Subject: KOLANews - "Parts is parts, people are what counts" Date: Sun, 11 Nov 2001 16:12:19 From: KOLA To: (Recipient list suppressed) [from JH. Thanks!] http://www.billingsgazette.com/ Saturday, November 10, 2001 Potter Column: "Parts is parts, people are what counts" By JOHN POTTER, Well, Whatever "I’m a “mudblood,” and proud of it. What’s a “mudblood,” you ask, your eyebrows raised high on your furry brow? The term comes from the insanely popular Harry Potter books, and it’s a term that really struck a nerve in me as I read them. The word comes up in regard to the matter of “purebloods” vs. “mudbloods” in the wizarding world of Harry. I’ll explain. ‘Muggle’ prejudice See, in Harry Potter’s world, there are “muggles” – ordinary folk with no wizard blood, and then there are “purebloods” – those whose mothers and fathers both had “magic” in their blood. “Mudbloods” is the pejorative term used by racist wizards to describe those born of mixed parentage, of one “pureblood” parent and one “muggle” parent, for instance. In the Indian world though, us “mudbloods” are called “halfbreeds.” Sometimes it’s just plain “breeds.” Sometimes it’s something even worse that, hey, we just can’t print here folks. In general, my experience has been that mixed bloods like myself are basically held in the same lofty regard as, say, slugs. Or, worse, what slugs leave behind them. When I was growing up, it was widely accepted that there was no lower life form than a breed. Whites would look down their perfectly sculpted noses at me with utter contempt. “Purebloods,” or Indians who considered themselves “fullbloods,” would look down their beaks at me with pure loathing – to them I embodied the downfall of Indian culture and tradition. Heck, I was even responsible for it. True Indianness Some of these “keepers of true Indianness” would then wander off and make me disappear with a bottle of hooch. In short, I was just too dark for the white folks, and not dark enough for the Indian folks. In time, I could understand why the whites might’ve felt as they did toward me, being burdened with the European concept of “nobility” – and noble blood, being far superior than that of commoners, must and should be kept pure and undiluted at all costs. The traditional Indian way, though, was more one of acceptance, not separation. “Nobility,” seen more in terms of honor and character, was something in the HEART of a person, not in the bloodline – which I thought ’ twas a far nobler concept. This is one of the many things about Indians that I thought made them special. Unbelievable irony It is an irony of unbelievable proportions that some native people have now come to prejudice themselves toward those of us with varying quantities of Indian blood. Indians have adopted some of the worst qualities of our conquerors when we choose to label, categorize, separate and treat poorly those among us whom we don’t think measure up to our inflated sense of thoroughbred superiority. It never was the Indian way to segregate based on differences. The Indian way was one of inclusion, moreover, praise, of those who were different. Sadly, it’s been my experience that many of us have forgotten this. I have witnessed, and in fact experienced, as much racism from native people as I have from whites. When you get right down to it, we’re ALL “mudbloods,” and humanity, collectively speaking, is getting “muddier” all the time. Whether this is something to bemoan or to celebrate is up to you. Personally, I think it’s just the way it is, and that’s all. No biggie. And, personally, I don’t think it wise or appropriate to separate, label, categorize and pass judgment on the various “parts” of a person. Part maple, part slug Here’s proof: I myself am part Ojibway and part French, part Scottish and part cottonwood. I’m part maple and birch, part walleye and deer and rabbit and rotten leaves. I am part saber-toothed tiger, part mastodon, part stone, star and yes – slug. (I heard you snickering at the “part rabbit” part). I’m also partial to chocolate, wild rice and exquisitely prepared buffalo roast. WHO CARES!? The point is that none of this makes me special. None of these “parts” make me inferior, or superior, to anyone else – it just makes . . . me. Basically, yes, I still think Indians ARE special people. But I think whites are special too, and blacks, and Asians, and Hispanics – everyone is, I think, because we’re HERE. Because the Creator has chosen to breathe light, life, spark and song into our hearts. We all have worth above and beyond how we, or others, choose to label ourselves. Harry Potter knows this. Some of his best friends are “mudbloods,” and they all work together to solve problems and save lives . . . a good lesson for kids, and for the kid in all of us. It’s what’s in our hearts, not the composition of the blood it pumps, that should define who we are." Copyright © 2001, The Billings Gazette I put this here because in 1932, a little 10 year old girl was left by her father. He expected his daughter to stay with his mother while he traveled out of state for work. The time was the depression. How the plans fell apart is a story of it's own. For my gramma, his decision was life altering. The story as she told me, was that the local minister refused to allow her to stay because she was "part" indian. In his christianity, he put this child out to fend for herself and she survived. Where was her grandmother? What prevented her from caring for her own flesh and blood? No one knows today. This site is a tribute to Gramma's strength and to my love for her. It is also for my Tarebear. Taryn, You're gonna make it baby. Love, moma My geneology