To the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I would answer in this fashion, naming not just one but five goals for myself:
“I would like to be an Indian, comedian, architect, teacher, writer.”
Later, the “architect” goal would drop out of this parade after a particularly unpleasant experience with a mechanical drawing class in junior high school, to be replaced by a slightly greater emphasis on “teacher”.
The revised list of career goals then read “Indian, comedian, teacher, writer.”
As becoming a comedian did not seem attainable nor practical, that category too slowly receded . . . at least insofar as the basis for a professional career: too risky to even attempt–although the notion of standing on stage and making people laugh certainly appealed to me as a wonderful kind of job to have and still does!
What could be more wonderful, I thought to myself, than getting paid to make people laugh!
Then I thought of my speech problem revolving around the inability to articulate clearly words with lots of R’s and L’s in them. I shuddered to myself at the possibility of a shameful public embarrassment during what would have been an otherwise dazzling and hilarious performance as a stand-up comic (the same fear plowed under any notion of becoming an actor as well) . . . .
The list began to narrow again with “Indian, teacher, and writer” holding fast and nothing else new on the horizon appearing, either seriously or as a lark. This was my list and I was sticking to it, come hell or high water!
As it turned out, miracle of miracles, I did become a teacher! first in the public schools and later as a professor of American History. Having worked now as an educator for more than thirty years, I feel somewhat comfortable in checking off that career goal off having been pursued and achieved.
Two items of ambition thus remained: “Indian” and writer.”
And here the list remains unchanged to this day, my final answer to the ubiquitous question “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Two choices were practical enough to be realizable (teacher and writer) yet they were forever shadowed by my two secret ambitions, comedian and Indian, never far behind.
As for writing, it is still the love of my life–even though I lack the MBA brains to figure out how to earn an income from such literary endeavors. I hope I’ll make it as a writer one day (who knows?) but, either way, that still leaves my most important dream of all: becoming a Native American.
I suppose the next question might be why would a white boy growing up in a working class neighborhood in Cleveland, Ohio in the 1950’s answer “Indian” in the first place? Or why, as he got older, did he not drop such an answer? Was he only aiming for a quick laugh?
I assure you, nothing of the kind! Humor was the farthest thing from my mind in matters of such great import. And although the answer may produce a smile, a laugh, or even a jeer from others, I have always been in earnest.
(I must add here, parenthetically, that the term “Indian” was still in common use and the term “Native American” not yet fully born, a linguistic change of the late 1960’s while I was attending college at U.C. Berkeley.)
For those cynics who might think I am being silly and not offering this answer seriously, so be it. It’s a free country, especially when it comes to choosing one’s personal values and beliefs. Even among relatives and friends who could see I had a serious purpose, few persons ever bothered to ask me “why?” which is really the one and only question that must be asked.
Why would I want to become an Indian, assuming for the moment that such is even possible?
This is not solely an issue of race, of ethnicity, of skin color as perceived by most people. As a child, I grew up in an American society where the term “race” was very fully ensconced. Everyone heard and used this term regularly and everyone was pretty sure they knew exactly what it meant.
To the vast majority of my fellow countrymen, most assuredly it meant you could always point out that white-skinned people were part of the white race and black-skinned people were part of the black race. If one were a bit educated, one could use the word Caucasian for “white” and “Negro” for “black” and capitalize both words for good measure to raise their scientific standing, as it were.
From a cultural point of view, terms like “ethnic groups” and “ethnicity” were not commonly in use yet outside of select disciplines like anthropology, sociology, and history. These terms began to gain widespread popularity in subsequent years—the last couple of decades, really–as perhaps less abrasive than “race” with its all-too-close linguistic ties to “racism” and “racist” and all those accompanying negative connotations.
Of course, merely substituting “ethnicity” for “race” does not chase away fully the visual perception of different skin colors most people still have, but it does open the way to including a variety of cultural factors–such as language, religion, and customs–when identifying a group based on a common heritage and not just by “skin tone” alone.
In my coming-of-age years, however, the word “race” was quite commonly used and indeed it is still with us today–the shade of meaning to be derived from the context and the views of the speaker, even down to vocal inflection and emphasis. Much has changed but much has not–perceptively perceived in the French maxim “The more things change, the more they remain the same.”
On the one hand, science has shown us that many of the presumptions about “race” are demonstrably false. From a biological viewpoint, there are a whole host of genetic and physical traits that cross the “boundary of race”.
There are four main blood types, for instance, appearing in more or less similar proportions among all groups whether their skin looks black, white, brown, red, or yellow. Black people do not have uniquely “black blood” and Asian people do not have uniquely “Asian blood”. This postulate may seem incredibly obvious today but it was not always so. Blood taken from blacks and whites were kept separate as late as the 1940’s during World War II!
As for trying to tie the advances of civilization to “skin color”, our beliefs are likewise sometimes swayed by mistaken notions of differences based on skin color. Especially in the last 500 years or so, many white people succumbed to prejudiced reasoning and became convinced that they were “superior” to other races.
It started with Columbus, poisoned American slavery, fed Hitler’s dream of an Aryan master race ruling the world, and lingers on even today. In truth, cultural, material, and artistic achievements vary widely among the world’s peoples but are found on all continents. They have never been limited to a single group or color.
Scientists would merely say that there is only one human race and not three or four distinct races, if they use the term at all. We are one species, after all, and we can be described in a scientific manner that demolishes the false beliefs pegged to ignorance and prejudice. On the other hand, for the last 500 years, everyone except Rip Van Winkle knows that “skin color” eventually played a huge role in the development of certain countries, including America, as peoples of different continents met and mixed.
Skin color, for better or worse, was branded into the consciousness of nearly everyone alive, especially so after the advent of modern slavery. Notions of “superiority” and “inferiority” greatly influenced the ideologies that emerged out of the coercive relationships formed between conquerors and conquered.
The various tones of a person’s skin color remain strongly marked in our “vivid visual imaginations”–and perhaps nowhere else as strongly as here in America. Although we may all be tempted to insist in an idealistic fashion that “race shouldn’t matter”–joining with Dr. Martin Luther King’s affirmation that what matters far more is a person’s character–most Americans are not born with eyes blind to skin color nor with a wishing wand in their hands.
We cannot make this bigoted and bloody record of the last 500 years magically vanish and replace it with a new world history where all peoples always treated one another fairly and without the least consideration of skin color–however much we might wish that we could!
Such is the tremendously painful legacy of these last few centuries that we are not yet able to lift up humanity onto another plane of equality where the racial animosity of the past can be forgotten and buried. As thinking individuals we can try to lead our lives as free from prejudice as we can make them but on the larger social stage–and looking honestly at the horrific mess left behind by such centuries-long institutionalized racism–we have not yet cured this illness, this madness, this incomprehensible legacy of hatred and violence.
Racism is still with us even though our society as a whole, composed of millions of people, continues to deconstruct racism’s foundation. We Americans continue to chip away at racism’s inept rationalizations while trying to institute fairer laws aimed at promoting equality; we encourage the development of a wiser, more humane, and ethically sound curriculum for our schools. As a people, we continue to create positive change through legal and moral outlets; “we, the people” are participants in trying to create a more democratic society, both now and for the future. Thankfully, much change has occurred, much progress has been made—and yet so much remains to be done.
In the context of the 1950’s, when I was a boy growing up, America had “two” races: white and black. In my neighborhood, there was perhaps some awareness that there were other ethnic groups in America—Hispanic, Asian, American Indian—but they were considered far smaller in number, influence, and significance–and thus much farther away from “mainstream America”.
Indians in particular had become so marginalized and diminished in numbers that they seemed virtually invisible. Indeed, there were many Americans who did not know if there were any Indians left at all, an attitude that still exists even today. Textbooks describing this continent’s indigenous peoples often used phrases such as “forgotten”, “invisible”, and “vanishing” . . . as though Native Americans soon would be no more. They would become extinct like some small wildflower unfortunate enough to find itself in the way of progress and crushed underfoot by a mad onward-rushing industrial civilization.
Although I understood well enough that I could not simply change my skin color or biological makeup by answering the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” with am emphatic “I want to be an Indian!”, I still hoped to accomplish at least two things: first, to remind people to think about Indians, and second, to get a chance to explain my answer.
I must admit that as a boy I knew very little about Indians in this country, where they lived or what their lives were like. My knowledge came from books and from the freedom-loving speech of mother and father, aunts and uncles, who fiercely resisted the arrogance of racism. They actively opposed all notions that western Europeans and white Americans were somehow “superior” to others or born to conquer and rule the rest of the world.
But there was something else: an affinity that ran deeper than book-learning and even principles of justice. What I realized about myself revealed itself in a two-fold way: first, I simply recognized that my personal values were more closely aligned with Native Americans than any other group. The character traits I valued the most were the same as those held in highest regard by Indian tribes: honesty, loyalty, courage, kindness, and wisdom.
As I grew older, I discovered my moral values remained aligned with the best traits for an individual to possess and cultivate, as expressed by Native Americans. Philosophically, I felt more Indian than white.
Secondly, I developed a great love for the study of history and the story of America. Based on such studies, I came to reject any assertion that Indians were “savages” as a bald-faced lie; it was merely a repugnant rationalization for European greed and thievery. I instinctively opposed any claim that European-Americans were somehow “superior” and therefore had the right to conquer and destroy in the manner that they did.
Crimes are crimes, regardless of skin color.
As a simple matter of justice, all of my instincts led me to identify with the native peoples of this land and not with the invading Europeans intent on destroying their culture, and them, as a people. A close reading of the historical record revealed quite clearly how intelligently Native Americans comprehended the full meaning of an individual’s ethical life within a caring and cohesive community. They were artistic and creative, moral and intelligent, humble and venerable towards Mother Earth–but conquest and racism tried to bury all these traits and truths.
Once past the sanitized and fictionalized versions of America’s past, my historical studies also revealed how brutally immoral were the tactics and lies perpetrated by the invading European-Americans. Greed, not justice, drove them forward. Their constant violations of every known ethical standard and legal restraint known to man simply boggled the mind and sickened the soul. The details are too graphic to be included here, but they indicate a savagery without parallel in modern times.
I happen to believe each individual has a conscience. He or she must work out his or her principles and then stick to them—so if one opposes injustice, one opposes it consistently. One does not allow the poison of racism to corrupt and destroy one’s principles. One cannot oppose injustice in one place and overlook the same kind of injustice in another place, merely because the brutal racism and genocide occurred “over there” in the first instance (to be condemned) and then observed “right here” in one’s own country (to be ignored).
This goes to the essence of a person’s character. There was no way I was going to keep quiet and accept what happened as “okay” because it was in the past or in the land where I happened to live. To be a moral and truthful person, I had no choice but to identify with Native Americans. There was no way I was going to accept the conquest of America as “legitimate” or anything other than the brutal greedy conquest that it was, shocking all our sensibilities.
It was a conquest that was unjustifiable, both legally and morally. The centuries-long patterns of violent oppression and excessive brutality that ensued–as a way of permanently enforcing the land theft–can hardly be described as anything else if we are to speak truthfully.
At its worst, the European invasion and conquest of Native American lands reached the heights of genocidal madness. I believe no thinking individual can let such madness go unchallenged. The unwarranted and murderous onslaught, even today, must be exposed and condemned!
After the aggressor generations that did the actual stealing and killing, came their descendants who “inherited” the wealth of these stolen lands. Through ignorance or new rounds of greed-driven racism, they conveniently quieted their consciences into silent acquiescence; in brief, later generations of Americans accepted their ill-gotten gains without a qualm of conscience to hinder them.
Living among the subsequent generations who tried to justify the conquest–or simply assumed their right to own lands stolen from Native Americans–are no doubt many well-meaning people genuinely unaware of what really happened. Still, as the saying goes, “Ignorance is no excuse.”
All too often these descendants have imbibed the anti-Indian hatred which for a long time proliferated nearly everywhere in their surroundings. Some of them became so blinded by their insatiable thirst to acquire more and more property that they let greed overwhelm reason; they accepted the preposterous fictional distortions of the past as “fate” and “unavoidable”, a particularly horrid form of mangled truth.
They allowed what should have been their innate respect for fellow human beings to be blasted and twisted into the most grotesque and irrational shapes imaginable. They gravitated toward views that would justify this bloody conquest of Native American lands; they fell for the lie that the Indians themselves were not “civilized”. They accepted ridiculous rationalizations based on European ignorance, greed, and lies.
From boyhood on, I resolved with all the strength of my being that I would take no part in furthering any more of these crimes and these lies: not then, not now, not ever. I would rather go to my death than add to the chorus of lies that called Indians “savages”. This was a transparent way to excuse a galaxy of grisly crimes such as robbery, murder, and rape that pervasively accompanied the European-American’s “acquisition” of Indian lands.
My answer to the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” was never intended as a joke nor is it born of some deep, mysterious, impenetrable thought. “I want to be an Indian” means exactly what it says.
When I weigh the moral integrity, cultural values, and respect for freedom and conscience, I find no group more worthy of emulation than the “Indians” we once so brutally dispossessed. The virtues and principles of Native American peoples should be seen a contribution to the highest levels of human achievement, not the lowest.
They have more to teach us about freedom and justice than we them; they developed far more democratic practices in their societies than anything Europeans ever achieved–and this was true long before the American Revolution “announced” such ideals.
Today, the much admired Native American understanding of living in balance with nature, of respect for Mother Earth, is an outlook that developed centuries ago. It remains an essential part of their ethical outlook to this day. It far surpasses any philosophy other nations developed in the last two centuries since the start of the Industrial Revolution. Our modern “progress” has destroyed and polluted the Earth with toxic substances on a massive and perhaps irreversible scale, reflecting once again the recklessly stupid and dangerous self-aggrandizement tendencies of European-Americans’ obsession with profit and wealth.
The British Petroleum Company’s oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is only the last major mega-disaster in a long list of unmitigated catastrophes dogging the “progress” the Industrial Revolution has brought us: tomorrow, next week, next year . . . there will be be other greater environmental disasters.
The modern industrial world, under the governorship of giant corporations and right-wing political oligarchies, lacks the basic respect for Mother Earth the Native American people have always understood to be an essential part of a healthy, responsible, and ethical way of living.
As individuals and as tribal members, Native Americans continue to cherish highly character traits such as honesty, loyalty, humility, bravery, generosity, and wisdom. They have a refined sense of spirituality without the obsessive doctrinaire traits of arrogance and intolerance that invariably plague most European-American religions.
From the Indian point of view, one does not need to try and impose his or her beliefs on another; one should respect freedom of conscience and the right to life of all living creatures.
To study the culture and history of Native American peoples fairly, one must first be willing to shed prejudices and misconceptions, even if it means turning history upside down in order to learn anew with open heart, mind, and soul.
This approach in itself reflects something of those values and virtues most closely associated with Native Americans: we must come to the topic with an open-minded willingness to learn from them and not only about them.
“Roger, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I want to be an Indian!”
(and now you know why)
Runs-like-the-Wind (Shawnee)
