As part of Native American Heritage Month, we have asked some of our Native American employees and board members to contribute to our blog as guest writers. We asked them what Native American Heritage Month means to them, and what they would want the community to know. Join us as we open our platform to new voices on our blog!
By Rachel White
Native American Heritage Month is a time to honor rich cultures, traditions and histories of Native American People. I was asked to write a guest blog, and will attempt to address certain topics (CULTURE, TRADITION, HISTORY) that hold significance to me, and share life experiences that relate to my Native American Heritage.
When I think of CULTURE, a few words come to mind: Peace, Love, Equality, and Thankfulness. I was raised in a home with no yelling and no fighting. My grandparents always emphasized getting along with others and demonstrating love to our neighbors. My grandfather was always fixing lawn mowers and cars for people, picking kids up for church or coaching basketball. My grandmother was always feeding people, doing bead work or sewing something for someone. They helped one another, and they expected us to help as well. We had friends from all Nations with different backgrounds. We recognized our differences but got along. I was taught to garden, cook, and fix and build things. Jobs were assigned by need, not by gender. As an adult, I continue to teach my family these cultural values passed along to me by my Grandparents. I’m thankful for the things they taught me and what I consider to be reflective of our Native CULTURE.
Spending time with my cousins and telling stories are two of my most favorite TRADITIONS. I looked forward to visiting my cousins at Fort Oakland every summer. The June powwow was the best. My girl cousins looked so beautiful in their dresses and beaded headbands. Some of my favorite memories come from times spent with them leading up to the powwow. We would drive go-carts, ride bikes, shoot bows, hike in the woods, and eat government cheese melted on leftover fry bread for lunch. Taking time to braid my nieces’ hair before they danced was a very special time for me, and I hope to continue this TRADITION for many years.
Telling stories is another TRADITION. There is real art and entertainment involved in storytelling. It is best at night around a fire. We would go to church camp, family reunions, and out-of-town visits with friends and family. There was always a group of us staying up until the early hours of the morning telling stories that Grandparents and Aunties and Uncles told us. The stories were about little people (tiny people that create mischief, usually found in the woods but can be anywhere), ancestors, elders, shape-shifters, deer ladies, stagenie (stah-gin-ee), floating people, balls of hair, horsehair and owls. The feeling of not knowing if the story is fiction or non-fiction stays with a person for a lifetime. It makes a story memorable enough to share with my children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews.
We often think of HISTORY as being far removed. Things that happened a long time ago to people we’re related to, but didn’t know. Last spring, our family had the opportunity to visit The Heard Museum. My adopted son and his friend picked out the museum after researching on the Internet. They are both African American, but there was something about the museum that interested them. As we walked through the museum, they asked questions and made comments.
“Hey mom, that clay pot looks like the one we bought on the mountain when we were with your Elder Ella.”
“Do you think people really carried kids around on a wood board?”
My reply was “yes,” because I’ve seen pictures of my great grandma carrying me in a wooden cradle on her back. I think I lost the cradle in one of my many moves as an adult. I still have my baby moccasins, though, and the moccasins that still fit me today. I showed these to the kids when we returned to Kansas.
One section in the Heard Museum was about Indian Boarding Schools. I shared with my husband and the kids that Grandma Margaret went to Chilocco Indian School. All of her siblings went there. Her older siblings were not given a choice, but she and my Uncle Ben chose to go there because it is where her siblings went, and it is what they knew. I shared with them that I remember driving by Chilocco south of Arkansas City on the way to visit relatives in Oklahoma.
My Grandma attended some of the reunions before she passed in 2022. As I told my husband, son and his friend about the experiences that my grandma told me about, I realized that there were several people beginning to walk up and listen. It reminded me that HISTORY didn’t happen that long ago. It also gave me a sense of pride and resilience — pride because I’ve learned about HISTORY directly from someone who experienced it, and resilience because the accusations of stupidity that my grandmother endured were not true. She went on to become a nurse, and her children and grandchildren have gone on to earn Master’s Degrees and help in our community. It was a very significant moment, and I was very thankful that I could share HISTORY with family and strangers.
Although I’m not a full blood, my Native American Heritage is part of who I am. It is how I grew up and it has shaped me as a person. We Native Americans are still here — we are not only in the past. I’m grateful to have a month set aside to reflect and celebrate. Mvto (thank you).
Rachel White is from the Muscogee Creek Nation and is Vice Chair of the Hunter Health Board of Directors
