A Journey Through My Heart – Part II

As few days have passed since I set forth the beginning of my explanation of my journey – much has changed. I have learned much but in a disenheartening way. I thought when I started this jorney it was to help my ancestors who some live in third world country environments. I started to network and even befriended one person who I thought was a special Native American a person I could call a friend for now to eternity. So much has changed.

I have found because I am not a pure blood indian that I am not seen as anything more than a white girl. I write this in tears as my heart is broken. I never thought the Native American’s would think so poorly of someone who didn’t have a choice in the matter when it came to living on the reservation. My help though genuine and true didn’t mean anything – but the more I looked the more I seen many, many organizations and charities doing the same thing – even one I belong to as a member. Some are Native American Run while others are not but because they bring forth things the people of the reservation are so very much in need of they are accepted and respected. Oddly they are as white skinned as me some with real blonde hair not the kind in a box I use.

My grandmother was born in 1899 and she was 1/2 Cherokee – she was a healer in her small mountainous community – many came to her or she went to them in their times of need passing along what her full blood Cherokee mother had taught her. She was a good woman and no one cared up in the Alleghany mountains if you were white or Indian what counted was that you were a good person – a good neighbor; besides most knew many of them were mixed either with Cherokee or Shawnee. I even have part of my great grandmother’s family in a picture in OKlahoma – this was so odd to see during this time in history until I put two and two together and found they had been led on the Trail of Tears.

I do not know where to go from here with my journey and this saddens my heart deeply because I know the traditions I was brought up knowing – I know who I am but my grandmother’s sister house burned down with the family bible and so it is our history was lost – the true history – not what the census members were told – “black” or they hid the children who were more darker than the others. This was a common practice in the mountains.

Mountain people learned early on to live with the Native American’s and the Native American’s did not shun them or harm them in fact many of them married bring forth children who would not be able to go back to where it was their hearts were from – their people whom their parents spoke of and for me I was told I am a wanna be but if you join my mother’s line with my father’s line – both being from the same mountain areas I would have much blood in my veins that beat to a drum I have only heard played by my ancestors.

Why do the Native American’s distrust us so much – I was reading on a site where it was suppose to be helping you to find your NA tribes oddly the first paragraph was about “if you think you’re going to get money because you’re recognized as an Indian you will do better to play the lottery”(1). How cold – how sad that made my heart to think the only reason why Native Americans would only think we wanted money. I live in the real world – on disability – and the money I make from selling my books -  I could head down to the welfare office and get just about anything I wanted from our government but I don’t because to me I can do this on my own – we may have to do without things that wealthier folks have but that’s okay – I don’t look for handouts. I make $714.00 a month so ask me how I manage and I’ll tell you by the grace of God and two angels.

As I stated in part I of my journey I always give money to organizations with the money I make with my books – give and you shall receive is the way I was brought up – with a good heart – with a strong pride in family and values and an extreme respect for my elders.But Native American’s confuse me greatly – they don’t want someone like me or if someone like me wants to know more about her grandmother’s ways and practices – tough shit – you’re not a pedigree Indian.

I refuse to believe this is so of all the tribes or all the Native American people – I refuse to believe their hearts so cold and mean that all they can see is some “white girl” looking for a hand out or not taking the time to look into the heart of her and seeing the spirit fire alive but fading fast after being so shunned by a society who mistrusts far too many for the wrong reasons.

I was not at Wounded Knee or any other battle but my great great Aunt was on the trail of tears – Our family never enslaved a black person and much of our family succeeded to West Virginia or Kentucky to avoid fighting a fight that didn’t concern them considering they lived primitive lifestyles already. The Civil War wasn’t a war for those too far east of the Blue Ridge it was a political war between the North and the South over regions that had great plantations and were wealthy – much like any war really. My family for the most part were poor – life was hard but it was livable and they thrived without help – just as I do. I learned to be proud and take care of my children but too I learned to be proud of who my heritage was only my ancestors aren’t proud to know me.

I’m broken now – my heart is wounded and I don’t know as I stand in this fork in the road which direction to choose. I had a great vision and it still can be but I will have to see kinder hearts and find people who accept pure hearts before I can move forward onto the next level of my journey. I’ve never felt the brunt of racism until I began this journey and my heart aches for people who have felt this now that I have understanding of how painful it truly is – I can only pray that Grandfather will show me which path to take but as much love in my heart as I have for the Native American’s I’m not on disability because I’m well – it’s because I am sick at an early age in life so as much as I love my ancestors and hope they will find it in their hearts to accept me for who I am as I do them if the can’t then I will have to step down because my health won’t allow for me to fight a battle that is centuries old with adversity and hatred all along the way. I must think hard on this and pray about it to see what the next step in my journey will be – which path I will take. –

To Be Continued…

(1)http://www.native-languages.org/genealogy.htm#descendent