Monolith in a Louisiana forest

Thanks for sharing that, George. It was a beautiful, inspiring post.

HiJolly

Ya’at’eeh, Hastiin cwald,

Born of a Muscogee Creek Indian, I am urban and can barely conjure up a dozen Creek words. However, thanks to the LDS church, I served a mission to the REZ and was adopted by the Dine’ (Navajo). How I learned to love those gentle people, the Shi’ma doo Shi’zhe’e, who dwell among the four sacred mountains. I later raised one Navajo boy. He works in the security industry today. He makes me proud, for his honesty and integrity. I know you must treasure your half-breeds. Be sure to list them as Native American first, on the current U.S. census underway.

In my introduction, I left much unsaid. The Civil War devastated the pine forest region. The minor children of the good Doctor and Levitia quickly lost their assets of 45 slaves and 2,500 acres of prime bottom land. Later, two of them, including my great grandmother, Josie, moved to Indian Territory and rejoined the Creek Nation. Marriages were made to full-bloods, so our quantum of Indian blood actually grew. Today members of my family are contributors to the future of our tribe, in education & service. I try not to show to much pride, as grandfather warned us against it.

Ha’goo’nii (finishing talking).

The revival (immersion) of Native American language is not going well. In my own Muscogee Nation, we have 5,000 speakers left. They are all over sixty years old. Among the young, we have one youngster under ten who speaks it fully. In fifteen years, the ability to have immersion exposure will have ended. Money is being spent, especially with the youth, but the results are mostly negative. Here in California, workshops have been held, but rarely and thus unsuccessfully. Language is often continued in song, mostly hymns. As time passes though, folks sing the words, but lose the ability to translate. I speak conversational Navajo because the church placed us in isolated villages, where language was needed for acceptance. The future is very sad. My blood lines include Natchez heritage, but their last two Native speakers died in the early 1900’s.

I am so embarrassed. I had some time today and decided to get better acquainted with some of you posters and worked my way back through Introductions. I found I’d introduced myself twice! I first attempted it back in July, 2009, under the title: “A last ditch effort.” I’m not senile, seriously. I’m just at a much different place today, than I was ten months ago. In my first introduction, I was feeling much pain from what I felt was a betrayal of my beloved church. Now, reading both introductions, I realize I have come a really long way. The same principle usually happens in trial separations. You realize the other party (church) isn’t going to change, and you decide whether or not you can continue on with some measure of what was once concrete. I have found myself able on the local stage, to love my ward, my friends there, to worship with my large family who attend. I have set aside the items on the platter which tie me to corporate headquarters. I have given up temple Mormonism and tithing. A simple calling, fast offering, I’m fine with. In the last several years, I have raised the gauntlet in my affirmation and advocacy for Native causes. Thus when I retired (now nearing two years), and being invited to accept two volunteer church assignments since then, I was able to say “no,” that duties to my own community (tribe) called for me to respond and labor there.

When I listen to General Conference now (not all the sessions – ha!), I listen carefully for the word, “Lamanite.” It once was so much of what I was, as a Native man. It seems to have disappeared. It makes me sad. But then SWK is also gone, and he loved Native people so much (though he warned of mixed marriage). I like to think he wanted us to remain “pure,” rather than to become white .

I said it before, it is hard making new friends when you are old. I appreciate writing here, those things I can’t articulate to my grandkids, other than by example. Mvto! (thanks)

cwald,

You married Navajo, I married white. Not only white, but a relative of Spencer Kimball. Go to General Discussion at this website and drop down to “Spencer Woolly Kimball.” It will explain my association over several decades of his life. We both spoke at my father-in-law’s funeral. Several days later, we had a revealing discussion at his office, just after the announced change toward black priesthood holders. Spencer always attended conferences of the Southwest Indian Mission. You couldn’t have kept him away. He loved the Navajos and other Southwestern Native peoples. He also followed the party line as far as mixed marriages were concerned. The elders would be separated from the sisters at conference. He would have a little talk with us. I smile, because my best white companion, an Idaho man, returned to my location two weeks after finishing his mission. He slept on the chapel floor, found a trading job and a month later, married the prettiest Navajo in our entire district (so much for counsel). Spencer knew I was interested in a daughter of his kinsman, before my mission. He never said anything to me though. We both once shared a dorm room of sorts, for one night, at the mission home in Gallup, New Mexico. He wrote my father (a non-member) two glowing letters about me. I found them after Dad’s death at age 95, carefully saved in a cedar box. I liked Spencer. He came from a small Mormon town that didn’t care for Indians much. He practiced his own advise, to “lengthen your stride.”

PS: At my grandparents house, we were Indians inside, but never outside. There we were just Okies (though my mom & aunts were often greeted in Spanish). Grandpa & grandma knew that “the only good Indian was a dead Indian.” They played the game, because it led to a better life. It did little for the family psyche though. My beloved uncles had sad alcoholic lives. I held a graveside service for my Uncle Mort who died of burns at the age of fifty. Just a half dozen family members attended.

Bryan,

Thank you for those kind words. My appreciate of you grows as I become acquainted with your administrative skills and the stance you take on issues. You obviously think a lot of the StayLDS community and therefore serve well. Service is the genius of the LDS church, even if we must sometimes label same there as “busy work.” I am happy with my life today. Every day is a blessing. I like a “tending the garden” version of myself, having raised a large family who prosper and think for themselves. Loved ones ask for counsel on occasion, and I am usually suggest two options (liberal & “off the charts,” ha!). It is so important to laugh and lighten up in this sojourn we call life. Why would we want to be a sour puss (is that a antiquated term?). Shalom.