grrrr

The Large and Growly Bear

Once there was a large and growly bear.  One spring morning he woke up with nothing to do.  “I know!” said the large and growly bear.  “I will find someone to frighten! That is just what a large and growly bear needs.  So the large and growly bear went growling and prowling and scowling, looking for someone to frighten.  And what did he see?i

He saw that all the animals in the forest were too busy doing this or that, or going here or there to be distracted by his large “GRRRR!”   He grew flustered, appalled by his own ineffectiveness.  He finally decided to try to scare some fish because they seemed like easy targets, but when he reached the riverbank all he saw was A VERY LARGE AND GROWLY BEAR.

Suddenly he felt very small.  He didn’t feel growly, but he did feel like hurrying.  “Hurry!” he cried.  “Hurry away from the large and growly bear!”

Going White

Introduction:  I am a quarter-blood Native American of the Yurok Tribe.  I am not fully accepted as white, and I am not fully accepted as Yurok Indian, except by other Yurok Indians.  Blah blah blah . . . .

When I started college my white friends from high school accused me of “going native” because I started hanging out with Indians and other people of color.  Most of my friends in high school were white because there were mostly white people at my high school.  They thought I was just like them, except darker in the summer, that I possess a quarter special Indian powers, and have a predisposition to alcoholism (all true).  When I started college I was happy to finally have friends who didn’t think that being white meant being normal.    I pursued being more Indian, day and night.  It got me laid, gave me permission to be a contentious jerk in class, and hooked me into numerous opportunities to explore and meet people across Indian Country.  However, I did not receive the boundless financial benefits “just for being Indian” as predicted by my underprivileged white friends.  I confess I did earn a minority tuition scholarship which I blew on a BA in English Lit because I was so inspired by the Native American Renaissance writers.  I also have fishing rights that were regained as a result of the Fish Wars in the seventies (there were actual guns and riot gear), and in 2008 I was cut a 15 thousand dollar share of a twenty year old settlement over timber, which I used to take time off from work to pursue fishing and being more Indian. 

All told, the benefits to being Indian have not added up to much.  I often fantasize about what my life would have been like if I had just stuck to being White – I know I could have pulled it off, as so many white people have informed me with a self satisfied smirk that I could pass for Italian.  Maybe I would have pursued a less romantic major, or gone on to earn a graduate degree instead of being swept up by the social change movement.    Regardless of my past, I have decided recently that it’s not too late to change.