Reconnecting The Circle
By Diana Onco (Dine/Kiowa/Comanche)
On a quiet afternoon in Oberlin, Ohio, my friend and I walked into a
local ice cream store. We were deciding what we wanted when a man
sitting near us at a table asked us, “Are you two Indians?” and I
replied, “Yeah, we are.” With a thoughtful look on his face, he asked,
“So do you guys still live in teepees?” I said, “I’m Navajo,” and my
friend said, “and I’m Cherokee.” He stared blankly at us and said,
“Ok.” In stunned silence, my friend and I left the store.
That situation made me realize that America has little knowledge of
Native Americans. Most U.S. citizens are familiar with the history of
the Civil War or the Boston Tea Party, but they know little of The Long
Walk or The Battle of Adobe Walls. Society has no knowledge of who
Native people really are. They only know us from the films where we are
labeled “savages.” They think we all lived in teepees and walked around
everyday half naked, or they have the impression that all Natives
Americans do is drink, have no jobs, and receive money from the
government. In fact, most Native Americans do not receive any money
from their tribes. In their eyes, we are nothing more than a character
in a movie, or a mascot on a football helmet.
Reconnecting the circle is crucial to the future of the Native American
because if you look at the young generation of Natives you will see
that they are beginning to forget. They are getting lost in worldly
things such as alcohol and drugs. There are too many headlines about
someone on the reservation who had a meth lab in their home. Our elders
are getting older and are not able to pass down the traditional ways
because of all the unfortunate distractions. The young ones are
forgetting the importance of learning from our elders and cherishing
our traditions. They live like they have all the time in the world to
learn these things, but in reality time is passing them by.
Growing up I have experienced the joy of being Native American; I have
also known what it feels like to have no sense of identity and just
take up space in the world. As a child, I grew up in a city where there
were few Native Americans. I never had more than three friends who were
Native. A lot were white, black or Mexican. They knew little of Native
Americans. My parents always took me to powwows and I would dance fancy
shawl. I remember having so much fun putting my “war paint” on and
trying my best to keep with the drum. I remember feeling the pain in my
leg muscles from keeping on my toes for so long.
Back at school, the kids would tease my sisters and me, calling us
“Pocahontas” because of our long hair, while yelling and patting their
hands on their lips to imitate what they thought was how Native
Americans acted.
As I got older, I stopped dancing after I grew out of my outfit and
slowly began to forget the things that I valued so much as a child. I
was beginning to blend in with a sea of faces, having no unique
identity.
In the summer of 2003, I stayed with my grandmother in Monument Valley
on the Utah/Arizona border. It was the first time I had been away from
home for such a long period. My grandmother is Dineh (Navajo), and I
always had a tough time understanding her through her thick Navajo
accent. While there, I felt out of place because they lived life very
different from me. They had to go and get their water because they did
not have regular plumbing. My grandmother also kept sheep. I remember
the short walk back from my auntie’s house to my grandmother’s and
seeing my grandmother covered in sheep’s blood from butchering earlier
that afternoon. All I could do was stop and stare while my chin hit the
floor. By the end of my trip, I was proud to have learned a little
Navajo and could understand it a lot more than when I had first arrived.
Spending those three months in Monument Valley really helped me put my
values into perspective. I realized that I am not just like everyone
else. I am Native American, with an alive and rich culture. If we
forget who we are, then we become nothing, shaming our ancestors, who
went through so much so that we could preserve our ways and our
languages. The only way we can see this change is to be a part of it,
and I believe that is why I am here sharing my passion with others.
Thank you for allowing me this privilege.
Diana Onco (Dine/Kiowa/Comanche) is 18 years old and was born and
raised in Norman, Oklahoma. She recently graduated third in her class
from Sequoyah High School and plans to attend Oklahoma State University
in the fall, where she will major in Secondary Education with an
emphasis in Native American history.
Editor’s Note: This essay was selected from a body of essays written by
American Indian high school students on the theme “Why is reconnecting
the circle with Native Americans important today?” The contest was
directed by the nonprofit organization, Reconnecting the Circle, led by
Danielle Gaines. Each of the 10 finalists will receive $2,500 dedicated
to higher education expenses. The 2007 contest will run from Oct. 15 to
November 30. To read other select essays, visit
reconnectingthecircle.com. Details: 650/888-9263.
