| July 1, 2005 The Whitest Native by Owen Cruise, insurgent49 “Yeah, there’s a lot of people in town for a forty-day party,” the hotel owner tells me. “Pretty much just a big drunk.” I nod silently in acknowledgement. I don’t tell the man differently. I want my pet deposit back in the morning. A forty-day party occurs forty days after the death of a Tlingit tribesperson. It is a beautiful ceremony of remembrance involving the giving of gifts, dancing and eating. It can also be an opportunity for elders to bestow Tlingit names to the younger ones. This man wouldn’t expect me to know any of this, because when I look in the mirror, there’s a Caucasian man staring back. Like so many in this country, I am the product of a mixed ethnic marriage. My physical appearance has always left me feeling alienated from other Tlingits. This was especially true in my adolescence. In school I’d stay silent while my friends joked about drunken Natives. I would listen to people who were miffed about all the Native’s “free money” money received as dividends from tribal corporations. I kept quiet; there was no pride then, no understanding of my people’s history and culture. I’ve grown since then, and have acquired a different perspective. Where someone might look at Mt. Rushmore, patriotic feelings stirring in his belly, I see the desecration of the sacred lands of my cousins. Where someone may see unfairness in native dividends, I see inadequate compensation for generations of lost culture, language, and art. Just this morning I listened to a county official in New York state comment on a court decision over tribal sovereignty. The local tribe had won land as reparations, but a new ruling says that the new land does not fall under the Native nation’s sovereignty. The official said something to the effect of, “…I thought we were all Americans, we should be working toward unity.” Such an opinion shows a common ignorance of this country’s history. America is a white man’s name. And, unlike the succession of states that voted to join the Union, the indigenous nations of the continent we’re never given that choice. They were engulfed by a greedy nation with an underdeveloped sense of humanity. With that kind of violent past, America should be quite pleased at how well Natives have integrated into white society. This token of autonomy should be the least the government can do. I was finally given a native name in my late teens. I received it from the wife of the last Chilkat chief, both now resting in peace. It is Ka’Cheet, meaning “coho leaping out of water.” An appropriate name for a member of the Coho clan. For me, that name represents the side of me that wants to connect with all the indigenous peoples of this state. As I sit by the side of my Tlingit grandmother, there is no confusion about my identity. I feel like me, and I am of this land. Owen Cruise is a freelance journalist, husband, and father who lives in an undisclosed location in Eagle River, Alaska. He can be reached at owen@insurgent49.com. |
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2005
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Reserved. in-sur-gent (in sur'jent), n. 1. a member of a group which revolts against the policies of its leadership. |
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