to discuss their experience viewing
Smoke Signals.
2. Students will participate in a draft workshop in which they work on their
final papers. They should offer constructive evaluation of their peers’ work.
Materials:
● Copies of Peer Workshop sheets
Overview:
The main purpose of this class period is to have students work together to
workshop their final paper drafts. Though no final assignment sheet is
included with this unit plan, the final project would be a paper, about 5-7 pages
in length, in which the students address one of the texts that have been
covered in the unit. At this level, the students should be expected to make and
support a valid argument about the text.
Class Breakdown:
This lesson is designed for a 90-minute class.
1. Begin class by opening up discussion on Smoke Signals. Have students offer
answers from their homework in order to start the discussion. (25 minutes)
2. Distribute copies of the Peer Workshop sheets. Give clear instructions: The
students are to find a partner, and switch papers with them. Following the
instructions on the handout, they should read their partners paper and
offer sufficient constructive feedback. At the end of class, students are
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expected to give the draft and the review sheet back to their partner, so that
they can use the feedback. Stress to the students that they must turn in the
feedback sheets that their partner did for them with their final paper.
Failing to do so will affect their grade. This should help the instructor to get
the feedback sheets in order to assess the effectiveness of the workshop. (1
hour)
Assessment:
Peer review sheets are handed in with the final papers. They should help the
instructor to assess if the draft improved since the workshop, and should also
indicate how well the students were able to offer constructive feedback.
Ideally, the paper itself should allow for assessment of how well the students
met various objectives of the course.
Tribal Compare and Contrast Worksheet
Name:_________________________________
This worksheet is designed to help you explore the differences between two Native
American Tribes. Please visit http://www.native-languages.org/home.htm#list. On
this webpage, you will find a long list of different Native American Cultures. Please
fill out this chart using the website provided by looking up the ________________ tribe
and the _________________ tribe. Additionally, please read one story/ tale/ legend from
the tribe, summarize it in the space provided, and note any key images you see
appearing in the story.
Tribe’s Name
Language Spoken
Location of Peoples
3­4 Cultural Facts about the
Tribe
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Story Title & Brief Summary
Key Imagery in Story
Rabbit’s Wish for Snow
A Narragansett Legend
Let me tell you about Rabbits. Long in the way time past time, rabbits looked
very different than they did today. Long in the way time past time, rabbits had
very short ears. They had even very long tails. They had long, straight arms
and long straight legs. Very different than the way rabbits look today.
One day, Rabbit was out. It was Spring-time. Looking for something to do, and
something to eat, as rabbits are always looking for something to eat, he came
upon a willow tree that had fresh little shoots in it. It made him so hungry. He
wanted to go and taste some of those shoots but it was high up in the willow
tree and you know yourselves that rabbits are not good tree climbers!
So Rabbit decided to eat some of the grass and play around. But he thought to
himself, ‘I would like to play in the snow’. He remembered that his
grandmother told him that if you can wish for something hard enough it can
happen. So Rabbit started to wish for it to snow, so he started to dance. He
started to pray for it to snow and so he started to dance. And he started singing
his song, ‘Oh how I wish it would snow; Oh how I wish it would snow’. And as
Rabbit danced and prayed and sung his song, it started to snow a little bit. Oh,
this made Rabbit so happy that he sung his song stronger and harder: ‘Oh how
I wish it would snow; Oh how I wish it would snow’. And the snow started to
come down. And Rabbit was so excited to see that snow coming down that he
sung his song stronger. ‘Oh how I wish it would snow; Oh how I wish it would
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snow.’ And it started to snow so much. All that snow!
And because he wished for it to snow so much, the snow rose higher and
higher, higher until it rose high into that willow tree. And now Rabbit played in
the snow, and now it is so high he could eat some of those fresh shoots that are
in the willow tree. Filled his stomach.
And now he wanted to go home, tired from all that dancing and eating. But
when he looked, he saw that his home was covered with all that snow. Well, he
decided he would rest in the crotch of the tree. And he fell asleep.
He awoke the next morning and the sun had come out and melted all that
snow away. Now, Rabbit is high up in that willow tree, wondering how he is
ever going to get down. Because as you know yourselves, rabbits are not good
tree climbers!
So as he was holding onto those branches and looking and wondering how
could he get down, how could he sing his song again, how could he make it
snow? As he was leaning over, SNAP! His tail broke! And when his tail broke he
went tumbling down out of that tree. And as he tumbled down out of that tree,
his little short ears would get caught in the branches and stretch and stretch
and pull and pull and stretch and stretch and pull, until they are as long as
they are today!
And when Rabbit, when he fell out of that willow tree, he hit that ground so
hard, he hit that ground so hard, his long straight arms shot into his body and
became little short arms just like they are today!
And when that Rabbit fell out of that tree, and he hit that ground so hard, his
long straight legs, they broke and bent just like they are today. And now you
know what I’m telling you is true.
And when that Rabbit fell out of that tree, he hit that ground so hard, he
smashed his face, and when he smashed his face, he split his lip. Now, you
know what I’m telling you is a true lesson. Because if ever you were to look at
that Rabbit today, or any of his grandchildren, you will see that they all have
long ears, little short arms, bent rear legs, a split lip, no tail, and they have to
hop everywhere they go.
Now you know what I’ve told you is a true lesson as we Native people see it. And
you can prove the truth of this lesson to yourself very soon. Any Spring-time,
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you can go out into the park or into the woods and look up in that willow tree.
And when you look up into that willow tree, you will see where Rabbit has left
his tail. Because that willow tree has a very special look. And today that willow
tree and Rabbit all look different.
And now, you know why rabbits look the way they do. And now you know why
willows look the way they do.
Video: http://www.pbs.org/teachers/connect/resources/5682/preview/
Follow this link, then choose the “East” in the interactive video launcher.
Queen of the Woods and Historical Texts
Group Members:
Secondary Text:
In 3-5 sentences, summarize the main points of this document:
How would the effects of what is described (legislation/ public opinion/ event) affect
the Potawatomi people, in terms of lifestyle?
How could the contents of this document affect the identities of the Potawatomi
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people, as individuals or as a group?
How might it affect the “outsider’s” understanding of their identities?
How does an understanding of Native Americans that is built on this document
affect them as a people, according to Pokagon? (Physically, materially, emotionally,
mentally?)
Indian Removal Act of 1830
U. S. Government, 21st Congress, 2nd Session
Chapter CXLVIII - An Act to provide for an exchange of lands with the Indians
residing in any of the states or territories, and for their removal west of the
river Mississippi.
Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States
of America, in Congress assembled, That it shall and may be lawful for the
President of the United States to cause so much of any territory belonging to
the United States, west of the river Mississippi, not included in any state or
organized territory, and to which the Indian title has been extinguished, as he
may judge necessary, to be divided into a suitable number of districts, for the
reception of such tribes or nations of Indians as may choose to exchange the
lands where they now reside, and remove there; and to cause each of said
districts to be so described by natural or artificial marks, as to be easily
distinguished from every other.
Section 2 - And be it further enacted, That it shall and may be lawful for the
President to exchange any or all of such districts, so to be laid off and described,
with any tribe or nation within the limits of any of the states or territories, and
with which the United States have existing treaties, for the whole or any part
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or portion of the territory claimed and occupied by such tribe or nation, within
the bounds of any one or more of the states or territories, where the land
claimed and occupied by the Indians, is owned by the United States, or the
United States are bound to the state within which it lies to extinguish the
Indian claim thereto.
Section 3 - And be it further enacted, That in the making of any such exchange
or exchanges, it shall and may be lawful for the President solemnly to assure
the tribe or nation with which the exchange is made, that the United States will
forever secure and guaranty to them, and their heirs or successors, the country
so exchanged with them; and if they prefer it, that the United States will cause
a patent or grant to be made and executed to them for the same: Provided
always, hat such lands shall revert to the United States, if the Indians become
extinct, or abandon the same.
Section 4 - And be it further enacted, That if, upon any of the lands now
occupied by the Indians, and to be exchanged for, there should be such
improvements as add value to the land claimed by any individual or
individuals of such tribes or nations, it shall and may be lawful for the
President to cause such value to be ascertained by appraisement or otherwise,
and to cause such ascertained value to be paid to the person or persons
rightfully claiming such improvements. And upon the payment of such
valuation, the improvements so valued and paid for, shall pass to the United
States, and possession shall not afterwards be permitted to any of the same
tribe.
Section 5 - And be it further enacted, That upon the making of any such
exchange as is contemplated by this act, it shall and may be lawful for the
President to cause such aid and assistance to be furnished to the emigrants as
may be necessary and proper to enable them to remove to, and settle in, the
country for which they may have exchanged; and also, to give them such aid
and assistance as may be necessary for their support and subsistence for the
first year after their removal.
Section 6 - And be it further enacted, That it shall and may be lawful for the
President to cause such tribe or nation to be protected, at their new residence,
against all interruption or disturbance from any other tribe or nation of
Indians, or from any other person or persons whatever.
Section 7 - And be it further enacted, That it shall and may be lawful for the
President to have the same superintendence and care over any tribe or nation
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in the country to which they may remove, as contemplated by this act, that he
is now authorized to have over them at their present places of residence.
http://www.legendsofamerica.com/na­indianremovalact.html
Potawatomi Trail of Death
In September 1838, 859 Potawatomi Indians were forced from their homeland
near Plymouth, Indiana and made to march 660 miles to present-day
Osawatomie, Kansas. At gunpoint, the tribebegan the march on September 4,
1838. During the two month journey, 42 members of the tribe, mostly children,
died of typhoid fever and the stress of the forced removal. When they arrived
in Osawatomie, Kansas on November 4, 1838, there were only 756 of the tribe,
as many had also escaped along the journey.
Native American tribes began to be forced from their homelands in 1830 when
the Indian Removal Act was passed by the Federal Government. As more and
more European immigrants arrived in the United States, the government
determined that more room was needed for them; therefore, pushing the
Indians to unpopulated lands west of the Mississippi River. The the Indian
Removal Act was specifically enacted to remove the Five Civilized Tribes from
the southeast, but it would later lead to multiple treaties with other tribes east
of the Mississippi River.
Negotiations with various Potawatomi bands began in 1832 to move them from
their homelands in Indiana to lands in Kansas. While many of them complied
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over the next several years, Chief Menominee and his band at Twin Lakes,
Indiana, refused to sign the treaties. By August, 1838, most of the Potawatomi
bands had migrated peacefully to their new lands in Kansas; but, Chief
Menominee's band stayed at their Twin Lakes village. Hundreds of others who
did not want to leave their homeland joined Menominee's band, which over
time grew from 4 wigwams in 1821 to 100 in 1838. As a result, Indiana Governor
David Wallace ordered General John Tipton to mobilize the state militia to
forcibly remove the tribe.
On August 30th, General Tipton, along with 100 soldiers, arrived at the Twin
Lakes Village and began to round up the tribe, burning their crops and homes
to discourage them from trying to return. Five days later, on September 4th, the
march began with more than 850 Indians and a caravan of 26 wagons to help
transport their goods. Chief Menominee and two other chiefs, No-taw-kah and
Pee-pin-oh-waw, were placed in a horse-drawn jail wagon, while their people
walked or rode horseback behind them. Each day, the trek began at 8:00 a.m.
and continued until 4:00 p.m., when they rested for the evening and were
given their only meal of the day.
The tribe was accompanied by their young priest, Father Benjamin M. Petit.
Along the way he ministered to the tribe spiritually, emotionally, and
physically, tending to the sick. That fall there was a terrible drought and
unfortunately, what little water they found was usually stagnant, causing
many of them to get sick with what was probably typhoid. As more and more
died along the way, Father Petit baptized the dying children, blessed each
grave when someone died, and conducted Mass each day, though he himself
also grew sick along the journey.
On November 13, 1838, while traveling along the Osage River in Missouri, he
wrote a letter to Bishop Simon Brute, Vincennes, Indiana, describing the
march.
"The order of march was as follows: the United States flag, carried by a
dragoon; then one of the principal officers, next the staff baggage carts, then
the carriage, which during the whole trip was kept for the use of the Indian
chiefs, then one or two chiefs on horseback led a line of 250 to 300 horses
ridden by men, women, children in single file, after the manner of savages.
On the flanks of the line at equal distance from each other were the dragoons
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and volunteers, hastening the stragglers, often with severe gestures and bitter
words. After this cavalry came a file of forty baggage wagons filled with
luggage and Indians. The sick were lying in them, rudely jolted, under a canvas
which, far from protecting them from the dust and heat, only deprived them of
air, for they were as if buried under this burning canopy - several died."
Across the great prairies of Illinois they marched, crossed the Mississippi River
at Quincy, made their way along the rivers in Missouri and entered Kansas
Territory south of Independence, Missouri. When they arrived at Osawatomie,
Kansas, on November 4, 1838, 42 of the 859 Potawatomi had died. Making
matters worse, winter was coming on and there were no houses, despite the
government promise. Obviously the Potawatomi were upset and Father Petit,
who was very sick at the time, stayed with them for a few weeks. During this
time, he made arrangements with Jesuit Father Christian Hoecken, who
operated St. Mary's Sugar Creek Mission, for the Indians to move to the site.
Located about 20 miles south of Osawatomie, near present Centerville, Kansas,
the mission had been established the previous year for a group ofPotawatomi,
including Chiefs Kee-wau-nay and Nas-waw-kay, who had relocated
voluntarily
A few weeks later, on January 2, 1839, Father Petit, set out for Indiana,
accompanied by Abram “Nan-wesh-mah” Burnett. At the time Burnett had to
hold Petit on his horse, as the priest was very sick with sores all over his body.
When they reached Jefferson City,Missouri, Petit was so sick he could no longer
ride a horse and was forced to ride in a wagon. The pair reached the Jesuit
seminary in St. Louis, Missouri on January 15th. Father Petit was too sick to
travel further. He died at the seminary on February 10, 1839 at the age of 27.
He was initially buried in the Jesuit Cemetery in St. Louis, but years later, in
1856, was re-interred at Notre Dame in South Bend, Indiana. Today, many of
the Potawatomi feel that Father Petit is a saint.
The St. Mary's Sugar Creek Mission was the true end of the Potawatomi Trail of
Death. Though they still had no houses, they found shelter along the steep
rocky walls of the creek bank, where they could hang blankets and keep warm
with camp fires. Thus they spent that first winter in Kansas. Later they built
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wigwams and log cabins, and lived at the mission for the next ten years. Three
years after their arrival, Mother Rose Philippine Duchesne came to the mission
in 1841, where she taught school to the young members of the tribe. She
established the first Indian school for girls west of the Mississippi River. By that
time she was 72 years old and her health was failing. Unable to do much work,
she dedicated herself primarily to a ministry of contemplative prayer.,
impelling theIndians to name her Quah-kah-ka-num-ad,
"Woman-Who-Prays-Always." She was canonized in 1988, the first female saint
west of the Mississippi River.
The Potawatomi of the Woods Mission Band remained in eastern Kansas for ten
years. In 1848 they moved further west to St Marys, Kansas, close to the Prairie
Band Potawatomi Reservation at Mayetta, Kansas. During their years at the
mission more than 600 of the Potawatomi died, many of them shortly after their
arrival. Chief Alexis Menominee died after on April 15, 1841, at the age of 50. All
are buried at the site. In 1861, the Potawatomi were offered a new treaty
which gave them land in Oklahoma. Those who signed this treaty became the
Citizen Band Potawatomi because they were given U.S. citizenship. Their
headquarters today are in Shawnee, Oklahoma.
Though the mission is no longer there, the site continues to commemorate the
Potawatomi struggle at the St. Philippine Duchesne Memorial Park. In the
1980's, the Eastern Kansas Diocese bought 450 acres where the original Sugar
Creek Mission had stood and the St. Philippine Duchesne Memorial Park was
dedicated in 1988 with a large circular altar and a 30 foot tall metal cross. The
park also features seven wooden crosses with metal plaques to honor those
who died there, as well as a number of interpretive signs that display
information about the Potawatomi Indians and the original mission buildings.
Today, the Potawatomi Trail of Death has been declared a Regional Historic
Trail, and since 1988 a commemorative caravan follows the same trail every
five years, starting at the Chief Menominee statue south of Plymouth, Indiana
and ending at the St. Philippine Duchesne Memorial Park near Centerville,
Kansas.
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© Kathy Weiser/Legends of America, July, 2011.
The Dawes Act
February 8, 1887
(U. S. Statutes at Large, Vol. XXIV, p. 388 ff.)
[Congressman Henry Dawes, author of the act, once expressed his faith in the
civilizing power of private property, with the claim that to be civilized was to
"wear civilized clothes...cultivate the ground, live in houses, ride in Studebaker
wagons, send children to school, drink whiskey [and] own property."]
An act to provide for the allotment of lands in severalty to Indians on the
various reservations, and to extend the protection of the laws of the United
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States and the Territories over the Indians, and for other purposes.
Be it enacted, That in all cases where any tribe or band of Indians has been, or
shall hereafter be, located upon any reservation created for their use, either by
treaty stipulation or by virtue of an act of Congress or executive order setting
apart the same for their use, the President of the United States be, and he
hereby is, authorized, whenever in his opinion any reservation or any part
thereof of such Indians is advantageous for agricultural and grazing purposes
to cause said reservation, or any part thereof, to be surveyed, or resurveyed if
necessary, and to allot the lands in said reservations in severalty to any Indian
located thereon in quantities as follows:
To each head of a family, one-quarter of a section;
To each single person over eighteen years of age, one-eighth of a section;
To each orphan child under eighteen years of age, one-eighth of a section; and,
To each other single person under eighteen years now living, or who may be
born prior to the date of the order of the President directing an allotment of the
lands embraced in any reservation, one-sixteenth of a section; . . .
...
SEC. 5. That upon the approval of the allotments provided for in this act by the
Secretary of the Interior, he shall . . . declare that the United States does and
will hold the land thus allotted, for the period of twenty-five years, in trust for
the sole use and benefit of the Indian to whom such allotment shall have been
made, . . . and that at the expiration of said period the United States will convey
the same by patent to said Indian, or his heirs as aforesaid, in fee, discharged of
such trust and free of all charge or encumbrance whatsoever: . . .
SEC. 6. That upon the completion of said allotments and the patenting of the
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lands to said allottees, each and every member of the respective bands or tribes
of Indians to whom allotments have been made shall have the benefit of and be
subject to the laws, both civil and criminal, of the State or Territory in which
they may reside; . . .And every Indian born within the territorial limits of the
United States to whom allotments shall have been made under the provisions
of this act, or under any law or treaty, and every Indian born within the
territorial limits of the United States who has voluntarily taken up, within said
limits, his residence separate and apart from any tribe of Indians therein, and
has adopted the habits of civilized life, is hereby declared to be a citizen of the
United States, and is entitled to all the rights, privileges, and immunities of such
citizens, whether said Indian has been or not, by birth or otherwise, a member
of any tribe of Indians within the territorial limits of the United States without
in any manner impairing or otherwise affecting the right of any such Indian to
tribal or other property. . . .
http://www.pbs.org/weta/thewest/resources/archives/eight/dawes.htm
Andrew Jackson's Second Annual Message
It gives me pleasure to announce to Congress that the benevolent policy of the
Government, steadily pursued for nearly thirty years, in relation to the
removal of the Indians beyond the white settlements is approaching to a happy
consummation. Two important tribes have accepted the provision made for
their removal at the last session of Congress, and it is believed that their
example will induce the remaining tribes also to seek the same obvious
advantages.
The consequences of a speedy removal will be important to the United States, to
individual States, and to the Indians themselves. The pecuniary advantages
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which it promises to the Government are the least of its recommendations. It
puts an end to all possible danger of collision between the authorities of the
General and State Governments on account of the Indians. It will place a dense
and civilized population in large tracts of country now occupied by a few
savage hunters. By opening the whole territory between Tennessee on the
north and Louisiana on the south to the settlement of the whites it will
incalculably strengthen the southwestern frontier and render the adjacent
States strong enough to repel future invasions without remote aid. It will
relieve the whole State of Mississippi and the western part of Alabama of
Indian occupancy, and enable those States to advance rapidly in population,
wealth, and power. It will separate the Indians from immediate contact with
settlements of whites; free them from the power of the States; enable them to
pursue happiness in their own way and under their own rude institutions; will
retard the progress of decay, which is lessening their numbers, and perhaps
cause them gradually, under the protection of the Government and through
the influence of good counsels, to cast off their savage habits and become an
interesting, civilized, and Christian community.
What good man would prefer a country covered with forests and ranged by a
few thousand savages to our extensive Republic, studded with cities, towns, and
prosperous farms embellished with all the improvements which art can devise
or industry execute, occupied by more than 12,000,000 happy people, and filled
with all the blessings of liberty, civilization and religion?
The present policy of the Government is but a continuation of the same
progressive change by a milder process. The tribes which occupied the
countries now constituting the Eastern States were annihilated or have melted
away to make room for the whites. The waves of population and civilization
are rolling to the westward, and we now propose to acquire the countries
occupied by the red men of the South and West by a fair exchange, and, at the
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expense of the United States, to send them to land where their existence may
be prolonged and perhaps made perpetual. Doubtless it will be painful to leave
the graves of their fathers; but what do they more than our ancestors did or
than our children are now doing? To better their condition in an unknown
land our forefathers left all that was dear in earthly objects. Our children by
thousands yearly leave the land of their birth to seek new homes in distant
regions. Does Humanity weep at these painful separations from everything,
animate and inanimate, with which the young heart has become entwined?
Far from it. It is rather a source of joy that our country affords scope where our
young population may range unconstrained in body or in mind, developing the
power and facilities of man in their highest perfection. These remove hundreds
and almost thousands of miles at their own expense, purchase the lands they
occupy, and support themselves at their new homes from the moment of their
arrival. Can it be cruel in this Government when, by events which it can not
control, the Indian is made discontented in his ancient home to purchase his
lands, to give him a new and extensive territory, to pay the expense of his
removal, and support him a year in his new abode? How many thousands of
our own people would gladly embrace the opportunity of removing to the West
on such conditions! If the offers made to the Indians were extended to them,
they would be hailed with gratitude and joy.
And is it supposed that the wandering savage has a stronger attachment to his
home than the settled, civilized Christian? Is it more afflicting to him to leave
the graves of his fathers than it is to our brothers and children? Rightly
considered, the policy of the General Government toward the red man is not
only liberal, but generous. He is unwilling to submit to the laws of the States
and mingle with their population. To save him from this alternative, or
perhaps utter annihilation, the General Government kindly offers him a new
home, and proposes to pay the whole expense of his removal and settlement.
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A Compilation of the Messages and Papers of the Presidents 1789-1908, Volume II,
by James D. Richardson, published by Bureau of National Literature and Art
,1908
Poetry Analysis Worksheet
NAME:
DATE:
Literal Meaning and Theme
Words you know:
Words you sort of know:
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Important words:
Allusions:
Theme:
Tone and Speaker
Who is speaking?
Describe the speaker:
Who is the speaker addressing?
What is the purpose of the poem?
What is the tone?
How does it inform your understanding of the poem?
Structure
How is the poem organized?
What form does it take?
What does each stanza discuss? How are they related?
What does the structure suggest?
Sound and Rhythm
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What do you notice about the poems rhythm?
What does the rhythm tell you about the poem?
What sound devices do you see?
How do they affect your interpretation of the poem?
What is the rhyme scheme? What does it suggest?
Language and Imagery
What images does this poem conjure?
What connections do you see between them?
What connotations exist in these images?
What poetic devices do you notice?
How are they being used?
What do they add to the poem?
WHAT YOU PAWN I WILL REDEEM
by Sherman Alexie
NOON
One day you have a home and the next you don’t, but I’m not going to tell you my
particular reasons for being homeless, because it’s my secret story, and Indians have
to work hard to keep secrets from hungry white folks.
I’m a Spokane Indian boy, an Interior Salish, and my people have lived within a
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hundred-mile radius of Spokane, Washington, for at least ten thousand years. I grew
up in Spokane, moved to Seattle twenty-three years ago for college, flunked out after
two semesters, worked various blue- and bluer-collar jobs, married two or three
times, fathered two or three kids, and then went crazy. Of course, crazy is not the
official definition of my mental problem, but I don’t think asocial disorder fits it,
either, because that makes me sound like I’m a serial killer or something. I’ve never
hurt another human being, or, at least, not physically. I’ve broken a few hearts in
my time, but we’ve all done that, so I’m nothing special in that regard. I’m a boring
heartbreaker, too. I never dated or married more than one woman at a time. I didn’t
break hearts into pieces overnight. I broke them slowly and carefully. And I didn’t
set any land-speed records running out the door. Piece by piece, I disappeared. I’ve
been disappearing ever since.
I’ve been homeless for six years now. If there’s such a thing as an effective
homeless man, then I suppose I’m effective. Being homeless is probably the only
thing I’ve ever been good at. I know where to get the best free food. I’ve made friends
with restaurant and convenience-store managers who let me use their bathrooms.
And I don’t mean the public bathrooms, either. I mean the employees’ bathrooms,
the clean ones hidden behind the kitchen or the pantry or the cooler. I know it
sounds strange to be proud of this, but it means a lot to me, being trustworthy
enough to piss in somebody else’s clean bathroom. Maybe you don’t understand the
value of a clean bathroom, but I do.
Probably none of this interests you. Homeless Indians are everywhere in Seattle.
We’re common and boring, and you walk right on by us, with maybe a look of anger
or disgust or even sadness at the terrible fate of the noble savage. But we have
dreams and families. I’m friends with a homeless Plains Indian man whose son is
the editor of a big-time newspaper back East. Of course, that’s his story, but we
Indians are great storytellers and liars and mythmakers, so maybe that Plains
Indian hobo is just a plain old everyday Indian. I’m kind of suspicious of him,
because he identifies himself only as Plains Indian, a generic term, and not by a
specific tribe. When I asked him why he wouldn’t tell me exactly what he is, he said,
“Do any of us know exactly what we are?” Yeah, great, a philosophizing Indian.
“Hey,” I said, “you got to have a home to be that homely.” He just laughed and
flipped me the eagle and walked away.
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I wander the streets with a regular crew—my teammates, my defenders, my
posse. It’s Rose of Sharon, Junior, and me. We matter to each other if we don’t matter
to anybody else. Rose of Sharon is a big woman, about seven feet tall if you’re
measuring over-all effect and about five feet tall if you’re only talking about the
physical. She’s a Yakama Indian of the Wishram variety. Junior is a Colville, but
there are about a hundred and ninety-nine tribes that make up the Colville, so he
could be anything. He’s good-looking, though, like he just stepped out of some “Don’t
Litter the Earth” public-service advertisement. He’s got those great big cheekbones
that are like planets, you know, with little moons orbiting them. He gets me jealous,
jealous, and jealous. If you put Junior and me next to each other, he’s the Before
Columbus Arrived Indian and I’m the After Columbus Arrived Indian. I am living
proof of the horrible damage that colonialism has done to us Skins. But I’m not
going to let you know how scared I sometimes get of history and its ways. I’m a
strong man, and I know that silence is the best method of dealing with white folks.
This whole story really started at lunchtime, when Rose of Sharon, Junior, and I
were panning the handle down at Pike Place Market. After about two hours of
negotiating, we earned five dollars—good enough for a bottle of fortified courage
from the most beautiful 7-Eleven in the world. So we headed over that way, feeling
like warrior drunks, and we walked past this pawnshop I’d never noticed before. And
that was strange, because we Indians have built-in pawnshop radar. But the
strangest thing of all was the old powwow-dance regalia I saw hanging in the
window.
“That’s my grandmother’s regalia,” I said to Rose of Sharon and Junior.
“How you know for sure?” Junior asked.
I didn’t know for sure, because I hadn’t seen that regalia in person ever. I’d only
seen photographs of my grandmother dancing in it. And those were taken before
somebody stole it from her, fifty years ago. But it sure looked like my memory of it,
and it had all the same color feathers and beads that my family sewed into our
powwow regalia.
“There’s only one way to know for sure,” I said.
So Rose of Sharon, Junior, and I walked into the pawnshop and greeted the old
white man working behind the counter.
“How can I help you?” he asked.
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“That’s my grandmother’s powwow regalia in your window,” I said. “Somebody
stole it from her fifty years ago, and my family has been searching for it ever since.”
The pawnbroker looked at me like I was a liar. I understood. Pawnshops are filled
with liars.
“I’m not lying,” I said. “Ask my friends here. They’ll tell you.”
“He’s the most honest Indian I know,” Rose of Sharon said.
“All right, honest Indian,” the pawnbroker said. “I’ll give you the benefit of the
doubt. Can you prove it’s your grandmother’s regalia?”
Because they don’t want to be perfect, because only God is perfect, Indian people
sew flaws into their powwow regalia. My family always sewed one yellow bead
somewhere on our regalia. But we always hid it so that you had to search really hard
to find it.
“If it really is my grandmother’s,” I said, “there will be one yellow bead hidden
somewhere on it.”
“All right, then,” the pawnbroker said. “Let’s take a look.”
He pulled the regalia out of the window, laid it down on the glass counter, and we
searched for that yellow bead and found it hidden beneath the armpit.
“There it is,” the pawnbroker said. He didn’t sound surprised. “You were right.
This is your grandmother’s regalia.”
“It’s been missing for fifty years,” Junior said.
“Hey, Junior,” I said. “It’s my family’s story. Let me tell it.”
“All right,” he said. “I apologize. You go ahead.”
“It’s been missing for fifty years,” I said.
“That’s his family’s sad story,” Rose of Sharon said. “Are you going to give it back
to him?”
“That would be the right thing to do,” the pawnbroker said. “But I can’t afford to
do the right thing. I paid a thousand dollars for this. I can’t just give away a
thousand dollars.”
“We could go to the cops and tell them it was stolen,” Rose of Sharon said.
“Hey,” I said to her. “Don’t go threatening people.”
The pawnbroker sighed. He was thinking about the possibilities.
“Well, I suppose you could go to the cops,” he said. “But I don’t think they’d
believe a word you said.”
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He sounded sad about that. As if he was sorry for taking advantage of our
disadvantages.
“What’s your name?” the pawnbroker asked me.
“Jackson,” I said.
“Is that first or last?”
“Both,” I said.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, it’s true. My mother and father named me Jackson Jackson. My family
nickname is Jackson Squared. My family is funny.”
“All right, Jackson Jackson,” the pawnbroker said. “You wouldn’t happen to have
a thousand dollars, would you?”
“We’ve got five dollars total,” I said.
“That’s too bad,” he said, and thought hard about the possibilities. “I’d sell it to
you for a thousand dollars if you had it. Heck, to make it fair, I’d sell it to you for
nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars. I’d lose a dollar. That would be the moral
thing to do in this case. To lose a dollar would be the right thing.”
“We’ve got five dollars total,” I said again.
“That’s too bad,” he said once more, and thought harder about the possibilities.
“How about this? I’ll give you twenty-four hours to come up with nine hundred and
ninety-nine dollars. You come back here at lunchtime tomorrow with the money and
I’ll sell it back to you. How does that sound?”
“It sounds all right,” I said.
“All right, then,” he said. “We have a deal. And I’ll get you started. Here’s twenty
bucks.”
He opened up his wallet and pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and gave it to
me. And Rose of Sharon, Junior, and I walked out into the daylight to search for nine
hundred and seventy-four more dollars.
1 P.M.
Rose of Sharon, Junior, and I carried our twenty-dollar bill and our five dollars in
loose change over to the 7-Eleven and bought three bottles of imagination. We
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needed to figure out how to raise all that money in only one day. Thinking hard, we
huddled in an alley beneath the Alaska Way Viaduct and finished off those
bottles—one, two, and three.
2 P.M.
Rose of Sharon was gone when I woke up. I heard later that she had hitchhiked back
to Toppenish and was living with her sister on the reservation.
Junior had passed out beside me and was covered in his own vomit, or maybe
somebody else’s vomit, and my head hurt from thinking, so I left him alone and
walked down to the water. I love the smell of ocean water. Salt always smells like
memory.
When I got to the wharf, I ran into three Aleut cousins, who sat on a wooden
bench and stared out at the bay and cried. Most of the homeless Indians in Seattle
come from Alaska. One by one, each of them hopped a big working boat in
Anchorage or Barrow or Juneau, fished his way south to Seattle, jumped off the boat
with a pocketful of cash to party hard at one of the highly sacred and traditional
Indian bars, went broke and broker, and has been trying to find his way back to the
boat and the frozen North ever since.
These Aleuts smelled like salmon, I thought, and they told me they were going to
sit on that wooden bench until their boat came back.
“How long has your boat been gone?” I asked.
“Eleven years,” the elder Aleut said.
I cried with them for a while.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you guys have any money I can borrow?”
They didn’t.
3 P.M.
I walked back to Junior. He was still out cold. I put my face down near his mouth to
make sure he was breathing. He was alive, so I dug around in his bluejeans pockets
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and found half a cigarette. I smoked it all the way down and thought about my
grandmother.
Her name was Agnes, and she died of breast cancer when I was fourteen. My
father always thought Agnes caught her tumors from the uranium mine on the
reservation. But my mother said the disease started when Agnes was walking back
from a powwow one night and got run over by a motorcycle. She broke three ribs,
and my mother always said those ribs never healed right, and tumors take over
when you don’t heal right.
Sitting beside Junior, smelling the smoke and the salt and the vomit, I wondered if
my grandmother’s cancer started when somebody stole her powwow regalia. Maybe
the cancer started in her broken heart and then leaked out into her breasts. I know
it’s crazy, but I wondered whether I could bring my grandmother back to life if I
bought back her regalia.
I needed money, big money, so I left Junior and walked over to the Real Change
office.
4 P.M.
Real Change is a multifaceted organization that publishes a newspaper, supports
cultural projects that empower the poor and the homeless, and mobilizes the public
around poverty issues. Real Change’s mission is to organize, educate, and build
alliances to create solutions to homelessness and poverty. It exists to provide a voice
for poor people in our community.
I memorized Real Change’s mission statement because I sometimes sell the
newspaper on the streets. But you have to stay sober to sell it, and I’m not always
good at staying sober. Anybody can sell the paper. You buy each copy for thirty cents
and sell it for a dollar, and you keep the profit.
“I need one thousand four hundred and thirty papers,” I said to the Big Boss.
“That’s a strange number,” he said. “And that’s a lot of papers.”
“I need them.”
The Big Boss pulled out his calculator and did the math.
“It will cost you four hundred and twenty-nine dollars for that many,” he said.
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“If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t need to sell the papers.”
“What’s going on, Jackson-to-the-Second-Power?” he asked. He is the only person
who calls me that. He’s a funny and kind man.
I told him about my grandmother’s powwow regalia and how much money I
needed in order to buy it back.
“We should call the police,” he said.
“I don’t want to do that,” I said. “It’s a quest now. I need to win it back by myself.”
“I understand,” he said. “And, to be honest, I’d give you the papers to sell if I
thought it would work. But the record for the most papers sold in one day by one
vender is only three hundred and two.”
“That would net me about two hundred bucks,” I said.
The Big Boss used his calculator. “Two hundred and eleven dollars and forty
cents,” he said.
“That’s not enough,” I said.
“And the most money anybody has made in one day is five hundred and
twenty-five. And that’s because somebody gave Old Blue five hundred-dollar bills for
some dang reason. The average daily net is about thirty dollars.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“No.”
“Can you lend me some money?”
“I can’t do that,” he said. “If I lend you money, I have to lend money to
everybody.”
“What can you do?”
“I’ll give you fifty papers for free. But don’t tell anybody I did it.”
“O.K.,” I said.
He gathered up the newspapers and handed them to me. I held them to my chest.
He hugged me. I carried the newspapers back toward the water.
5 P.M.
Back on the wharf, I stood near the Bainbridge Island Terminal and tried to sell
papers to business commuters boarding the ferry.
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I sold five in one hour, dumped the other forty-five in a garbage can, and walked
into McDonald’s, ordered four cheeseburgers for a dollar each, and slowly ate them.
After eating, I walked outside and vomited on the sidewalk. I hated to lose my
food so soon after eating it. As an alcoholic Indian with a busted stomach, I always
hope I can keep enough food in me to stay alive.
6 P.M.
With one dollar in my pocket, I walked back to Junior. He was still passed out, and I
put my ear to his chest and listened for his heartbeat. He was alive, so I took off his
shoes and socks and found one dollar in his left sock and fifty cents in his right sock.
With two dollars and fifty cents in my hand, I sat beside Junior and thought about
my grandmother and her stories.
When I was thirteen, my grandmother told me a story about the Second World
War. She was a nurse at a military hospital in Sydney, Australia. For two years, she
healed and comforted American and Australian soldiers.
One day, she tended to a wounded Maori soldier, who had lost his legs to an
artillery attack. He was very dark-skinned. His hair was black and curly and his eyes
were black and warm. His face was covered with bright tattoos.
“Are you Maori?” he asked my grandmother.
“No,” she said. “I’m Spokane Indian. From the United States.”
“Ah, yes,” he said. “I have heard of your tribes. But you are the first American
Indian I have ever met.”
“There’s a lot of Indian soldiers fighting for the United States,” she said. “I have a
brother fighting in Germany, and I lost another brother on Okinawa.”
“I am sorry,” he said. “I was on Okinawa as well. It was terrible.”
“I am sorry about your legs,” my grandmother said.
“It’s funny, isn’t it?” he said.
“What’s funny?”
“How we brown people are killing other brown people so white people will
remain free.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
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“Well, sometimes I think of it that way. And other times I think of it the way they
want me to think of it. I get confused.”
She fed him morphine.
“Do you believe in Heaven?” he asked.
“Which Heaven?” she asked.
“I’m talking about the Heaven where my legs are waiting for me.”
They laughed.
“Of course,” he said, “my legs will probably run away from me when I get to
Heaven. And how will I ever catch them?”
“You have to get your arms strong,” my grandmother said. “So you can run on
your hands.”
They laughed again.
Sitting beside Junior, I laughed at the memory of my grandmother’s story. I put
my hand close to Junior’s mouth to make sure he was still breathing. Yes, Junior was
alive, so I took my two dollars and fifty cents and walked to the Korean grocery store
in Pioneer Square.
7 P.M.
At the Korean grocery store, I bought a fifty-cent cigar and two scratch lottery tickets
for a dollar each. The maximum cash prize was five hundred dollars a ticket. If I
won both, I would have enough money to buy back the regalia.
I loved Mary, the young Korean woman who worked the register. She was the
daughter of the owners, and she sang all day.
“I love you,” I said when I handed her the money.
“You always say you love me,” she said.
“That’s because I will always love you.”
“You are a sentimental fool.”
“I’m a romantic old man.”
“Too old for me.”
“I know I’m too old for you, but I can dream.”
“O.K.,” she said. “I agree to be a part of your dreams, but I will only hold your
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hand in your dreams. No kissing and no sex. Not even in your dreams.”
“O.K.,” I said. “No sex. Just romance.”
“Goodbye, Jackson Jackson, my love. I will see you soon.”
I left the store, walked over to Occidental Park, sat on a bench, and smoked my
cigar all the way down.
Ten minutes after I finished the cigar, I scratched my first lottery ticket and won
nothing. I could only win five hundred dollars now, and that would only be half of
what I needed.
Ten minutes after I lost, I scratched the other ticket and won a free ticket—a small
consolation and one more chance to win some money.
I walked back to Mary.
“Jackson Jackson,” she said. “Have you come back to claim my heart?”
“I won a free ticket,” I said.
“Just like a man,” she said. “You love money and power more than you love me.”
“It’s true,” I said. “And I’m sorry it’s true.”
She gave me another scratch ticket, and I took it outside. I like to scratch my
tickets in private. Hopeful and sad, I scratched that third ticket and won real money.
I carried it back inside to Mary.
“I won a hundred dollars,” I said.
She examined the ticket and laughed.
“That’s a fortune,” she said, and counted out five twenties. Our fingertips touched
as she handed me the money. I felt electric and constant.
“Thank you,” I said, and gave her one of the bills.
“I can’t take that,” she said. “It’s your money.”
“No, it’s tribal. It’s an Indian thing. When you win, you’re supposed to share with
your family.”
“I’m not your family.”
“Yes, you are.”
She smiled. She kept the money. With eighty dollars in my pocket, I said goodbye
to my dear Mary and walked out into the cold night air.
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8 P.M.
I wanted to share the good news with Junior. I walked back to him, but he was gone.
I heard later that he had hitchhiked down to Portland, Oregon, and died of exposure
in an alley behind the Hilton Hotel.
9 P.M.
Lonesome for Indians, I carried my eighty dollars over to Big Heart’s in South
Downtown. Big Heart’s is an all-Indian bar. Nobody knows how or why Indians
migrate to one bar and turn it into an official Indian bar. But Big Heart’s has been an
Indian bar for twenty-three years. It used to be way up on Aurora Avenue, but a
crazy Lummi Indian burned that one down, and the owners moved to the new
location, a few blocks south of Safeco Field.
I walked into Big Heart’s and counted fifteen Indians—eight men and seven
women. I didn’t know any of them, but Indians like to belong, so we all pretended to
be cousins.
“How much for whiskey shots?” I asked the bartender, a fat white guy.
“You want the bad stuff or the badder stuff?”
“As bad as you got.”
“One dollar a shot.”
I laid my eighty dollars on the bar top.
“All right,” I said. “Me and all my cousins here are going to be drinking eighty
shots. How many is that apiece?”
“Counting you,” a woman shouted from behind me, “that’s five shots for
everybody.”
I turned to look at her. She was a chubby and pale Indian woman, sitting with a
tall and skinny Indian man.
“All right, math genius,” I said to her, and then shouted for the whole bar to hear.
“Five drinks for everybody!”
All the other Indians rushed the bar, but I sat with the mathematician and her
skinny friend. We took our time with our whiskey shots.
“What’s your tribe?” I asked.
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“I’m Duwamish,” she said. “And he’s Crow.”
“You’re a long way from Montana,” I said to him.
“I’m Crow,” he said. “I flew here.”
“What’s your name?” I asked them.
“I’m Irene Muse,” she said. “And this is Honey Boy.”
She shook my hand hard, but he offered his hand as if I was supposed to kiss it. So
I did. He giggled and blushed, as much as a dark-skinned Crow can blush.
“You’re one of them two-spirits, aren’t you?” I asked him.
“I love women,” he said. “And I love men.”
“Sometimes both at the same time,” Irene said.
We laughed.
“Man,” I said to Honey Boy. “So you must have about eight or nine spirits going
on inside you, enit?”
“Sweetie,” he said. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“Oh, no,” Irene said. “Honey Boy is falling in love.”
“It has nothing to do with love,” he said.
We laughed.
“Wow,” I said. “I’m flattered, Honey Boy, but I don’t play on your team.”
“Never say never,” he said.
“You better be careful,” Irene said. “Honey Boy knows all sorts of magic.”
“Honey Boy,” I said, “you can try to seduce me, but my heart belongs to a woman
named Mary.”
“Is your Mary a virgin?” Honey Boy asked.
We laughed.
And we drank our whiskey shots until they were gone. But the other Indians
bought me more whiskey shots, because I’d been so generous with my money. And
Honey Boy pulled out his credit card, and I drank and sailed on that plastic boat.
After a dozen shots, I asked Irene to dance. She refused. But Honey Boy shuffled
over to the jukebox, dropped in a quarter, and selected Willie Nelson’s “Help Me
Make It Through the Night.” As Irene and I sat at the table and laughed and drank
more whiskey, Honey Boy danced a slow circle around us and sang along with
Willie.
“Are you serenading me?” I asked him.
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He kept singing and dancing.
“Are you serenading me?” I asked him again.
“He’s going to put a spell on you,” Irene said.
I leaned over the table, spilling a few drinks, and kissed Irene hard. She kissed me
back.
10 P.M.
Irene pushed me into the women’s bathroom, into a stall, shut the door behind us,
and shoved her hand down my pants. She was short, so I had to lean over to kiss her.
I grabbed and squeezed her everywhere I could reach, and she was wonderfully fat,
and every part of her body felt like a large, warm, soft breast.
MIDNIGHT
Nearly blind with alcohol, I stood alone at the bar and swore I had been standing in
the bathroom with Irene only a minute ago.
“One more shot!” I yelled at the bartender.
“You’ve got no more money!” he yelled back.
“Somebody buy me a drink!” I shouted.
“They’ve got no more money!”
“Where are Irene and Honey Boy?”
“Long gone!”
2 A.M.
"Closing time!” the bartender shouted at the three or four Indians who were still
drinking hard after a long, hard day of drinking. Indian alcoholics are either
sprinters or marathoners.
“Where are Irene and Honey Boy?” I asked.
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“They’ve been gone for hours,” the bartender said.
“Where’d they go?”
“I told you a hundred times, I don’t know.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“It’s closing time. I don’t care where you go, but you’re not staying here.”
“You are an ungrateful bastard. I’ve been good to you.”
“You don’t leave right now, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Come on, I know how to fight.”
He came at me. I don’t remember what happened after that.
4 A.M.
I emerged from the blackness and discovered myself walking behind a big
warehouse. I didn’t know where I was. My face hurt. I felt my nose and decided that
it might be broken. Exhausted and cold, I pulled a plastic tarp from a truck bed,
wrapped it around me like a faithful lover, and fell asleep in the dirt.
6 A.M.
Somebody kicked me in the ribs. I opened my eyes and looked up at a white cop.
“Jackson,” the cop said. “Is that you?”
“Officer Williams,” I said. He was a good cop with a sweet tooth. He’d given me
hundreds of candy bars over the years. I wonder if he knew I was diabetic.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked.
“I was cold and sleepy,” I said. “So I lay down.”
“You dumb-ass, you passed out on the railroad tracks.”
I sat up and looked around. I was lying on the railroad tracks. Dockworkers
stared at me. I should have been a railroad-track pizza, a double Indian pepperoni
with extra cheese. Sick and scared, I leaned over and puked whiskey.
“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Officer Williams asked. “You’ve never been
this stupid.”
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“It’s my grandmother,” I said. “She died.”
“I’m sorry, man. When did she die?”
“Nineteen seventy-two.”
“And you’re killing yourself now?”
“I’ve been killing myself ever since she died.”
He shook his head. He was sad for me. Like I said, he was a good cop.
“And somebody beat the hell out of you,” he said. “You remember who?”
“Mr. Grief and I went a few rounds.”
“It looks like Mr. Grief knocked you out.”
“Mr. Grief always wins.”
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you out of here.”
He helped me up and led me over to his squad car. He put me in the back. “You
throw up in there and you’re cleaning it up,” he said.
“That’s fair.”
He walked around the car and sat in the driver’s seat. “I’m taking you over to
detox,” he said.
“No, man, that place is awful,” I said. “It’s full of drunk Indians.”
We laughed. He drove away from the docks.
“I don’t know how you guys do it,” he said.
“What guys?” I asked.
“You Indians. How the hell do you laugh so much? I just picked your ass off the
railroad tracks, and you’re making jokes. Why the hell do you do that?”
“The two funniest tribes I’ve ever been around are Indians and Jews, so I guess
that says something about the inherent humor of genocide.”
We laughed.
“Listen to you, Jackson. You’re so smart. Why the hell are you on the street?”
“Give me a thousand dollars and I’ll tell you.”
“You bet I’d give you a thousand dollars if I knew you’d straighten up your life.”
He meant it. He was the second-best cop I’d ever known.
“You’re a good cop,” I said.
“Come on, Jackson,” he said. “Don’t blow smoke up my ass.”
“No, really, you remind me of my grandfather.”
“Yeah, that’s what you Indians always tell me.”
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“No, man, my grandfather was a tribal cop. He was a good cop. He never arrested
people. He took care of them. Just like you.”
“I’ve arrested hundreds of scumbags, Jackson. And I’ve shot a couple in the ass.”
“It don’t matter. You’re not a killer.”
“I didn’t kill them. I killed their asses. I’m an ass-killer.”
We drove through downtown. The missions and shelters had already released
their overnighters. Sleepy homeless men and women stood on street corners and
stared up at a gray sky. It was the morning after the night of the living dead.
“Do you ever get scared?” I asked Officer Williams.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, being a cop, is it scary?”
He thought about that for a while. He contemplated it. I liked that about him.
“I guess I try not to think too much about being afraid,” he said. “If you think
about fear, then you’ll be afraid. The job is boring most of the time. Just driving and
looking into dark corners, you know, and seeing nothing. But then things get heavy.
You’re chasing somebody, or fighting them or walking around a dark house, and
you just know some crazy guy is hiding around a corner, and hell, yes, it’s scary.”
“My grandfather was killed in the line of duty,” I said.
“I’m sorry. How’d it happen?”
I knew he’d listen closely to my story.
“He worked on the reservation. Everybody knew everybody. It was safe. We aren’t
like those crazy Sioux or Apache or any of those other warrior tribes. There’ve only
been three murders on my reservation in the last hundred years.”
“That is safe.”
“Yeah, we Spokane, we’re passive, you know. We’re mean with words. And we’ll
cuss out anybody. But we don’t shoot people. Or stab them. Not much, anyway.”
“So what happened to your grandfather?”
“This man and his girlfriend were fighting down by Little Falls.”
“Domestic dispute. Those are the worst.”
“Yeah, but this guy was my grandfather’s brother. My great-uncle.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah, it was awful. My grandfather just strolled into the house. He’d been there a
thousand times. And his brother and his girlfriend were drunk and beating on each
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other. And my grandfather stepped between them, just as he’d done a hundred times
before. And the girlfriend tripped or something. She fell down and hit her head and
started crying. And my grandfather kneeled down beside her to make sure she was
all right. And for some reason my great-uncle reached down, pulled my
grandfather’s pistol out of the holster, and shot him in the head.”
“That’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, my great-uncle could never figure out why he did it. He went to prison
forever, you know, and he always wrote these long letters. Like fifty pages of tiny
little handwriting. And he was always trying to figure out why he did it. He’d write
and write and write and try to figure it out. He never did. It’s a great big mystery.”
“Do you remember your grandfather?”
“A little bit. I remember the funeral. My grandmother wouldn’t let them bury
him. My father had to drag her away from the grave.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t, either.”
We stopped in front of the detox center.
“We’re here,” Officer Williams said.
“I can’t go in there,” I said.
“You have to.”
“Please, no. They’ll keep me for twenty-four hours. And then it will be too late.”
“Too late for what?”
I told him about my grandmother’s regalia and the deadline for buying it back.
“If it was stolen, you need to file a report,” he said. “I’ll investigate it myself. If
that thing is really your grandmother’s, I’ll get it back for you. Legally.”
“No,” I said. “That’s not fair. The pawnbroker didn’t know it was stolen. And,
besides, I’m on a mission here. I want to be a hero, you know? I want to win it back,
like a knight.”
“That’s romantic crap.”
“That may be. But I care about it. It’s been a long time since I really cared about
something.”
Officer Williams turned around in his seat and stared at me. He studied me.
“I’ll give you some money,” he said. “I don’t have much. Only thirty bucks. I’m
short until payday. And it’s not enough to get back the regalia. But it’s something.”
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“I’ll take it,” I said.
“I’m giving it to you because I believe in what you believe. I’m hoping, and I don’t
know why I’m hoping it, but I hope you can turn thirty bucks into a thousand
somehow.”
“I believe in magic.”
“I believe you’ll take my money and get drunk on it.”
“Then why are you giving it to me?”
“There ain’t no such thing as an atheist cop.”
“Sure, there is.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not an atheist cop.”
He let me out of the car, handed me two fivers and a twenty, and shook my hand.
“Take care of yourself, Jackson,” he said. “Stay off the railroad tracks.”
“I’ll try,” I said.
He drove away. Carrying my money, I headed back toward the water.
8 A.M.
On the wharf, those three Aleuts still waited on the wooden bench.
“Have you seen your ship?” I asked.
“Seen a lot of ships,” the elder Aleut said. “But not our ship.”
I sat on the bench with them. We sat in silence for a long time. I wondered if we
would fossilize if we sat there long enough.
I thought about my grandmother. I’d never seen her dance in her regalia. And,
more than anything, I wished I’d seen her dance at a powwow.
“Do you guys know any songs?” I asked the Aleuts.
“I know all of Hank Williams,” the elder Aleut said.
“How about Indian songs?”
“Hank Williams is Indian.”
“How about sacred songs?”
“Hank Williams is sacred.”
“I’m talking about ceremonial songs. You know, religious ones. The songs you
sing back home when you’re wishing and hoping.”
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“What are you wishing and hoping for?”
“I’m wishing my grandmother was still alive.”
“Every song I know is about that.”
“Well, sing me as many as you can.”
The Aleuts sang their strange and beautiful songs. I listened. They sang about my
grandmother and about their grandmothers. They were lonesome for the cold and
the snow. I was lonesome for everything.
10 A.M.
After the Aleuts finished their last song, we sat in silence for a while. Indians are
good at silence.
“Was that the last song?” I asked.
“We sang all the ones we could,” the elder Aleut said. “The others are just for our
people.”
I understood. We Indians have to keep our secrets. And these Aleuts were so
secretive they didn’t refer to themselves as Indians.
“Are you guys hungry?” I asked.
They looked at one another and communicated without talking.
“We could eat,” the elder Aleut said.
11 A.M.
The Aleuts and I walked over to the Big Kitchen, a greasy diner in the International
District. I knew they served homeless Indians who’d lucked into money.
“Four for breakfast?” the waitress asked when we stepped inside.
“Yes, we’re very hungry,” the elder Aleut said.
She took us to a booth near the kitchen. I could smell the food cooking. My
stomach growled.
“You guys want separate checks?” the waitress asked.
“No, I’m paying,” I said.
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“Aren’t you the generous one,” she said.
“Don’t do that,” I said.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Don’t ask me rhetorical questions. They scare me.”
She looked puzzled, and then she laughed.
“O.K., Professor,” she said. “I’ll only ask you real questions from now on.”
“Thank you.”
“What do you guys want to eat?”
“That’s the best question anybody can ask anybody,” I said. “What have you got?”
“How much money you got?” she asked.
“Another good question,” I said. “I’ve got twenty-five dollars I can spend. Bring us
all the breakfast you can, plus your tip.”
She knew the math.
“All right, that’s four specials and four coffees and fifteen per cent for me.”
The Aleuts and I waited in silence. Soon enough, the waitress returned and
poured us four coffees, and we sipped at them until she returned again, with four
plates of food. Eggs, bacon, toast, hash-brown potatoes. It’s amazing how much food
you can buy for so little money.
Grateful, we feasted.
NOON
I said farewell to the Aleuts and walked toward the pawnshop. I heard later that the
Aleuts had waded into the salt water near Dock 47 and disappeared. Some Indians
swore they had walked on the water and headed north. Other Indians saw the Aleuts
drown. I don’t know what happened to them.
I looked for the pawnshop and couldn’t find it. I swear it wasn’t in the place
where it had been before. I walked twenty or thirty blocks looking for the pawnshop,
turned corners and bisected intersections, and looked up its name in the phone books
and asked people walking past me if they’d ever heard of it. But that pawnshop
seemed to have sailed away like a ghost ship. I wanted to cry. And just when I’d
given up, when I turned one last corner and thought I might die if I didn’t find that
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pawnshop, there it was, in a space I swear it hadn’t occupied a few minutes ago.
I walked inside and greeted the pawnbroker, who looked a little younger than he
had before.
“It’s you,” he said.
“Yes, it’s me,” I said.
“Jackson Jackson.”
“That is my name.”
“Where are your friends?”
“They went travelling. But it’s O.K. Indians are everywhere.”
“Do you have the money?”
“How much do you need again?” I asked, and hoped the price had changed.
“Nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars.”
It was still the same price. Of course, it was the same price. Why would it change?
“I don’t have that,” I said.
“What do you have?”
“Five dollars.”
I set the crumpled Lincoln on the countertop. The pawnbroker studied it.
“Is that the same five dollars from yesterday?”
“No, it’s different.”
He thought about the possibilities.
“Did you work hard for this money?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
He closed his eyes and thought harder about the possibilities. Then he stepped
into the back room and returned with my grandmother’s regalia.
“Take it,” he said, and held it out to me.
“I don’t have the money.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“But I wanted to win it.”
“You did win it. Now take it before I change my mind.”
Do you know how many good men live in this world? Too many to count!
I took my grandmother’s regalia and walked outside. I knew that solitary yellow
bead was part of me. I knew I was that yellow bead in part. Outside, I wrapped
myself in my grandmother’s regalia and breathed her in. I stepped off the sidewalk
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and into the intersection. Pedestrians stopped. Cars stopped. The city stopped. They
all watched me dance with my grandmother. I was my grandmother, dancing. ♦
Published 4/21/03 in “The New Yorker”
THIS IS WHAT IT MEANS TO SAY PHOENIX, ARIZONA
by Sherman Alexie
Just after Victor lost his job at the BIA, he also found J out that his father had died of
a heart attack in Phoenix, Arizona. Victor hadn't seen his father in a few years, only
talked to him on the telephone once or twice, but there still was a genetic pain, which
was soon to be pain as real and immediate as a broken bone.
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Victor didn't have any money. Who does have money on a reservation, except the
cigarette and fireworks salespeople? His father had a savings account waiting to be
claimed, but Victor needed to find a way to get to Phoenix. Victor's mother was just
as poor as he was, and the rest of his family didn't have any use at all for him. So
Victor called the Tribal Council.
"Listen," Victor said. "My father just died. I need some money to get to Phoenix to
make arrangements."
"Now, Victor," the council said. "You know we're having a difficult time financially."
"But I thought the council had special funds set aside for stuff like this."
"Now, Victor, we do have some money available for the proper return of tribal
members' bodies. But I don't think we have enough to bring your father all the way
back from Phoenix."
"Well," Victor said. "It ain't going to cost all that much. He had to be cremated. Things
were kind of ugly. He died of a heart attack in his trailer and nobody found him for a
week. It was really hot, too. You get the picture."
"Now, Victor, we're sorry for your loss and the circumstances. But we can really only
afford to give you one hundred dollars."
"That's not even enough for a plane ticket."
"Well, you might consider driving down to Phoenix."
"I don't have a car. Besides, I was going to drive my father's pickup back up here."
"Now, Victor," the council said. "We're sure there is somebody who could drive you to
Phoenix. Or is there somebody who could lend you the rest of the money?"
"You know there ain't nobody around with that kind of money."
"Well, we're sorry, Victor, but that's the best we can do."
Victor accepted the Tribal Council's offer. What else could he do? So he signed the
proper papers, picked up his check, and walked over to the Trading Post to cash it.
While Victor stood in line, he watched Thomas Buildsthe-Fire standing near the
magazine rack, talking to himself. Like he always did. Thomas was a storyteller that
nobody wanted to listen to. That's like being a dentist in a town where everybody has
false teeth.
Victor and Thomas Builds-the-Fire were the same age, had grown up and played in
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the dirt together. Ever since Victor could remember, it was Thomas who always had
something to say.
Once, when they were seven years old, when Victor's father still lived with the
family, Thomas closed his eyes and told Victor this story: "Your father's heart is
weak. He is afraid of his own family. He is afraid of you. Late at night he sits in the
dark. Watches the television until there's nothing but that white noise. Sometimes he
feels like he wants to buy a motorcycle and ride away. He wants to run and hide. He
doesn't want to be found."
Thomas Builds-the-Fire had known that Victor's father was going to leave, knew it
before anyone. Now Victor stood in the Trading Post with a one-hundred-dollar
check in his hand, wondering if Thomas knew that Victor's father was dead, if he
knew what was going to happen next.
Just then Thomas looked at Victor, smiled, and walked over to him.
"Victor, I'm sorry about your father," Thomas said.
"How did you know about it?" Victor asked.
"I heard it on the wind. I heard it from the birds. I felt it in the sunlight. Also, your
mother was just in here crying."
"Oh," Victor said and looked around the Trading Post. All the other Indians stared,
surprised that Victor was even talking to Thomas. Nobody talked to Thomas because
he told the same damn stories over and over again. Victor was embarassed, but he
thought that Thomas might be able to help him. Victor felt a sudden need for
tradition.
"I can lend you the money you need," Thomas said suddenly. "But you have to take
me with you."
"I can't take your money," Victor said. "I mean, I haven't hardly talked to you in
years. We're not really friends anymore."
"I didn't say we were friends. I said you had to take me with you."
"Let me think about it."
Victor went home with his one hundred dollars and sat at the kitchen table. He held
his head in his hands and thought about Thomas Builds-the-Fire, remembered little
details, tears and scars, the bicycle they shared for a summer, so many stories.
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Thomas Builds-the-Fire sat on the bicycle, waited in Victor's yard. He was ten years
old and skinny. His hair was dirty because it was the Fourth of July.
"Victor," Thomas yelled. "Hurry up. We're going to miss the fireworks."
After a few minutes, Victor ran out of his house, jumped the porch railing, and
landed gracefully on the sidewalk.
"And the judges award him a 9.95, the highest score of the summer," Thomas said,
clapped, laughed.
"That was perfect, cousin," Victor said. "And it's my. turn to ride the bike."
Thomas gave up the bike and they headed for the fairgrounds. It was nearly dark
and the fireworks were about to start.
"You know," Thomas said. "It's strange how us Indians celebrate the Fourth of July. It
ain't like it was our independence everybody was fighting for."
"You think about things too much," Victor said. "It's just supposed to be fun. Maybe
junior will be there."
"Which Junior? Everybody on this reservation is named junior."
And they both laughed.
The fireworks were small, hardly more than a few bottle rockets and a fountain. But
it was enough for two Indian boys. Years later, they would need much more.
Afterwards, sitting in the dark, fighting off mosquitoes, Victor turned to Thomas
Builds-the-Fire.
"Hey," Victor said. "Tell me a story."
Thomas closed his eyes and told this story: "There were these two Indian boys who
wanted to be warriors. But it was too late to be warriors in the old way. All the horses
were gone. So the two Indian boys stole a car and drove to the city. They parked the
stolen car in front of the police station and then hitchhiked back home to the
reservation. When they got back, all their friends cheered and their parents' eyes
shone with pride. You were very brave, everybody said to the two Indian boys. Very
brave."
"Ya-hey," Victor said. "That's a good one. I wish I could be a warrior."
"Me, too," Thomas said.
They went home together in the dark, Thomas on the bike now, Victor on foot. They
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walked through shadows and light from streetlamps.
"We've come a long ways," Thomas said. "We have outdoor lighting."
"All I need is the stars," Victor said. "And besides, you still think about things too
much."
They separated then, each headed for home, both laughing all the way.
Victor sat at his kitchen table. He counted his one hundred dollars again and again.
He knew he needed more to make it to Phoenix and back. He knew he needed
Thomas Builds-theFire. So he put his money in his wallet and opened the front door
to find Thomas on the porch.
"Ya-hey, Victor," Thomas said. "I knew you'd call me."
Thomas walked into the living room and sat down on Victor's favorite chair.
"I've got some money saved up," Thomas said. "It's enough to get us down there, but
you have to get us back."
"I've got this hundred dollars," Victor said. "And my dad had a savings account I'm
going to claim."
"How much in your dad's account?"
"Enough. A few hundred."
"Sounds good. When we leaving?"
*
*
*
When they were fifteen and had long since stopped being friends, Victor and Thomas
got into a fistfight. That is, Victor was really drunk and beat Thomas up for no
reason at all. All the other Indian boys stood around and watched it happen. Junior
was there and so were Lester, Seymour, and a lot of others. The beating might have
gone on until Thomas was dead if Norma Many Horses hadn't come along and
stopped it.
"Hey, you boys," Norma yelled and jumped out of her car. "Leave him alone."
If it had been someone else, even another man, the Indian boys would've just
ignored the warnings. But Norma was a warrior. She was powerful. She could have
picked up any two of the boys and smashed their skulls together. But worse than
that, she would have dragged them all over to some tipi and made them listen to
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some elder tell a dusty old story.
The Indian boys scattered, and Norma walked over to Thomas and picked him up.
"Hey, little man, are you okay?" she asked.
Thomas gave her a thumbs up.
"Why they always picking on you?"
Thomas shook his head, closed his eyes, but no stories came to him, no words or
music. He just wanted to go home, to lie in his bed and let his dreams tell his stories
for him.
Thomas Builds-the-Fire and Victor sat next to each other in the airplane, coach
section. A tiny white woman had the window seat. She was busy twisting her body
into pretzels. She was flexible.
"I have to ask," Thomas said, and Victor closed his eyes in embarrassment.
"Don't," Victor said.
"Excuse me, miss," Thomas asked. "Are you a gymnast or something?"
"There's no something about it," she said. "I was first alternate on the 1980 Olympic
team."
"Really?" Thomas asked.
"Really."
"I mean, you used to be a world-class athlete?" Thomas asked.
"My husband still thinks I am."
Thomas Builds-the-Fire smiled. She was a mental gymnast, too. She pulled her leg
straight up against her body so that she could've kissed her kneecap.
"I wish I could do that," Thomas said.
Victor was ready to jump out of the plane. Thomas, that crazy Indian storyteller with
ratty old braids and broken teeth, was flirting with a beautiful Olympic gymnast.
Nobody back home on the reservation would ever believe it.
"Well," the gymnast said. "It's easy. Try it."
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Thomas grabbed at his leg and tried to pull it up into the same position as the
gymnast. He couldn't even come close, which made Victor and the gymnast laugh.
"Hey," she asked. "You two are Indian, right?"
"Full-blood," Victor said.
"Not me," Thomas said. "I'm half magician on my mother's side and half clown on
my father's."
They all laughed.
"What are your names?" she asked.
"Victor and Thomas."
"Mine is Cathy. Pleased to meet you all."
The three of them talked for the duration of the flight. Cathy the gymnast
complained about the government, how they screwed the 1980 Olympic team by
boycotting.
"Sounds like you all got a lot in common with Indians," Thomas said.
Nobody laughed.
After the plane landed in Phoenix and they had all found their way to the terminal,
Cathy the gymnast smiled and waved good-bye.
"She was really nice," Thomas said.
"Yeah, but everybody talks to everybody on airplanes," Victor said. "It's too bad we
can't always be that way."
"You always used to tell me I think too much," Thomas said. "Now it sounds like you
do."
"Maybe I caught it from you."
"Yeah."
Thomas and Victor rode in a taxi to the trailer where Victor's father died.
"Listen," Victor said .as they stopped in front of the trailer. "I never told you I was
sorry for beating you up that time."
"Oh, it was nothing. We were just kids and you were drunk."
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"Yeah, but I'm still sorry."
"That's all right."
Victor paid for the taxi and the two of them stood in the hot Phoenix summer. They
could smell the trailer.
"This ain't going to be nice," Victor said. "You don't have to go in."
"You're going to need help."
Victor walked to the front door and opened it. The stink rolled out and made them
both gag. Victor's father had lain in that trailer for a week in hundred-degree
temperatures before anyone found him. And the only reason anyone found him was
because of the smell. They needed dental records to identify him. That's exactly what
the coroner said. They needed dental records.
"Oh, man," Victor said. "I don't know if I can do this."
"Well, then don't."
"But there might be something valuable in there."
"I thought his money was in the bank."
"It is. I was talking about pictures and letters and stuff like that."
"Oh," Thomas said as he held his breath and followed Victor into the trailer.
When Victor was twelve, he stepped into an underground wasp nest. His foot was
caught in the hole, and no matter how hard he struggled, Victor couldn't pull free. He
might have died there, stung a thousand times, if Thomas Builds-the-Fire had not
come by.
"Run," Thomas yelled and pulled Victor's foot from the hole. They ran then, hard as
they ever had, faster than Billy Mills, faster than Jim Thorpe, faster than the wasps
could fly.
Victor and Thomas ran until they couldn't breathe, ran until it was cold and dark
outside, ran until they were lost and it took hours to find their way home. All the way
back, Victor counted his stings.
"Seven," Victor said. "My lucky number."
*
*
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Victor didn't find much to keep in the trailer. Only a photo album and a stereo.
Everything else had that smell stuck in it or was useless anyway.
"I guess this is all," Victor said. "It ain't much."
"Better than nothing," Thomas said.
"Yeah, and I do have the pickup."
"Yeah," Thomas said. "It's in good shape."
"Dad was good about that stuff."
"Yeah, I remember your dad."
"Really?" Victor asked. "What do you remember?"
Thomas Builds-the-Fire closed his eyes and told this story: "I remember when I had
this dream that told me to go to Spokane, to stand by the Falls in the middle of the
city and wait for a sign. I knew I had to go there but I didn't have a car. Didn't have a
license. I was only thirteen. So I walked all the way, took me all day, and I finally
made it to the Falls. I stood there for an hour waiting. Then your dad came walking
up. What the hell are you doing here? he asked me. I said, Waiting for a vision. Then
your father said, All you're going to get here is mugged. So he drove me over to
Denny's, bought me dinner, and then drove me home to the reservation. For a long
time I was mad because I thought my dreams had lied to me. But they didn't. Your
dad was my vision. Take care of each other is what my dreams were saying. Take care
of each other."
Victor was quiet for a long time. He searched his mind for memories of his father,
found the good ones, found a few bad ones, added it all up, and smiled.
"My father never told me about finding you in Spokane," Victor said.
"He said he wouldn't tell anybody. Didn't want me to get in trouble. But he said I had
to watch out for you as part of the deal."
"Really?"
"Really. Your father said you would need the help. He was right."
"That's why you came down here with me, isn't it?" Victor asked.
"I came because of your father."
Victor and Thomas climbed into the pickup, drove over to the bank, and claimed the
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three hundred dollars in the savings account.
Thomas Builds-the-Fire could fly.
Once, he jumped off the roof of the tribal school and flapped his arms like a crazy
eagle. And he flew. For a second, he hovered, suspended above all the other Indian
boys who were too smart or too scared to jump.
"He's flying," junior yelled, and Seymour was busy looking for the trick wires or
mirrors. But it was real. As real as the dirt when Thomas lost altitude and crashed to
the ground.
He broke his arm in two places.
"He broke his wing," Victor chanted, and the other Indian boys joined in, made it a
tribal song.
"He broke his wing, he broke his wing, he broke his wing," all the Indian boys
chanted as they ran off, flapping their wings, wishing they could fly, too. They hated
Thomas for his courage, his brief moment as a bird. Everybody has dreams about
flying. Thomas flew.
One of his dreams came true for just a second, just enough to make it real.
Victor's father, his ashes, fit in one wooden box with enough left over to fill a
cardboard box.
"He always was a big man," Thomas said.
Victor carried part of his father and Thomas carried the rest out to the pickup. They
set him down carefully behind the seats, put a cowboy hat on the wooden box and a
Dodgers cap on the cardboard box. That's the way it was supposed to be.
"Ready to head back home," Victor asked.
"It's going to be a long drive."
"Yeah, take a couple days, maybe."
"We can take turns," Thomas said.
"Okay," Victor said, but they didn't take turns. Victor drove for sixteen hours straight
north, made it halfway up Nevada toward home before he finally pulled over.
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"Hey, Thomas," Victor said. "You got to drive for a while."
"Okay."
Thomas Builds-the-Fire slid behind the wheel and started off down the road. All
through Nevada, Thomas and Victor had been amazed at the lack of animal life, at
the absence of water, of movement.
"Where is everything?" Victor had asked more than once.
Now when Thomas was finally driving they saw the first animal, maybe the only
animal in Nevada. It was a long-eared jackrabbit.
"Look," Victor yelled. "It's alive."
Thomas and Victor were busy congratulating themselves on their discovery when
the jackrabbit darted out into the road and under the wheels of the pickup.
"Stop the goddamn car," Victor yelled, and Thomas did stop, backed the pickup to the
dead jackrabbit.
"Oh, man, he's dead," Victor said as he looked at the squashed animal.
"Really dead."
"The only thing alive in this whole state and we just killed it."
"I don't know," Thomas said. "I think it was suicide."
Victor looked around the desert, sniffed the air, felt the emptiness and loneliness, and
nodded his head.
"Yeah," Victor said. "It had to be suicide."
"I can't believe this," Thomas said. "You drive for a thousand miles and there ain't
even any bugs smashed on the windshield. I drive for ten seconds and kill the only
living thing in Nevada."
Yeah," Victor said. "Maybe I should drive."
"Maybe you should."
Thomas Builds-the-Fire walked through the corridors of the tribal school by himself.
Nobody wanted to be anywhere near him because of all those stories. Story after
story.
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Thomas closed his eyes and this story came to him: "We are all given one thing by
which our lives are measured, one determination. Mine are the stories which can
change or not change the world. It doesn't matter which as long as I continue to tell
the stories. My father, he died on Okinawa in World War II, died fighting for this
country, which had tried to kill him for years. My mother, she died giving birth to
me, died while I was still inside her. She pushed me out into the world with her last
breath. I have no brothers or sisters. I have only my stories which came to me before
I even had the words to speak. I learned a thousand stories before I took my first
thousand steps. They are all I have. It's all I can do."
Thomas Builds-the-Fire told his stories to all those who would stop and listen. He kept
telling them long after people had stopped listening.
Victor and Thomas made it back to the reservation just as the sun was rising. It was
the beginning of a new day on earth, but the same old shit on the reservation.
"Good morning," Thomas said.
"Good morning."
The tribe was waking up, ready for work, eating breakfast, reading the newspaper,
just like everybody else does. Willene LeBret was out in her garden wearing a
bathrobe. She waved when Thomas and Victor drove by.
"Crazy Indians made it," she said to herself and went back to her roses.
Victor stopped the pickup in front of Thomas BuildstheFire's HUD house. They both
yawned, stretched a little, shook dust from their bodies.
"I'm tired," Victor said.
"Of everything," Thomas added.
They both searched for words to end the journey. Victor needed to thank Thomas for
his help, for the money, and make the promise to pay it all back.
"Don't worry about the money," Thomas said. "It don't make any difference anyhow."
"Probably not, enit?"
"Nope."
Victor knew that Thomas would remain the crazy storyteller who talked to dogs and
cars, who listened to the wind and pine trees. Victor knew that he couldn't really be
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friends with Thomas, even after all that had happened. It was cruel but it was real.
As real as the ashes, as Victor's father, sitting behind the seats.
"I know how it is," Thomas said. "I know you ain't going to treat me any better than
you did before. I know your friends would give you too much shit about it."
Victor was ashamed of himself. Whatever happened to the tribal ties, the sense of
community? The only real thing he shared with anybody was a bottle and broken
dreams. He owed Thomas something, anything.
"Listen," Victor said and handed Thomas the cardboard box which contained half of
his father. "I want you to have this."
Thomas took the ashes and smiled, closed his eyes, and told this story: "I'm going to
travel to Spokane Falls one last time and toss these ashes into the water. And your
father will rise like a salmon, leap over the bridge, over me, and find his way home.
It will be beautiful. His teeth will shine like silver, like a rainbow. He will rise, Victor,
he will rise."
Victor smiled.
"I was planning on doing the same thing with my half," Victor said. "But I didn't
imagine my father looking anything like a salmon. I thought it'd be like cleaning the
attic or something. Like letting things go after they've stopped having any use.
"Nothing stops, cousin," Thomas said. "Nothing stops."
Thomas Builds-the-Fire got out of the pickup and walked up his driveway. Victor
started the pickup and began the drive home.
"Wait," Thomas yelled suddenly from his porch. "I just got to ask one favor."
Victor stopped the pickup, leaned out the window, and shouted back. "What do you
want?"
"Just one time when I'm telling a story somewhere, why don't you stop and listen?"
Thomas asked.
"Just once?"
"Just once."
Victor waved his arms to let Thomas know that the deal was good. It was a fair trade,
and that was all Victor had ever wanted from his whole life. So Victor drove his
father's pickup toward home while Thomas went into his house, closed the door
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behind him, and heard a new story come to him in the silence afterwards.
First published in Esquire In 1994
Anthologized in Best American Short Stories of 1994
Adapted with other Alexie stories for the 1998 film Smoke Signals
Native Identity Log
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Each time the identity of the author is discussed, OR an event from American
Indian history is shared, write a brief description of the moment in the book,
and then analyze the author’s reason for including that moment. What effect
does it have on the reader’s understanding of that story?
Name:____________________________________________
Description of reference
Date: _______________________
Effect on the reader’s
understanding
ABBREVIATED HISTORICAL TIMELINE OF INDIAN HISTORY
Adapted from: http://facstaff.uww.edu/guliga/uwec/american_indian_history_timeline.htm
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1990 Native American Grave Protection and Repatriation Act (Public Law
101-601), United States, requires museums and federal agencies to return
human remains, funerary and sacred objects and objects of cultural patrimony
to tribes that can show they had belonged to the tribe and had been removed
without the tribe's consent. Trafficking in human remains is prohibited.
1987 Congress passed the Indian Gaming Act limiting tribes to gaming ventures
allowed by states.
1978 Indian Child Welfare Act, United States, protecting Indian tribes' interest
in retaining custody of their children.
1975 Indian Self-Determination and Education Assistance Act, establishing
policy to permit greater governmental and administrative powers to Indian
tribes.
1968 American Indian Movement founded in Minneapolis
1960 Canada grants citizenship to Indians.
1949-1960 Relocation. The Bureau of Indian Affairs relocated some 35,000
Indians from reservations to cities.
1934 Wheeler-Howard (Indian Reorganization) Act, permitted tribes to
organize and write constitutions for self government, and directed the
government to consolidate and conserve Indian lands, and encouraged
education and economic plans for Indians; the Johnson-O'Malley Act
authorized contracts with states to administer educational, medical, and
welfare programs on Indian reservations. In 1974, the Johnson-O'Malley Act
was amended to encourage Indian direction of such programs.
1924 United States Indians given citizenship, although right to vote denied by
several states; Utah the last to enfranchise Indians, in 1960, in state elections.
1906 United States Antiquities Act establishes national jurisdiction over
antiquities.
1903 Lone Wolf v. Hitchcock, the Supreme Court ruled that Lone Wolf, a Kiowa,
could not obstruct the implementation of allotment on Kiowa land, regardless
of Kiowa consent: the case established Congress' power to unilaterally break
treaties. The Court declared the Indians to be "an ignorant and dependent
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race" that must be governed by the "Christian people" of the United States.
1902 Cherokee Nation v. Hitchcock, the Supreme Court held the United States
has the power to overrule Cherokee laws.
1890 Ghost Dance Movement led by the Paiute prophet Wovoka gains influence
among western Indians. At Wounded Knee, United States troops massacre 300+
Sioux Indians en route to a Ghost Dance celebration.
1887 Dawes Allotment Act, authorizes the break-up of Indian reservations into
individual allotments usually of 160 acres, and the sale of "surplus" lands
remaining after enrolled tribal members had received allotments (no provision
for later generations)
1884 Congress acknowledges the rights of Eskimos to Alaskan territorial lands.
1881 Sitting Bull and his band of 187 surrender to officials at Fort Buford, North
Dakota.
1879 Richard Pratt founds the Carlisle Indian School in Pennsylvania, with the
philosophy of assimilating Indians into white culture.
1879-85 Many "Friends of the Indian" organizations are founded, including
Indian Protection Committee, Indian Rights Association, Women's National
Indian Association, and National Indian Defense Association.
1877 Flight of the Nez Perce under Chief Joseph in the Northwest.
1876-77 Sioux War for the Black Hills, involving the Sioux, Cheyennes, and
Arapahos, under Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse. In 1876, the Battle of Little
Bighorn.
1871 Gold discovered in the Black Hills of South Dakota. Treaties protecting
Indian lands ignored by miners.
1869-70 Smallpox epidemic among Canadian Plains Indian including Blackfeet,
Piegans, and Bloods.
1868 Indians are denied the right to vote as a result of the 14th Amendment.
1867 "Peace Commission" makes a survey of Indian affairs and recommends
that the current treaty process be abandoned. This commission and the Nez
Perce Indians negotiate the last of 370 treaties between the federal
government and tribes.
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1862-63 Santee Sioux stage an uprising in Minnesota under Chief Little Crow.
In 1863-64, it spreads to North Dakota and involves the Teton Sioux as well.
Thirty-eight Indians are sentenced and hanged.
1853-56 United States acquires 174 million acres of Indian lands through 52
treaties, all of which are subsequently broken by whites.
1844 The first issues of the Cherokee Advocate are published in Oklahoma.
Federal soldiers confiscate the press.
1835 Texas declares itself a republic independent from Mexico. The Texas
Rangers are organized to campaign against the Comanches.
1834 Congress reorganizes the Indian offices, creating the U.S. Department of
Indian Affairs (still within the War Department). The Trade and Intercourse
Act redefines the Indian Territory and Permanent Indian Frontier, and gives
the army the right to quarantine Indians.
1831 Cherokee Nation v. Georgia, Chief Justice John Marshall ruled that the
Indians form "domestic dependent nations" over which the United States is
guardian, as over wards.
1830 Indian Removal Act narrowly passes Congress, calling for relocation of
eastern Indians to an Indian territory west of the Mississippi River. Cherokees
contest it in court, and in 1832, the Supreme Court decides in their favor, but
Andrew Jackson ignores the decision. From 1831-39, the Five Civilized tribes of
the Southeast are relocated to the Indian Territory. The Cherokee "Trail of
Tears" takes place in 1838-39.
1789 U.S. Constitution, several clauses relate the importance and place of
American Indians in the new republic.
Socratic Seminar Preparation: Asking Open-Ended Questions
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Write questions using these sentence frames to stimulate your thinking about
the Huey video that we just watched. Be prepared to discuss these notes.
What puzzles me is…
I’d like to talk with people about…
I’m confused about…
Don’t you think this is similar to…
Now, write questions using these sentence frames to stimulate your thinking
about Ceremony. Be prepared to utilize these notes in the seminar.
Do you agree that the big ideas seem to be...
I have questions about…
Another point of view is…
I think Silko wants to say…
Do you think…
What does it mean when Silko says…
Do you agree that…
Smoke Signals Film Discussion Questions
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1. What is the role of storytelling in this film? What kind of authority does it have?
What do you think the film is saying about the difference between stories and “the
truth”?
2. A good deal of the film takes place in the past, either through Victor’s flashbacks
or Thomas’s stories. What is the role of the past in the film?
3. The film often addresses the stereotype of the stoic and “real” Native American.
What physical attributes are tied into this stereotype, and how to the characters in
the film reinforce or defy
4. How are traditional symbols of mainstream America (e.g. basketball , John
Wayne) repurposed by Native Americans in the film?
5. What is the role of Suzie Song, a non-reservation Native from New York, in the
film? How does she relate to some of the other characters in the film, such as Victor’s
mother? What’s the significance of her being a wandering Native American from
New York?
6. In the film, fire burns down both Thomas’ childhood home and Victor’s father’s
unused trailer. What is the significance of the matching fires and what do they
symbolize? What other places or symbols in the film repeat and occur in both the
flashbacks and the present?
7. The title of the film was changed to Smoke Signals from “This is What it Means to
Say Phoenix, Arizona”. What do you think the director is trying to say about the
significance of smoke signals in this film? What about communication in general?
8. Is it obvious that Smoke Signals was based on a book? How is it similar to and/or
different from other films adapted from books?
9. Music has a very central place film, both through characters singing or playing
instruments and the additional soundtrack. Were there any musical selections in the
film that stood out to you, and why?
Monomyth & Ceremony
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How is Ceremony a monomyth structured novel? Consider the graphic to help you
find examples from the text.
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Final Paper
Compose a 5-7 page paper focusing on ONE of the texts that we have read about
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Native American Literature. Consider the nature of identity, revision of
stereotypes, resistance to colonization, traditional connection with the land,
and the complexity of sovereignty. Carefully consider the form, language, and
imagery of the texts, and keep in mind the cultural context of the works. Make
a clear argument about how you think the text you have chosen makes
meaning.
Category
Points Possible
Format
2
● MLA format followed: 2 inch margins, 12pt. font
1
● Meets the 5­7 page requirement
1
Content
11
● Displays critical thinking that moves beyond
summary­­ analyses the text in question and draws
conclusions about the observations on the text to
develop a clear argument
● Includes clear consideration of the topics and themes
we have discussed in class.
● Cites examples from the text and provides a clear
description as to how those examples support the
argument of the paper
● Attempts to convince the reader of the truth of their
argument
Mechanics
3
3
3
2
2
● Is logically organized, easy to read and easy to
follow
1
● Uses appropriate tone, correct grammar, and
developed phrasing
1
Total
15
Notes:
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Points Earned
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87