I made notes in church this morning for the testimony they asked me to give- thought I'd organize them here so I wouldn't lose them.
(Oh, and I don't want to forget- Preacher Jeff was talking about putting up a tipi today- he got to help erect one on the reservation. However, they were all calling it a too-poo: a cross between a tipi and a lean-to! Apparently the wind was giving them several problems! I forgot that, so you might be hearing way more in the weeks to come as I remember things I don't want to forget about this trip.)
Let me talk to you for a minute this morning about stereotypes- those pre-conceived notions we have of people before we get to know them. Well, if you would have asked me this time last year if I had any prejudices like that, I'd have said no- I like to think that I am pretty open to everyone regardless of stereotypes that 'others' might have.
Well I think God took the last few months to say ... mmmm.... Janeen, wake up. You do judge people before you get to know them. How many of you have this kids-eye-view of indians- feathers, leather, war paint, bows and arrows... ok, you're smarter than that- you know you're not going to find anyone dressed today like they were 100 years ago. But what about red skin? Dark brown eyes? Long straight black hair? The wide, flat face that we associate with natives? Bet you would expect that. But the tribes are so intermixed now that you find curly hair, light skin, blue eyes... so that stereotype I had of the indian on the hill with the red skin and feather in his hair has to go.
I am in a minority in this town- a Denver native- born and raised here. We're outnumbered here by people moving in from other places. Suddenly I'm wondering if people have stereotypes against me. Oh, I know that my northern friends (and there's another stereotype- shock- I have NORTHERN friends) but ok lets not go there- my northern friends think we're (meaning me and people who grew up here) are too sweet- like our iced tea! We're complacent- content to sit back and let others have their way. I remember a boy who moved into town when I was in high school who looked down his nose and said "do all these COUNTRY kids drive their tractors to school?" Bet he didn't know I could drive a tractor when I was 12, did he?
Well I think you have to live with a people for a little bit to begin to shake those hidden stereotypes (those ones you didn't even know you had!) And I want to show you some ways that I see the Blackfeet as not being any different from us. Even in very dissimilar situations, I see the ways we are very alike.
Growing up in Denver, we didn't take too many vacations. Maybe a week at the beach, a weekend in the mountains, but we didn't go too many places far away. And we usually stayed with our family and didn't meet many people in the places we did go. Being in marching band, I did venture out in the world a little more, going places like California, New York, New Orleans, and Chicago. Still, I was with my group and we were doing "our" thing. I've never experienced anything like this trip to Montana, where we got to know the people, their traditions, their likes and dislikes, and a little insight into the lives they live.
We got a pretty good look at their life- driving 30 minutes to the nearest gas station and grocery store, paying $10 a truck to go to the dump, Beautiful summer weather but harsh winters with only 6 hours of daylight, beautiful pastures but soil so rocky there is no way to garden or grow much, and trying to keep alive the heritage and traditions that once made them a proud people. We found a people stricken with poverty, alcoholism, illiteracy, and hopelessness. But we also found a people who were accepting, willing and eager to teach us what they could of their heritage, and proud of their history and desperate to keep it alive.
I see some similarities between Denver and Heart Butte.
We had three community pools in Denver when I was little. You could pretty much count on finding your friends at one or the other of them just about any day of the week. The Blackfeet have a swimming hole (pond- but they wanted you to call it a lake) where the natives gathered to swim and socialize.
Anyone who grew up here will remember going to Mr. Punk's Texaco- it is a tire store now right before you get to Food Lion at the corner of 16 and 150. But you could go in there any day of the week and get a Sun Drop and hear the gossip of the town. Going into the trading post in Heart Butte game me that same feel- get an ice cream or a drink and catch up on what was going on in town.
I have been taught to be proud of my Denver roots. My grandmother was a Beatty, and she was proud to be able to trace her roots to John Beatty, who came here from Scotland in the mid-1700s. She was also very proud to have married a Killian, who could trace his roots back to Andreas Killian who came to America from Germany in the mid 1700s. My uncle still ran the family farm when I was little, and I thought every teenager earned their spending money by bailing hay in the summer! (We didn't have fast food restaurants around here then- or Blockbuster). Just as I was raised to be proud of my heritage, the Blackfeet are raising their children to be proud of theirs. We had Eli Padgett with us a lot of the places we went- he is 16 years old and very knowledgable of his traditions. He was able to give us a lot of insight into his history, and you could tell that he was proud to know so much about his people. (Probably way more than my own 16 year old knows or cares about his family heritage.
I do know one big stereotype that people moving to Denver seem to look at "us" and wonder about- that is campmeeting. Surely those run down eyesores of shacks (which we lovingly call tents) and surely must have either housed slaves or been used to dry tobacco- surely we must tear them down. Well, I hope you will come out and see what campmeeting is all about. It is a continuation of a tradition that dates back to 1794 and the circuit rider ministers who brought the word of God to this new land. The crops were in, the fields were resting, and the people around this area came together for two weeks to praise and worship God and to fellowship with each other. We still use campmeeting each year as a time to catch up with old friends, make new ones, and worship under the arbor. I can remember outhouses as being the only bathrooms we had at the campground when I was a little girl (I think they took them out when I was about 16 years old) and what did we do in Montana? We built an outhouse at one of their ceremonial grounds. They still come together each summer for the Sun Dance the way we still come together each year for campmeeting. If you were living here in Denver 200 years ago, you might have a circuit rider minister who came through once every 6 - 8 weeks or so to preach. (You know they were paid $100 a year?) Sounds a little like Jodie and Sue Ellen (the preacher and his wife) who spend their entire Sunday driving between three churches to being the word of God to the people.
I wonder where the Blackfeet will be 200 years from now? Will they still have an idea of their heritage or will it be lost to time? I don't know the answer for sure, but I do know that you can look at campmeeting and see that this tradition has survived for over 200 years thanks to those early faithful people who came here to preach the word of God. Hopefully if we continue to travel to Montana to be ambassadors then the people there will build on the traditions, much as we have here, and will be a thriving Christian people.
So drop your stereotypes of campmeeting and set on out to enjoy these next two weeks. I'm in tent 202 if you need a place to rest. And drop your stereotypes of the indian nation and get to know them- come with us next year and meet these wonderful people for yourself.
No comments:
Post a Comment