Pocahontas and Me

"I'm a Disney princess!"

I don't know what possessed me to say I was a Disney princess. I am over forty years old, and I was running an activity night for little girls under the age of 12. Even though I felt a little weird about what I said, it had the appropriate effect on the little girls. They shrieked with laughter.

"You are NOT!" one shouted.

"Which one?" a group to my right chorused.

"Okay," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "I am not a Disney princess exactly, but I am descended from a Disney princess. Sooo... I am the great-great (21 greats to be exact) great-granddaughter of a Disney Princess. Guess which one."

They couldn't get it. As I said, they are all under 12 years old. Their knowledge of Disney princesses that were crowned before they were born has everything to do with what films their mothers have selected for them and what remakes have come out recently. I let them stew over it for a few minutes before I pulled the plug on their wondering. "What Disney princesses were real people and do not come from fairy tales?"

They couldn't think of any. They're under 12.

"Pocahontas," I told them.

I was instantly a little more popular with them than I had been before. Do not get the wrong idea. I'm not begging them to love me, but they do. I don't just get the regular girls to come to the events I throw. They bring a lot of little girls I've never seen before. I am fun. And I actually do look a little like a princess.

But I do not look like Pocahontas. For one thing, I'm white. Pocahontas was married to John Rolfe in James Town and taken to England. They had one child together before she died, and that child married an English person. As I said, I am 21 generations away from Pocahontas. I'm pretty white looking since the vast majority of my blood is either from the British Isles or Scandanavia. But I am a direct descendant, which also means that I am descended from Pocahontas's father, Powantan. He gifted King James II a mantle that is still on display at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford. That's being part of history.

Now... I have always known that I was a descendant of Pocahontas. My family is obsessed with family history. Pocahontas and her father are not the only historical figures Disney has made into cartoon characters that I am descended from (more on that at the end).

I had another activity coming up at the church with the little girls. We were doing a karaoke night, and I knew I should have something ready to sing for them. I sing, so that wasn't a problem, but what I sing is. I like tragic opera. I like loud love songs about how love is super painful and will undoubtedly result in the death of us all. I needed a new song.

After giving it some thought, I decided I should sing, 'Colors of the Wind' from the Disney movie for Pocahontas. It was a great idea, except it would result in certain... challenges. For starters, it was great because it would definitely be on karaoke. It was great because it was super PG for the little ones. It was a bad idea because I had never been able to listen to that song without bursting into tears... like tears streaming down my face like a malfunctioning sprinkler. I can't explain it. I'm so moved, so suddenly saddened, and so completely unable to control my emotions. If I was going to sing 'Colors of the Wind', I was going to need to grow up... HARD.

I started by memorizing the words. Then, I sang it like a blubbering weirdo while I peeled the potatoes for dinner. Then, I sang it for my kids with my eyes closed (that helps). Then, I sang it in the shower, but I was still crying.

Finally, I was able to understand that the reason I get all choked up is because Pocahontas' spirit is near when I sing a song about her. Even though she didn't write that song, she likes it. She likes the words, the message, and the beauty of the world around us. The movie Disney made about her didn't have much to do with her life really, but she likes that they tried to portray her as beautiful, brave, and compassionate. And as her little granddaughter, she wants that for me, too. And just like that, I could do it. I could sing without crying or even feeling like I was going to cry.

The karaoke night came, and after my gorgeous epiphone, I didn't get a turn to sing. The other leader who was bringing the karaoke equipment was late, so my turn (and her turn) were both forfeited so that all the little girls could have their turns. However, my daughter got to sing. Pocahontas and I sat together and rejoiced. It was a lovely evening.

As for the other historical figure Disney turned into a cartoon that I'm descended from, it's Prince John in Robin Hood. Honestly, their portrayal of him kills me. The whole thing about him crying, sucking his thumb, and calling for his mommy is such a riot I can hardly keep my side seams together. Prince John's mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, was one of the scariest mothers in history. If you study her, you'll get my drift quickly (obviously, I'm also descended from her). I'm not sure if Prince John calling for his mommy was a brilliant idea. She was probably the one who shaved his mane for being a weenie.