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I am My Ancestor's Dream
To My Indigenous Ancestors the survivors of Genocide, this story is for you. Not long ago, I was a "Colonized" Indigenous Woman. I was dying my hair blonde, wearing and acting against my own culture. Not intentionally of course, just going along with societal norms and trends. Ignoring the calling of my own culture and identity. During that process of dying my hair blonde, and washing away everything that made me different. Why? In attempts to fit in with "Society's Standards". The Barbie look, blonde hair, blue eyes and dimples. Oh how naive I was.
By Avril Doucette4 years ago in Families
Our culture, our way of life
It may seem cliche universally, but it is so vital for the youth to learn our way of life. For the Yupiaq Eskimo people of the Southwest region of Alaska, it is very important for us to teach our younger generation on how to survive using the very resources we have on our land, lakes, rivers and ocean. These things we have learned from generatation to generation and will not die off as long as we have our parents, granparents, and in our culture, our uncles and aunts who are very vital in passing down the knowledge and skills to hunt, fish and gather from our land.
By Ina Pavila4 years ago in Families
My Family, My Teachers
To all the teachers in my family, and all the things you taught me - If you're very, very lucky, family are just friends you didn't get to pick yourself - they were already in place when you arrived, like the furniture and 70's shag carpeting. Unlike the carpeting, the teaching has stuck around for far longer, with far-reaching consequences that even my parents would never have guessed at.
By Meredith Harmon4 years ago in Families
You've Got it Forever Now
More than a quarter of a century after making your acquaintance, I still find myself in awe of you. I can tell you the day – June 19th, 1995 – as well as the hour. It was one o’clock in the afternoon when I arrived for the first time at the Spruces, the 19th century hotel then being used as the residence for the cast and crew of the Weathervane Theatre. Even before I was parked, I realized that the building was many decades past its heyday, in an era when wealthier Bostonians and New Yorkers could board a train north during the summer months to holiday in the cooler air of New Hampshire’s White Mountains. I immediately wondered what I had gotten myself into.
By D.P. Martin4 years ago in Families
Mom had a Dream
It all happened in 1992. I was born. second child to my parents. crazy as it sounds, I was, am the naughtiest kid. I was and still I am the toughest to handle. I am quick as a wind but I am the one who has most troubled parents, grandparents as well. Always running around, making every inch of mistakes, the tough kid at times for my parents , grandmother to look after. let me tell you how at each face we have tried to achieve our dreams.
By Harsha Upadhyaya4 years ago in Families
You Can Live Without Love
Back and forth I paced our small bathroom, biting my nails while the water ran hot. Anticipation goosed my skin; blood sped through my veins. The tub filled. It could have been Christmas morning, my excitement was breathtaking. I quickly got undressed and jumped into the bathtub. The hot water embraced me, completely. I imagined drowning. My pores opened, singing praises, tingling. Eventually, no other embrace was required to be graced and blessed. It was Love. It was Saturday night - bath night! My greatest nightly adventure. Once in the water, I heard the murmur, "I love you."
By Allan Ebert4 years ago in Families
