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An Indian Teacher Among Indians · Native American Stories by Zitkala-Sa

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  Speaker 1: Section three of American Indian Stories. This is a LibriVox recording.
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  Speaker 1: All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
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  Speaker 1: information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Read
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  Speaker 1: by Christine Bowden. American Indian Stories by Zikalissa, an Indian
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  Speaker 1: teacher among Indians. My first day, though in illness, left
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  Speaker 1: me unable to continue my college course. My pride kept
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  Speaker 1: me from returning to my mother. Had she known of
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  Speaker 1: my worn condition, she would have said the white man's
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  Speaker 1: papers were not worth the freedom and health I had
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  Speaker 1: lost by them. Such a rebuke from my mother would
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  Speaker 1: have been unbearable, and, as I felt then, it would
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  Speaker 1: be far too true to be comfortable. Since the winter
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  Speaker 1: when I had my first dreams of about red apples,
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  Speaker 1: I had been traveling slowly toward the morning horizon. There
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  Speaker 1: had been no doubt about the direction in which I
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  Speaker 1: wished to go to spend my energies in a work
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  Speaker 1: for the Indian race. Thus I had written my mother
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  Speaker 1: briefly saying my plan for the year was to teach
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  Speaker 1: in an Eastern Indian school. Sending this message to her
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  Speaker 1: in the west, I started at once eastward. Thus I
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  Speaker 1: found myself tired and hot in a black veiling of
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  Speaker 1: car smoke, as I stood wearily on a street corner
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  Speaker 1: of an old fashioned town, waiting for a car. In
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  Speaker 1: a few moments more, I should be on the school grounds,
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  Speaker 1: where a new work was ready for my inexperienced hands.
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  Speaker 1: Upon entering the school campus, I was surprised that the
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  Speaker 1: thickly clustered buildings which made it a quaint little village,
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  Speaker 1: much more interesting than the town itself. The large trees
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  Speaker 1: among the houses gave the place a cool, refreshing shade,
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  Speaker 1: and the grass a deeper Within this large court of
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  Speaker 1: grass and trees stood a low green pump. The queer
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  Speaker 1: box like case had a revolving handle on its side,
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  Speaker 1: which clanked and creaked constantly. I made myself known and
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  Speaker 1: was shown to my room, a small carpeted room with
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  Speaker 1: ghastly walls and a ceiling. The two windows, both on
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  Speaker 1: the same side, were curtained with heavy muslin yellowed with age.
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  Speaker 1: A clean white bed was in one corner of the room,
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  Speaker 1: and opposite it was a square pine table covered with
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  Speaker 1: a black woolen blanket. Without removing my hat from my head,
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  Speaker 1: I seated myself in one of the two stiff backed
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  Speaker 1: chairs that were placed beside the table for several heart throbs.
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  Speaker 1: I sat still, looking from ceiling the floor, from wall
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  Speaker 1: to wall, trying hard to imagine years of contentment there.
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  Speaker 1: Even while I was wondering if my exhausted strength would
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  Speaker 1: sustain me through this undertaking, I heard a heavy tread
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  Speaker 1: stop at my door. Opening it, I met the imposing
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  Speaker 1: figure of a stately, gray haired man with a light
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  Speaker 1: straw hat in one hand and the right hand extended
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  Speaker 1: for greeting. He smiled kindly upon me. For some reason,
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  Speaker 1: I was awed by his wondrous height and his strong,
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  Speaker 1: square shoulders, which I felt where a finger's length above
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  Speaker 1: my head. I was always slight, and my serious illness
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  Speaker 1: in the early spring had made me look rather frail
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  Speaker 1: and languid. His quick eye measured my height and breadth.
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  Speaker 1: Then he looked into my face. I imagined that a
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  Speaker 1: visible shadow flitted across his countenance. As he let my
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  Speaker 1: hand fall. I knew he was no other than my employer. Ahh,
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  Speaker 1: so you are the little Indian girl who created the
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  Speaker 1: excitement among the college orators, he said, more to himself
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  Speaker 1: than me, I thought. I heard a subtle note of
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  Speaker 1: disappointment in his voice. Looking in from where he stood
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  Speaker 1: with one sweeping glance, he asked if I lacked anything
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  Speaker 1: for my room. As he turned to go, I listened
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  Speaker 1: to a step until it grew faint and was lost
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  Speaker 1: in the distance. I was aware that my caar smoked
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  Speaker 1: appearance had not concealed the lines of pain on my face.
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  Speaker 1: For a short moment, my spirit laughed at my ill fortune,
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  Speaker 1: and I entertained the idea of exerting myself to make
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  Speaker 1: an improvement. But as I tossed my hat off, a
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  Speaker 1: leaden weakness came over me, and I felt as if
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  Speaker 1: years of weariness lay like water soaked logs upon me.
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  Speaker 1: I threw myself upon the bed, and, closing my eyes,
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  Speaker 1: forgot my good intention. A trip westward one sultry month,
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  Speaker 1: I sat at a desk heaped up with work. Now,
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  Speaker 1: as I recall it, I wonder how I could have
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  Speaker 1: dared to disregard nature's warning with such recklessness. Fortunately, my
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  Speaker 1: inheritance of a marvelous endurance enabled me to bend with
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  Speaker 1: without breaking. Though I had gone to and fro from
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  Speaker 1: my room to the office in an unhappy silence, I
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  Speaker 1: was watched by those around me. On an early morning,
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  Speaker 1: I was summoned to the superintendent's office for a half hour.
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  Speaker 1: I listened to his words, and when I returned to
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  Speaker 1: my room, I remembered one sentence above the rest. It
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  Speaker 1: was this, I'm going to turn you loose to pasture.
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  Speaker 1: He was sending me west to gather Indian pupils for
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  Speaker 1: the school, and this was his way of expressing it.
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  Speaker 1: I needed nourishment, but the midsummer's travel across the continent
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  Speaker 1: to search the hot prairies for over confident parents who
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  Speaker 1: would entrust their children to strangers was a lean pasturage. However,
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  Speaker 1: I dwelt on the hope of seeing my mother. I
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  Speaker 1: tried to reason that a change was a rest. Within
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  Speaker 1: a couple of days, I started toward my mother's home.
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  Speaker 1: The intense heat and the sticky car smoke that followed
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  Speaker 1: my homeward trail did not noticeably restore my vitality. Hour
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  Speaker 1: after hour, I gazed upon the country which was receding
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  Speaker 1: rapidly from me. I noticed the gradual expansion of the
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  Speaker 1: horizon as we emerged out of the forests into the plains,
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  Speaker 1: the great high buildings whose towers overlooked the dense woodlands,
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  Speaker 1: and whose gigantic clusters formed large cities, diminished together with
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  Speaker 1: the groves, until only little log cabins lay snugly in
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  Speaker 1: the bosom of the vast prairie. The cloud shadows, which
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  Speaker 1: drifted about on the waving yellow of long dried grasses,
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  Speaker 1: thrilled me like the meeting of old friends at a
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  Speaker 1: small station consisting of a single frame house with a
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  Speaker 1: rickety boardwalk around it. I alighted from the iron horse,
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  Speaker 1: just thirty miles from my mother and my brother Dawi.
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  Speaker 1: A strong hot wind seemed determined to blow my hat
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  Speaker 1: off and return me to olden days when I roamed
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  Speaker 1: bareheaded over the hills. After the puffing engine of my
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  Speaker 1: train was gone, I stood on the platform in deep solitude.
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  Speaker 1: In the distance, I saw the gently rolling land leap
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  Speaker 1: up into bare hills. At their bases. A broad gray
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  Speaker 1: road was winding itself round about them, until it came
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  Speaker 1: by the station. Among these hills. I rode in a
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  Speaker 1: light conveyance with a trusty driver whose unkempt flaxen hair
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  Speaker 1: hung shaggy about his ears, and his leathern neck of
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  Speaker 1: reddish tan from accident or decay. He had lost one
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  Speaker 1: of his long front teeth. Though I call him a
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  Speaker 1: pale face, his cheeks were of a brick red. His
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  Speaker 1: moist blue eyes blurred and bloodshot, twitched involuntarily for a
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  Speaker 1: long time. He had driven through the grass and snow
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  Speaker 1: from this solitary station to the Indian village. His weather
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  Speaker 1: stained clothes fitted badly his warped shoulders. He was stooped
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  Speaker 1: in his protruding chin, with its tuft of dry flax,
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  Speaker 1: knotted as monotonously as did the head of his faithful beast.
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  Speaker 1: All the morning, I looked about me, recognizing old familiar
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  Speaker 1: skylines of rugged bluffs and round toptails. By the roadside,
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  Speaker 1: I caught glimpses of various plants whose sweet roots were
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  Speaker 1: delicacies among my people. When I saw the first cone
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  Speaker 1: shaped Wigwam, I could not help uttering an exclamation, which
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  Speaker 1: caused my driver a sudden jump out of his drowsy nodding.
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  Speaker 1: At noon, as we drove through the eastern edge of
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  Speaker 1: the reservation, I grew very impatient and restless. Constantly I
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  Speaker 1: wondered what my mother would say upon seeing her little
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  Speaker 1: daughter grown tall. I had not written her the day
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  Speaker 1: of my arrival, thinking I would surprise her. Crossing a
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  Speaker 1: ravine thicketed with low shrubs and plum bushes, we approached
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  Speaker 1: a large yellow acre of wild sunflowers. Just beyond the
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  Speaker 1: nature's garden, we drew near to my mother's cottage. Close
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  Speaker 1: by the log cabin stood a little canvas covered with
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  Speaker 1: the driver stopped in front of the open door, and
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  Speaker 1: in a long moment, my mother appeared at the threshold.
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  Speaker 1: I had expected her to run out to greet me,
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  Speaker 1: but she stood still, all the while, staring at the
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  Speaker 1: weather beaten man at my side at length. When her
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  Speaker 1: loftiness became unbearable, I called to her, mother, why do
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  Speaker 1: you stop? This seemed to break the evil moment, and
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  Speaker 1: she hastened out to hold my head against her cheek.
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  Speaker 1: My daughter, what madness possessed you to bring home such
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  Speaker 1: a fellow, she asked, pointing at the driver, who was
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  Speaker 1: fumbling in his pockets for a change while he held
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  Speaker 1: the bill I gave him between his jagged teeth. Bring him. Why, no, mother,
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  Speaker 1: he has brought me. He is a driver, I exclaimed.
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  Speaker 1: Upon this revelation, my mother threw her arms about me
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  Speaker 1: and apologized for her mistaken inference. We laughed away the
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  Speaker 1: momentary hurt. Then she built a brisk fire on the
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  Speaker 1: ground in the teepee, and hung a blackened coffee pot
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  Speaker 1: on one of the prongs of a forked pole, which
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  Speaker 1: leaned over the flames. Placing a pan on a heap
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  Speaker 1: of red embers, she baked some unleavened bread. This light
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  Speaker 1: luncheon she brought into the cabin and arranged on a
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  Speaker 1: table covered with a checkered oilcloth. My mother had never
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  Speaker 1: gone to school, and though she meant always to give
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  Speaker 1: up her own customs for such of the white man's
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  Speaker 1: ways as pleased her, she made only compromises. Her two windows,
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  Speaker 1: directly opposite each other, she curtained with a pink flowered print.
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  Speaker 1: The naked logs were unstained and rudely carved with an
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  Speaker 1: axe so as to fit into one another. The sawed
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  Speaker 1: roof was trying to boast of tiny sunflowers, the seeds
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  Speaker 1: of which had probably been planted by the constant wind.
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  Speaker 1: As I leaned my head against the logs, I discovered
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  Speaker 1: the peculiar odor that I could not forget. The rains
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  Speaker 1: had soaked the earth in roof, so that the smell
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  Speaker 1: of damp clay was but the natural breath of such
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  Speaker 1: a dwelling mother. Why is not your house cemented? Do
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  Speaker 1: you have no interest in a more comfortable shelter? I asked,
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  Speaker 1: when the apparent inconveniences of her home seemed to suggest
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  Speaker 1: indifference on her part. You forget, my child, that I
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  Speaker 1: am now old and I do not work with beads
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  Speaker 1: any more. Your brother, Dowi, too has lost his position,
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  Speaker 1: and we are left without means to buy even a
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  Speaker 1: morsel of food, she replied. Dowie was a government clerk
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  Speaker 1: in our reservation when I last heard from him. I
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  Speaker 1: was surprised upon hearing what my mother said concerning his
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  Speaker 1: lack of employment. Seeing the puzzled expression on my face,
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  Speaker 1: she continued, Dowie, oh, has he not told you that
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  Speaker 1: the Great Father at Washington sent a white son to
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  Speaker 1: take your brother's pen from him. Since then, Dowie has
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  Speaker 1: not been able to make use of the education the
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  Speaker 1: Eastern School has given him. I found no words with
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  Speaker 1: which to answer satisfactorily. I found no reason with which
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  Speaker 1: to cool my inflamed feelings. Dowie was a whole day's
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  Speaker 1: journey off on the prairie, and my mother did not
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  Speaker 1: expect him until the next day, we were silent, when
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  Speaker 1: at length I raised my head to hear more clearly
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  Speaker 1: the moaning of the wind in the corner logs. I
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  Speaker 1: noticed the daylight streaming into the dingy room through several
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  Speaker 1: places where the logs fitted unevenly. Turning to my mother,
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  Speaker 1: I urged her to tell me more about Doawi's trouble,
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  Speaker 1: but she only said, well, my daughter, this village has
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  Speaker 1: been these many winters a refuge for white robbers that
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  Speaker 1: Indian cannot complain to the Great Father in Washington without
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  Speaker 1: suffering outrage for it. Here dah Wee tried to secure
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  Speaker 1: justice for our tribe in a small manner, and today
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  Speaker 1: you see the folly of it again. Though she stopped
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  Speaker 1: to hear what I might say, I was silent, My child.
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  Speaker 1: There is only one source of justice, and I have
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  Speaker 1: been praying steadfastly to the Great Spirit to avenge our wrongs,
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  Speaker 1: she said, seeing I did not move my lips. My
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  Speaker 1: shattered energy was unable to hold longer any faith, and
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  Speaker 1: I cried out desperately, Mother, don't pray again. The Great
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  Speaker 1: Spirit does not care if we live or die. Let
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  Speaker 1: us not look for good or justice, then we shall
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  Speaker 1: not be disappointed. Sh my child, do not talk so madly.
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  Speaker 1: There is taku eotan wasaka, to which I pray, she answered,
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  Speaker 1: as she stroked my head again, as she used to
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  Speaker 1: do when I was a smaller child. My mother's curse
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  Speaker 1: upon white settlers. One black night, Mother and I sat
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  Speaker 1: alone in the dim starlight in front of our wigwam.
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  Speaker 1: We were facing the river. As we talked about the
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  Speaker 1: shrinking limits of the village. She told me about the
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  Speaker 1: poverty stricken white settlers who lived in caves dug in
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  Speaker 1: the long ravines of the high hills across the river.
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  Speaker 1: A whole tribe of broad footed white beggars had rushed
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  Speaker 1: hither to make claims on those wild lands. Even as
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  Speaker 1: she was telling this, I spied a small, glimmering light
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  Speaker 1: in the bluffs. That is a white man's lodge, where
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  Speaker 1: you see the burning fire, she said. Then a short
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  Speaker 1: distance from it, only a little lower than the first,
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  Speaker 1: was another light. As I became accustomed to the night,
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  Speaker 1: I saw more and more twinkling lights here and there,
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  Speaker 1: scattered all along the wide black margin of the river.
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  Speaker 1: Still looking toward the distant firelight, my mother continued, my daughter,
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  Speaker 1: beware of the pale face. It was the cruel pale
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  Speaker 1: face who caused the death of your sister and your uncle,
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  Speaker 1: my brave brother. It is this same pale face who
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  Speaker 1: offers in one palm the holy papers, and with the
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  Speaker 1: other gives a holy baptism of firewater. He is the
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  Speaker 1: hypocrite who reads with one eye thou shalt not kill,
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  Speaker 1: and with the other gloats upon the sufferings of the
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  Speaker 1: Indian race. Then, suddenly discovering a new fire in the bluffs,
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  Speaker 1: she exclaimed, well, well, my daughter, there is the light
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  Speaker 1: of another white rascal. She sprang to her feet, and,
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  Speaker 1: standing firm beside her wigwam, she sent a curse upon
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  Speaker 1: those who sat around the hated white man's light. Raising
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  Speaker 1: her right arm forcibly into line with her eye, she
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  Speaker 1: threw her whole night into her doubled fist as she
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  Speaker 1: shot it vehemently at the strangers. Long she held her
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  Speaker 1: outstretched fingers towards the settler's lodge, as if an invisible
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  Speaker 1: power passed from them to the evil at which she aimed. Retrospection,
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  Speaker 1: leaving my mother, I returned to the school in the east.
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  Speaker 1: As months passed over me, I slowly comprehended that the
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  Speaker 1: large army of white teachers in Indian schools had a
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  Speaker 1: larger missionary creed than I had suspected. It was one
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  Speaker 1: which included self preservation quite as much as Indian education.
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  Speaker 1: When I saw an opium eater holding a position as
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  Speaker 1: teacher of Indians, I did not understand what good was
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  Speaker 1: expected until a Christian in power replied that this pumpkin
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  Speaker 1: colored creature had a feeble mother to support an inebriate,
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  Speaker 1: pale face set stupid in a doctor's chair while Indian
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  Speaker 1: patients carried their ailments to untimely graves because his fair
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  Speaker 1: wife was dependent upon him for her daily food. I
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  Speaker 1: find it hard to count that white man a teacher
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  Speaker 1: who tortured an ambitious Indian youth by frequently reminding the
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  Speaker 1: brave changeling that he was nothing but a government pauper.
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  Speaker 1: Though I burned with indignation upon discovering on every side
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  Speaker 1: instances no less shameful than those I have mentioned, there
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  Speaker 1: was no present help. Even the few rare ones who
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  Speaker 1: have worked nobly for my race were powerless to choose
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  Speaker 1: workmen like themselves. To be sure, a man was sent
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  Speaker 1: from the Great Father to inspect Indian schools, but what
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  Speaker 1: he saw was usually the student's sample made for exhibition.
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  Speaker 1: I was nettled by this sly cunning of the workmen
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  Speaker 1: who hook winged the Indian's pale father at Washington. My illness,
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  Speaker 1: which prevented the conclusion of my college course, together with
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  Speaker 1: my mother's stories of the encroaching frontier settlers, left me
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  Speaker 1: in no mood to strain my eyes in searching for
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  Speaker 1: latent good in my white co workers. At this stage
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  Speaker 1: of my own evolution, I was ready to curse men
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  Speaker 1: of small capacity for being the dwarfs their God had
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  Speaker 1: made them. In the process of my education, I had
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  Speaker 1: lost all consciousness of the nature world about me. Thus,
• 18:30
  Speaker 1: when a hidden rage took me to the small, white
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  Speaker 1: walled prison which I then called my room, I unknowingly
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  Speaker 1: turned away from my one salvation. Alone in my room,
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  Speaker 1: I sat like the petrified Indian woman of whom my
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  Speaker 1: mother used to tell me. I wished my heart's burden
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  Speaker 1: would turn me to unfeeling stone. But alive in my tomb,
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  Speaker 1: I was destitute for the white man's papers. I had
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  Speaker 1: given up my faith in the Great Spirit for these
• 18:59
  Speaker 1: same I had forgotten the healing in trees and brooks.
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  Speaker 1: On account of my mother's simple view of life and
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  Speaker 1: my lack of any, I gave her up. Also, I
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  Speaker 1: made no friends among the race of people I loathed.
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  Speaker 1: Like a slender tree, I had been uprooted from my mother,
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  Speaker 1: nature and God. I was shorn of my branches which
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  Speaker 1: had waved in sympathy and love for home and friends.
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  Speaker 1: The natural coat of bark, which had protected my oversensitive nature,
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  Speaker 1: was scraped off to the very quick. Now a cold,
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  Speaker 1: bare pole, I seemed to be planted in a strange earth. Still,
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  Speaker 1: I seemed to hope a day would come when my mute,
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  Speaker 1: aching head reared upward to the sky would flash as
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  Speaker 1: zigzag lightning across the heavens. With this dream event, for
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  Speaker 1: a long pent consciousness, I walked again amid the crowds.
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  Speaker 1: At last, one weary day in the school room, a
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  Speaker 1: new idea presented itself to me. It was a new
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  Speaker 1: way of solving the problem of my inner self. I
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  Speaker 1: liked it. Thus I resigned my position as teacher, and
• 20:08
  Speaker 1: now I am in an eastern city, following the long
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  Speaker 1: course of study I have set for myself. Now, as
• 20:15
  Speaker 1: I look back upon the recent past, I see it
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  Speaker 1: from a distance as a whole. I remember how, from
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  Speaker 1: morning till evening many specimens of civilized peoples visited the
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  Speaker 1: Indian school. The city folks with canes and eyeglasses, the
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  Speaker 1: countrymen with sunburnt cheeks and clumsy feet, forgot their relative
• 20:35
  Speaker 1: social ranks in an ignorant curiosity. Both sorts of these
• 20:40
  Speaker 1: Christian palefaces were alike astounded at seeing the children of
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  Speaker 1: savage warriors so docile and industrious. As answers to their
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  Speaker 1: shallow inquiries, they received the students sample work to look upon.
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  Speaker 1: Examining the neatly figured pages, and gazing upon the Indian
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  Speaker 1: girls and boys bending over their books, the white visitors
• 21:02
  Speaker 1: walked out of the schoolhouse, well satisfied they were educating
• 21:07
  Speaker 1: the children of the Red man. They were paying a
• 21:10
  Speaker 1: liberal fee to the government employees in whose able hands
• 21:15
  Speaker 1: lay the small forest of Indian timber. In this fashion,
• 21:19
  Speaker 1: many have passed idly through the Indian schools during the
• 21:23
  Speaker 1: last decade afterward to boast of their charity to the
• 21:27
  Speaker 1: North American Indian. But few there are who have paused
• 21:32
  Speaker 1: to question whether real life or long lasting death lies
• 21:37
  Speaker 1: beneath this semblance of civilization. End of section three,