Deep Thoughts

Yesterday we went to an event that had me thinking a lot. The big money maker in Temecula, the casino, was hosting a powwow, complete with dancing, booths full of turquoise jewelry, and (my personal favorite) FRYBREAD! It was quite similar to the ones I attended as a teenager with its steady rhythm and overflow of heritage.

We went with some friends and at one point K turned to me and asked, "So, what is your heritage?" "A little bit of everything," I told her. Normally, this makes things easy for me. I am the archetype of The Great American Melting Pot, a blending of many people into one. Of course those many people all come from Europe, so the original palette was missing a lot of colors, kind of like mixing eggshell with ivory with ecru with off-white with pearl. A pretty pale picture, compared to some.

Nothing points this out to me like sitting with a group of people who have gathered to celebrate their heritage. As I watched the boys doing their traditional dances yesterday I could see a connection, strong and nearly invisible, like fishing line, stretching back to their ancestors. The dancers, the drummers, the chanters, the observers - all are ruled by the same beat for a time. They were doing something that generations before them had done. No matter what their present was like, they could step, for a moment, into a place that was common to all.

I often fantasized as a child that I was an Indian maiden, bonded with the forest around me, special because of my connection with the earth. In those powwows of my adolescent years, I embraced the colors and symbols and rhythms as though I might be able to force them to become part of me. As I grew up, I realized that there was much more to Native American history - so much suffering, sorrow and betrayal. I don't envy them the cultural dissonance they live, trying to balance their present with their past, but I still wish I could have that depth of history, that direct line back to my ancestors that they have when they start to move their feet to the beat of those drums. It echoes in my chest, slowing me down, making me think.