As a child I grew up thinking that I must have been hatched under a cabbage leaf, since I did not resemble my parents in any way. One day they sat me down and explained that I was adopted, and that they looked at all of these beautiful children and they choose me. How lucky I should feel that they took me away from a loving family, and saved my little Native butt from the bad ole Indian reservation. Little did I know but I had already realized that I did not belong to them and that I was definitely found under a cabbage in the garden.
I remember playing in a huge green yard with a giant tree and I would hide from the sun in the shadow of the trunk of the tree. Thinking I was safe from who knows what. A few years later I had a visit from a lady who came into the yard and played in my wading pool with me. She sat down in the water and gave me a little green frog, and told me that no matter what that frog would always protect me that someday I would want to know where I came from and who I was, and the little green frog would tell me. A while later my adopted Dad came out and talked with the Lady, although I could not hear what they were saying or understand any of it, and then she left. As she walked along the fence I watched her and just before she went out of sight she turned and looked at me with sparkles on her cheeks and waved good bye. I always remembered her, but when my Dad found the frog he took it away. Many years later I realized that was my real mother and that she was trying to leave something with me to find my way home.
It was a long time before I knew or understood what adoption was or how I was involved in it. But once I understood I was very angry with my adopted parents for not telling me who my real mom and dad were. It would not be until the age of 48 when I would find out about my family and find my way home to them. Until then I only had the lies that the adopted parents had told me. They said that my real parents did not want me and that they gladly gave me to them because they did not have any children. Somehow I did not believe that and years later I found that it was true. Until then I would have to survive on my own with my own guts and hope that there was still someone there when I found my way back to my real family.
My real family consisted of 5 brothers and sisters, 420 first cousins, and numerous nieces, nephews, and Aunties and Uncles. My parents had passed on by the time I found them and so I was never able to reconnect with them. Of course with a reunification there are always good and bad, and you take what you find and leave the bad where you found it. I did learn much about my people and I understood why when as a small child I would search out mud puddles to splash in no matter how dirty I got. It was because my people were from the area of the beautiful and spiritual Puget Sound off of the Pacific Ocean just west of Washington State.
For centuries my ancestors had followed the paths of the wild salmon and halibut and had gathered the shellfish like clams and oysters. There are a group of islands in the sound that are known as the San Juan Islands, that include old camp grounds like Orcas Island, Lummi Island, Waldron Island and others, these were where my ancestors of the old days would camp and troll the waters of the sound for catches of many kinds of fish. On these Islands they found groves of stands of berries that were also collected for the winter use for the tribe. They were known as the “Salmon People”, but other nations and were Nomads of the Sound, as were many of the tribes of the Pacific Northwest. They are part of the Coastal Salish and are today known for their carvings in cedar and the baskets that are hand woven and are still used today, as they were passed from generation to generation. One of my most prized possessions is a small basket woven by one of my Aunties. Another is made from cedar bark by one of my Uncles and is used to scoop the water out of a canoe.
There are the things that I found when I made my journey back to my beginnings and met those who I would have grown up with had I not been taken from my family. In the 1950’s thousands of Native children were stolen from families just because the societal issue at the time felt the children would be better off in a home that provided acceptable provisions for them instead of leaving them to live in the rough and unorthodoxed conditions of their families. Many families began naming their children with unusual names in hopes that this would prevent them from being taken or stolen by the Child Welfare Agents or the government agents of the time, as the government was trying to decrease the numbers of tribal members by taking the smallest of them and placing them in non-Native homes to be raised as a white child in hopes that they would never return to their families and be lost forever. There are many children who were adopted and have never reunited with their families but I was determined to find out who and what I was.
I have always believed that I am the kind of leader that shows or teaches by action and not by lecturing. I have tried all of my life to set an example of an honorable and compassionate person and hoped that others might follow my lead. I always wondered if that ever made an impression on anyone and while discovering my familial roots I found the answer to that. I had been living on the reservation for many years, and had kept my chin up and my hopes even in the darkest of times. Though poverty and loneliness I would still hold my head up and smile in a pleasant manner.
One day a cousin of mine came up and sat down to talk to me at a Thanksgiving gathering the tribe was having and all of the members of the tribe were in attendance. He asked if I remembered him from when I first arrived home and I told him I did, that he was the man who drank a lot and ended up in desperate situations and troubles. I asked how he was doing now, and he answered that his life had changed. He said that he had been sober for the past two years and was again living among his family at their homestead with his daughter and her children. I wished him well and told him how proud I was to hear this news. He then looked at me and smiled, and told me that it had been because of me that he had given up the drinking. He told me that he watched me for a long time and noticed that even when I had the same problems as everyone else I did not take up the bottle or the crack pipe. He said that he figured if I could do than he could do it too, that he said was what gave him the incentive to go to rehab and change his life.
Thus my long time question was answered and that is true about life, wonder and the answer will come. If in your life you believe that you are living with hope and love and you continue to walk the straight line of your path your rewards will be obvious to you. Life is a long journey and a great learning experience for all, even for those of us that were once lost we can always find our way back. With that conviction comes great strength that can sustain your life and love forever.
