I was very pleased to find Native Americans represented in Read
the Spirit’s interfaith and intercultural catalog. Warren Petoskey, an elder
of the Waganakising Odawa and Minneconjou Lakotah
tribes, was encouraged by friends and colleagues to compile his essays and other writings into a single book, that serves as a combination memoir,
collection of spiritual poetry, and social commentary on his experience as both
a member of his specific family and as a Native American who has walked in both
worlds—contemporary mainstream America and traditional tribal communities—and
is still trying to reconcile the interactions of the two in his own life.
What sticks out for me the most about Petoskey’s writing is the
lack of victim mentality. I’ve heard so many people talk about “complaining
Indians,” and say things like “Why don’t Indians just get over it
already?—What’s in the past is in the past.”
What such people don’t realize is many of the injustices Native
people speak out about are still very present. Some of the nastiest of Indian
assimilation and / or extermination programs weren’t legally abolished until
the 1970s—after the Civil Rights Movement. I know people who aren’t
much older than me who were abducted from their Native families at very young
ages and put in government-run boarding schools for Indian children, with
brutal curriculums reminiscent of military boot camp and which carried inhumane
penalties for practicing anything Indian—language, prayer, dress, or ways of
relating to people.
Once you read Petoskey’s book, it’ll be much easier to understand
why many Native people are still quite bitter and mistrusting, but that’s not
Petoskey’s focus. Instead, he takes a refreshingly more dignified approach in
how he tells the story of his family’s experiences with the Indian boarding
school program, alcoholism, domestic violence, and struggling to be Indian when
most of the people around them wished they weren’t.
Petoskey explains this situation concisely when describing his
great-grandfather, whom the northern Michigan city of Petoskey was named after:
“He had to develop the skills to live in one world—a world not of his
choosing—while keeping his feet and heart centered in another in order to
maintain his sanity. It is no different for us today” (24).
Petoskey’s pure heart and lack of bitterness come through in many
quotable passages in his book, especially one from his chapter “Come Follow
Me,” in which he describes how he and his wife Barb developed their Christian
ministry: “I don’t believe any of these experiences hindered my efforts to
fulfill my purpose on this Earth. My path continued to open like a fresh-cut
trail—even if sometimes I had no choice but to step off that trail. I believe
that what I longed and searched for would be fulfilled as long as I submitted
to the Creator’s will” (113).
Much of the injustices Petoskey talks about in his book I knew of
already, so I can only imagine how they’ll come across to readers for whom it’s
all new information. No doubt, the first question will be, “Why have we never
heard about this before?” What
I like about Petoskey’s tale is, he doesn’t feel the need to beat
readers over the head with it, or rant about how our schools, government, and
news media are full of omissions and lies—He simply states the facts, describes
his and his family’s responses to them, and lets readers draw their own
conclusions and have their own reactions.
His style is very simple, straightforward, but very deep, mixing
straight prose with short chapters of poetry he’s written about his everyday
spirituality. He shows that his life has been very hard, and admits without
excuse that he himself made many of the mistakes Native people are stereotyped
for (alcohol, a period of neglecting his family, and feeling despair and
resentment about his situation), but he learned from them and chose to immerse
himself in being a traditional Native rather than go into political protest
mode.
There are others who have gone that route, and what Petoskey is
doing instead is more subtle and possibly more effective. As a Christian
minister he teaches Christianity in a way that’s compatible with Native
American ways of relating to the Creator, and gives lectures about the Indian
boarding school program to help change people’s attitudes through education
rather than through adversarial methods.
Petoskey illustrates the value of his approach by giving the
example of a psychology test he uses during his lectures about the historical
trauma of the Indian boarding school system and its aftermath: He shows a piece
of paper with a black dot in the center, then asks people what they see. Most
respond with “a black dot,” and Petoskey then asks them “why they didn’t see
all the white paper.”
He explains that people “have a tendency to focus on all that is
wrong rather than all that is good. By encouraging bad feelings, we are
enabling our disconnection from the Source and the Creator’s pronouncement that
‘It is good.’ Feeling bad is the root cause of anxiety, stress, fear, sadness,
suspicion, anger and hatred” (124).
Another thing I appreciated about Petoskey’s book was he doesn’t
talk about casinos, or devote time to overtly dispelling stereotypes. Through
describing his life and spirituality, he demonstrates that not all Indians fit
the negative stereotypes, and that Indian ways are still valuable in today’s
world. He depicts himself and other Native people doing regular jobs, working
hard to support their families in sometimes innovative ways (for a while he fed
his family by hunting, which is probably a lot harder to do now than in the
ancestors’ time), going to church or practicing their spirituality in more
traditional ways, and striving to relate with non-Native people cooperatively
rather than oppositionally.
While injustice and oppression naturally are strong themes in his
book, Petoskey seems more interested in making the Indian’s case by describing
valuable cultural traits he’s learned about Native Americans, particularly his
own tribe. He describes the respect that traditional parents treat their
children with, some of the rules of community etiquette and hospitality, the
value that is placed on the wisdom and experience of Elders, how women are
valued and cherished as life-givers rather than motherhood being seen as less
prestigious than work men do, and not taking or accumulating more resources than
we need.
Petoskey’s book is a beautiful read, especially his poetry. I’ve
never been a fan of Western poetry—European and classical American—because the
frequent themes of alienation, unrequited love, yearning, and tumultuous and
conflicted emotions don’t make satisfying reading for me or stimulate my soul.
Warren Petoskey ranks right up there with N. Scott Momaday in how his poetry
blends the natural with the spiritual, seeing deep, peaceful emotions and being
in nature as ways of feeling close to the Creator.
“Sunset One,” “Sunset Two,” and “Morning Prayer of an Odawa” are
the kinds of meditations I like reading in daily devotional books, and I like
how the latter depicts Creation like a mated pair: Father God, Mother Earth,
rather than one primary force and everything else in a hierarchy below it. This
mated pair view isn’t the same thing as polytheism, and I’m sure it will be
difficult to reconcile with Christianity for some readers. Petoskey addresses
this quandary by stating “Some might say that, as a Christian serving the Lord
Jesus Christ, it should not matter whether I have an ethnic identity or not. I
have tried to accept that, but still cannot” (114).
Another thing I was happy to see is that he is one of the
increasing number of writers—of various backgrounds—writing about is energy,
seeing the universe and everything in it as manifestations of
constantly-changing energy rather than static material forms. “The Source I
originate from is always creating,” Petoskey says. “We all have the ability to
summon the power and energy that comes from the Source—or resist it. When we
summon the Source-Spirit, we come under its influence and dormant forces come
alive. In this relationship, nothing goes wrong” (125).
For people used to linear memoirs, Petoskey’s book will take some
getting used to. His narrative jumps around, discussing his life out of
chronological order, in a way that demonstrates the Native American view of
life as cyclical rather than always progressing in a straight line. If I tried
to focus on chronology when reading it, I would have lost the flow, and missed
the points Petoskey is making.
Dancing My Dream is good practice for
focusing on what’s more important in a memoir than the specific events: the
insights and the lessons.
I strongly recommend Dancing My Dream for anyone
who would like to see some examples of what contemporary Native Americans are
like, and would like the chance to see them defined by positive characteristics
rather than those of victimization. At the same time, it’s also a good source
of information about the ongoing persecution and marginalization that traps so
many Native Americans in victimization, without the more common confrontational
or political approaches that alienate a lot of readers.
There are a few places in Petoskey’s book that do sound overly
idealized about the past (making it sound two-dimensional and perfect), and
almost ethnocentric in one chapter (describing how “no other people” have the
hospitality and community ethic, artistic abilities, and emotional depth the
Odawa do, when there are plenty of tribal cultures around the world that did or
still do). When averaged in with the whole, however, these passages which were
mildly offensive to me as someone born into a society other than the Odawa and
who knows people as good as them aren’t significant enough to make Petoskey or
his work lose any points with me.
_____
Image: “Archetypal Dreams” by Karla Joy
Huber, 2008; Sumi ink, Prismacolor marker, Sharpie marker, metallic silver
Sharpie marker, highlighter marker
