The Wild Indian Child By KiiskeeN'tum (She Who Remembers) Turtle Island Centre Family Services Manitoba, Canada

Thought you might enjoy this story..

I'm old enough to remember watching Howdy Doody on a *round* TV ...

Okay folks.. I just have to tell this story.. about a wild little Indian girl..who'd never seen television or even electricity.

The mean and nasty lady from the Children's Aid Society came and took her away from her parents and her Grandmother whom she loved very much. Her parents she loved, but didn't like much at all. They drank and got mean and locked her in closets while they went out drinking. Her Grandmother would sneak in and let her out of the closet until just before the parents came home.

Well, this mean lady, didn't think locking children in closets for week end drinking parties was good parenting. Imagine that! So she came in this rattly old car, picked up the little girl and took her to this strange house. IT was like majick! Turn this funny looking switch and it got bright as day even at night. The little girl was frightened, especially after they cut off her long hair and washed it with kerosene oil, because 'everybody knew that those awful Indians all had head lice' The little girl was frightened cuz where she grew up, hair was only cut when someone died. She wondered who had died and why they wouldn't tell her.

This family had really strange ways and the little girl tried hard to learn them. But they all spoke only English and her English was not so good. Her family spoke Cree at home. They were really Mohawk, but th government had outlawed their language. Cree was a trade language and used to trade between tribes, and because that made money for the Indian agent and other 'round eyes', speaking Cree was tolerated.

Well, in the evening, the family sat around this weird box. It had small people it it. And small horses, and well, small.. everything. They laughed and laughed. People did strange things. The family didn't talk to one another, and hushed the little girl every time she asked a question. They called this box "Television".

Well, this little girl had grown up on stories of the Little People,.. small mischievious spirits that lived in the twilight moments between dusk and dawn. They played games on people, liked sweets and candies, and went after bad people who hurt children. She had been taught NEVER to lock up the Little People of bad things would happen to the adults. Even tho these people were strange, had weird ways and didn't always treat her well, the little girl liked them and wanted them to be safe.

So one night after the adults had gone to bed, the little girl crept quietly down the stairs to the 'television parlour'. She made sure that all the adults were sleeping. Sneaking quietly was one thing she did very well. So well, in fact that rarely a day went by that she hadn't started one or another of the adults by suddenly appearing where they didn't expect her to be. Secretly, she enjoyed scaring them, just a little.

She went to the box, and began to take it apart. First she opened the back pannel. Then she stepped back, waiting for the hoard of people and animals she thought were trapped there. Nothing came out. Next she pried a side panel off. This required getting a butter knife from the kitchen. But after a while, the panel too was on the floor. Still no Little People or animals insight. What a Mystery! Where were they?

She kept going. Taking funny looking tubes out and laying them down. She even looked in the tubes to see if maybe somehow they were locked up in there. No Little People and no animals. After some time, she had the entire box empty. Not a single Little Person anywhere. Well, maybe, she thought, she needed to wait till that moment between dusk and dawn to see them. But, tired as she was she soon fell asleep, amidst the tubes and other parts of the little box.

The next thing she knew, the adults were standing over her. And boy, they were mad as hornets! Buzzing and shouting and making all manner of strange noises. They hustled her back to her room and told her not to move. The morning came and went. The little girl was hungry. No one came to feed her.

Sometime about lunch time, the father took her to her school. He was silent and didn't say a word as he drove her to the big school a mile away. She spent the day confused, tired and frightened.

When she returned home, she saw several 'glad suitcases' piled on the door step. The nasty lady from the Children's Aid Society was sitting in her car waiting. She knew, without checking that any new clothes would be gone, that her private things would be missing. Old discarded clothes would be in the garbage bag. She was off to a new 'foster home'.

Now, years later, she understands that she destroyed a prized and rare possession, a television. She is also very glad that electricity was still a new concept and that before going to bed at night ALL things electrical were unplugged. Other wise she wouldn't be sitting here at this computer, typing out this story.

My oldest birth daughter loved this story very much. It was one of her favorite bedtime stories. She loved it so much that she had earrings made of tiny transistors from an old television set as a special keep sake for me, her mom.

Parts of this story are now humorous. Parts are sad. But they are part of the clash of cultures that often occurs. When we adopt an older child from another country, sometimes we forget that things we take for granted are new and maybe frightening for our children. We need to remember to be patient, careful and watchful as they adjust to the 'wonders' of this modern age.

respectfully
Deedee
also known as KiiskeeN'tum-She Who Remembers.

KiiskeeN’tum – She Who Remembers