Whenever I tell people that I am part Native American, they look at me with a skeptical eye and that confused look is usually followed by laughter. Maybe they laugh because of my blonde hair or maybe its because of my pale white skin--but no matter the reasoning, they usually don't believe me.
I am proud of my heritage. I do not claim to know very much about the history of my people because I don't, but all my life I have felt a connection to these people and their culture. I remember when I was 5 years old, I was playing with our neighbors in their backyard in Portola. We found some arrowheads in their backyard and I kept them as treasures from the past. When I was 10 and we moved to a house in Loomis, the backyard had Indian grinding stones and we would go and gather acorns, grind them up in the holes and pretend like we were the Indian women making dinner for the tribe. To us this was just fun and games but in a way it always came with a sense of reverence.
When I was 15 I took a trip with my dad to my Grandmas house. We went the long way and made a few sidetrips. We turned off the main highway, crossed the river and started descending down on a dirt road barely big enough to fit the car. We finally got to the bottom and it was a small railroad camp. My dad pointed to a spot by the river. That spot was where my great grandma Nina Wood was born in a teepee. I remembering thinking--this is SO cool!
My dad and all his siblings went to register for the tribe and when they walked into the office, the people just stared at them. They thought at first--maybe they think we are imposters--but when they talked to the people they found that the stares came because they looked exactly like relatives of these people. The people in the office pulled out the geneology books and they showed my dad and his siblings the family tree and where they fit into it. They belonged to this tribe and its nice to belong to something.
As I have come to college I have been blessed to get my education for free because of my heritage. But along with that has come the need to defend my heritage and that I actually belong. People take one look at me and they see my Norwegian heritage. But if they looked closer they would see my high cheekbones and my big-boned build. They would see the Indian in me.
I was hanging out with a friend of mine a lot when he had gotten sick. He was worried that he would give me what he had but I told him not to worry, because I am strong and I never get sick. He replied by saying--Oh yeah you got that medicine man watching over you at night--I just laughed but at the same time I realized I kind of feel safer and watched over with him there. The wrinkles next to his eyes remind me of the wrinkles next to my Grandma's eyes. The look of leather in his skin reminds me of my great Grandpa Wood. Whats in the big chief on my ceiling is in my Grandma and its in my Great Grandpa and it is in me.
Two years ago we had a family reunion. We were all sitting in a pavillion outside after our annual golf-tournament and our family started talking about things we remembered. My dad started sharing how my great Grandpa Wood always wanted the family to be together. He said that he would be sad that people were missing from this reunion. We all sat there with tears in our eyes and I think we realized that we had strayed from what was most important--family. In our heritage the tribe was a group of people organized for mutual care and benefit. They looked out for one another. We had let our tribe disintegrate. We had lost people we cared about. Hopefully one day we can all be together again and care for one another like we should.
I love my heritage because it gives me a sense of who I am. As the old saying goes--you can't know where you are going until you know where you have been. I am who I am because of my family.
So when people call me Sacajawea or give me a blanket as a joke I, I take it with a smile because it reminds me of who I am and what an amazing place I come from. And when I go to sleep at night I look up at the big chief and know that I am watched over and that I will always have somewhere to go.
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