For most of my life, I was confused. Not because I was a child or didn't have any life experiences, but because I never looked like any of my family or friends. My mom is white and my dad was African American and Native American, but I never looked more like one or the other. I remember asking my mom one time if I was adopted, because for a while I thought I was only white. As I got older and gained more knowledge and life experiences, it had dawned on me that I was what was considered "biracial" or "mixed". I suddenly felt as if I didn't fit in anywhere. My dad would try his best to give me experiences on our culture and insights to our past, but I never could grasp it because my mom lived as a white woman. This confusion followed me through school and friendships and even job applications. When the question would ask "What is your race/ethnicity?" I would stare at the boxes and question which one I should even check. Which one seemingly trumped the other? I was white-passing, but that was only in the winter and when I would straighten my hair. On the other hand, in the summer when my curls were loose and my skin was darker, people wouldn't question "what" I am. Another question I got a lot. "What are you?" as if I was some unknown species to them. I would simply reply the question as poised as i could because then i would be seen as overreacting. My father got three animal tattoos when i was around 14. He said that our family's tribe (forgive me for not remembering) would design personal totems for each individual as to what resonated with them and what the animals stood for in the culture. He had a beetle, an owl and a bear. The bear made me laugh because that was the one thing I distinctly remember him being afraid of when I was a kid was bears. However, he told me that it represented a dual meaning for him, yes he was afraid of them, but they represented courage and good health and he believed expanding on that fear would guide him in life. I learned from my father all I could. Our origins and beliefs. Our family supposedly originated from Oklahoma and were a mix of slaves and shut out indigenous people which i found to be fascinating. i don't sit and dwell on what box to check or where I fit in anymore. I also don't allow it to hinder my experiences in life or my success. I let it represent who I am and where I came from and how I came to be as a woman of color.
Roots of Heritage
The barriers of majestic hemlock trees shadow my trail as I guide myself up the incredible halls of the rocky formation of Hocking Hills. This fern-covered mature forest opens my eyes to a whole new world of diversity. The smell of sweet pine mixed with lemon and orange peel fills my senses; I'm glorified by my surroundings. As I'm bathed in the forest air, I begin to walk closer to my Native American heritage. Like the roots of trees, I'm connected from the ground up with nature. I pride myself in my bronze, suntanned skin while I walk around in the abyss of nature. My grandmother engaged me with my Indian culture before I could even walk. The soft, lightweight deer skin hide covers my small frame. My long braided hair, embedded with strings of leather and feathers swings back and forth as I dance around a powwow Indian ancestral circle. Luanie, our bird clan mother, led in the circle which brings the meaning of closeness to our community and culture. I became diverse with dancing, singing, and honoring the traditions of my Shawnee ancestors.
I was fortunate enough to be included in my ancestors' culture by my grandmother. Both sides of my family come from a long line of Shawnee and Delaware North Native Americans. The word Ohio is taken from the Iroquois word ‘ohiyo’, which means “the great river.” Located in southern Ohio, I became inclusive to learning my ancestor's native traditions. My Grandmother -on my mother's side- attended powwow and green corn dances to celebrate our ancestors and planting season. I was immersed in different foods in my day-to-day life: cornbread, soups, and stews. During hunting season, my grandmother's good friend Chief Running Foot brought us heaps of small game and deer meat for us to feast on. When I was five, I finally got my native name. As a child, I was known as the local songbird. I sang my heart out with the beat of water drums and the beats of nature. From this, I was given the name Singing Dove. In my childhood years, I was homeschooled till the 2nd grade. Through this experience, I learned about my native heritage with hands-on learning. As we strolled past Indian mounds and Native American history landmarks, I became diversified by learning who I truly was in my family's history.
One of the spots we visited was the Serpent Mounds in Peeples, Ohio. These prehistoric mounds, along with Hopewell, were ancient burial sites. Underneath the mounds are fragments of pottery, food, jewelry, and natural materials like flint and stone. Most ancient Indian mounds, such as the Serpent Mound, represent the shapes of animals -I find this very fascinating- to honor their representative animal.
Connecting our soul to our family's history is an honor. Passing down traditions and cultural diversity for future generations to experience. With the childhood I had, I got to experience the wonders of my native ancestors. Through this experience, I have become a global citizen and a more diverse person in our American society. I will continue to celebrate our native traditions and make a career path toward reviving nature's habitat. By learning about other national tribes and how every tribe's traditions and rituals are different, I will be able to spread a national educational outlook on my family's history. With great pride, I am honored to have the blood of the Shawnee and Delaware Native American tribes of southern Ohio.
