You Always Remember Your Firsts...

There are first every-things that I can remember...

My first kiss with Marie, a girl I'd grown up with... My first time riding a bike and my first big wreck after my first big "stunt"... My first time driving a car at highway speeds... My first real love... My first child being born...

Now there is one more thing that will stick with me until my dying day... the memory of my very first Pau Wau!

Imagine, if you will, the grounds of a pau wau. For those of you who have never had the opportunity to see one before, permit me to describe it:

As you drive off the main dirt road and onto the even smaller dirt road that leads to the parking area, which is a field of grass, you first see a bunch of three-tiered benches that are covered with tin roofs. These benches/ bleachers form a circle around a central pole. On the far side, you look over and there is an announcer booth, complete with PA system. Behind the booth, there are about two or three booths from which concessions can be sold. (This one also had a baseball diamond near the pau wau area, though I'm not sure how common that is.)

Got the picture? Good. Now fill the bleachers with a bunch of Native Americans. Some of them had drums and coolers, and some were dressed to dance in traditional garb. Most of the cars were darker colored and mostly consisted of pickups or vans, with a few cars here and there. They were all getting ready to have a great day. Then, a white minivan pulled up.

Yes folks, that would be me and my family.

As we pulled in, I look to my wife and kids and then to everyone outside and think, "Oh, boy!"

I was there to watch one of my students dance. I dragged my family along for the experience. I was wondering what my wife was thinking then...

More later!

Wasichu-Witko
-Mr. X

It Started With Jackson

It was the second or third day of school and I was up reviewing our classroom procedures. The students were looking a little bored, even though we were acting out the procedures. I chanced to stop near one student's desk for a couple of minutes and that's when it first happened...

I felt someone rubbing my arm.

I looked down and there was Jackson, just looking at my arm and rubbing it. When he saw me, he looked embarrassed and stopped. Some of the other kids nearby laughed a little at what he had done, so I ignored it because he was already a bit embarrassed by what had happened.

Later on in the day there were at least two other kids who did the same thing to me. I just laughed each time it happened. I thought it was the wierdest thing. When the day cmae to an end I told my aid, Sitting Bear, about what had happened throughout the day. He laughed too and then said, "It's because your arms are hairy. We don't have a lot of hair on our bodies."

I laughed and replied, "It's a good thing I don't go shirtless around here or they'd be feeling my belly and chest, too!"

So, now, when kids come up and touch my arms I just ignore it and rack it up as curiosity about the new wasichu in their school.

Bye for now!

Wasichu-Witko
-Mr. X

The Flag Ceremony and... Is something burning?

There is this tradition here at school that they do every Monday morning, and that is their flag ceremony. Now, we Americans might imagine an American Flag being hoisted up at the mentioning of a flag ceremony, but that is not what happens on the reservation. Here they are a sovereign nation and they choose to have a ceremony around their flag.

Sounds reasonable enough…

They have the whole school form a circle around the gym to represent unity. Then they call out about four young men to bang the drum and sing their flag song. I’ll have to admit (the first time I heard it) it sent chills down my spine. These young men were singing a song of their ancestors and it reminded me of exactly who I was: a wasichu (white man) peering in on a sacred tradition.

While the boys sang, a woman walked around the circle with a bowl that was smoking! My first thought was, “Can they burn things in school?” Then, I remembered where I was. As she passed me, I waved a little bit of the smoke at myself (I picked that much up from watching my students do it), but then she took her hands through the smoke and over my head.

My first reaction was to choke; which I fought back. Then I held my breath (as inconspicuously as possible) as she moved on to the other students and teachers. It didn’t work. My first breath was filled with the smell of burning sage. The smoke hung in the air around me and I was forced to breathe it.

Later, my aid explained to me that that ceremony is called “smudge”. They do it to cleanse themselves and prepare themselves for a week of learning. It is supposed to drive out negative spirits and energies. For more information on it, follow this link.

Well, as much as I’d like to ramble, I need to get to school. It’s Monday, and you know what that means! That’s right! The Monday Flag Ceremony and Smudge!

Wasichu-Witko
-Mr. X

Introductions (Part 2)

So, where was I? Oh, yeah! I'd accepted the job...

In order to get there, I had to drag my family across a state and a half- along with all of our belongings. I drove our rental moving truck and my wife drove the whole way with the kids in our white minivan. When we finally got to where we were going, it was in the middle of nowhere...

Let me put this into greater perspective: We went from a town with a population of nearly 43,000 people to a small group of buildings on a reservation with about 150 people- when all of the teachers didn't go home for the weekend.

I called my father and told him where I was. "How do you get there? Where's it at?" he asked.

"Go to the middle of nowhere, then drive about 40 miles further and you should run into my house... if you go in the right direction!" I jokingly answered.

The next week, I started my teacher in-service. That's where the staff gets together and are informed about new policies and reminded about procedures. Well, they started off with introductions. I was excited to be teaching! I was excited to be there! But almost every other person said that "It can be a challenge" and they seemed to look right at me when they did!

Suddenly, I became a little nervous.

So, when it came my turn to introduce myself, I said, "Hi, I'm Mr. X, the new teacher. And I'm wondering why everyone looks at me when they say 'it can be a challenge.' Is there something I should know?" A riotous laughter erupted from everyone and I sat back down.

Later, I would find out why everyone laughed.

Bye for now!

Wasichu-Witko
-Mr. X

Introductions Are In Order...

"You can call me Mr. X," I tell my students.

...For those of you who are flipping through and choosing to read my blog, you can call me that, Wasichu-Witke (Crazy White Man), or maybe just Wasichu (White Man). Whatever it is, please remember that I'm a human being, too, and that I have feelings like any other.

When I first learned about this teaching position that I have taken up, I was not concerned with who I taught, as long as I was teaching. I was interviewed over the phone and was given ample time to think about the job before I accepted the position. The principal even wanted me to "talk it over" with my wife before he would let me accept the job.

Of course... I was excited to get my FIRST TEACHING JOB! However, I guess he did have a point... So, I took Bill's advice and talked it over with my wife. It just so happened that we were in transition of living spaces, the job market for teachers was flooded, and we had three little mouths to feed. In short, it was a quick decision for both of us to make. (Besides, they were offering us a place to stay REALLY cheap!) We called Bill back on the Monday after the call and accepted the job.

It's late, but I'll tell you more about it later! Good night All!

Wasichu-Witko
-Mr. X