May 5, 2026
As a kid, I was completely obsessed with Indians, and not to be offensive, not the 7-Eleven kind. I know they are not “a thing”, but I was completely fascinated with all things related to our indigenous American people. I read everything I could get my hands on, the old west classics, pioneer day stories, and though I know most were just stories, I was fascinated.
Our library had native American artifacts on display in the basement when I was a kid and I can remember being so in awe of those items used by the “real” deal Indians. The beaded moccasins were my favorite by far, and one summer I used money I earned by working in the melon fields, to buy my first pair of leather soled moccasins. I wore them till I couldn’t fit in them anymore.
As a younger kid, my parents had taken me and my sisters to Colorado on vacation, somewhere near Pikes Peak I think, but not certain. We were able to attend a ceremonial dance put on in a park there, featuring Indians in full headdress and authentic clothing to the best of my young mind. At one point in the dance, I was chosen to be given an eagle feather which was a prized possession for many years. At least till I wore it in a black braided wig for Halloween and lost it, as only a kid being careless can do.
That little shy blonde girl never forgot the thrill of attending the dance, let alone receiving that eagle feather that long ago summer. I may have been around six. That and feeding chipmunks for the first time, which was cool. I always wanted to have black hair to braid too, but that was never in the cards. Somewhere in my ancestorial roots, my great grandmother had told me we had shared blood with a tribe I can’t remember, and looking back at my grandmother’s pictures, I could believe it.
Yes, this is a much simplified version of a culture I admired, and yes I recognize as a culture they were wronged in ways no one deserves, but these are my memories and in ways, a small tribute to a noble people.
Leave a Reply