Recently I attended a Native American Conference in Washington. After the Conference ended, the hosts held a round table discussion. I stayed to be a part of the dialogue. I listened to people share their anguish as to the trails that they have in the modern life of Native Americans. I heard a story from one woman who was adopted out as a young child and was raised as a Caucasian. She later realized that she was Native and attempted to return to her tribe only to be rejected. She also lamented about the fact that she had grandchildren who were from three or more tribes. Where would they fit in? How could she teach them their culture? What could she offer them?
Another story was from a woman of a mixed breed. She came from a large family. Half of her siblings were enrolled in the tribe and half of them were not. Where did she fit in? Other stories were shared about people not “looking” Native enough. They were enrolled tribal member who did not feel accepted because of the way they “looked.”
As I sat there, I thought about my own story. But, I did not share it. I felt that my story was important enough, but the feelings it emotes were too strong to speak. But as I left and reflected on that conversation, I wished that I had shared. Maybe I did have some things to say that would be helpful to other people. Maybe I could offer hope to people such as these who were so lost and hurt by the members of their tribe.
So, I decided to share my story: My great grandfather, Pross Pichette, left the Grand Ronde Indian Reservation when it was terminated. He took his family to the Oakland Oregon area where he was a sheep shearer. There weren’t many other Natives in that area and Natives were looked down upon at that time. Because of that, my Grandmother Edna Pichette pretended to be a Caucasian while growing up. My father Lary Cole, however grew up knowing that he was Native and he was very proud of that. I spent a lot of time with my father, and he shared many stories with me about the Native way of life and their philosophy. I grew up wanting to be a part of the Native community. My father dreamed of one day receiving his “Native card” so that he could prove that he was Native. My sister Lori became interested in genealogy and filled out the paperwork that provided my Father and his children their enrollment into the Grand Ronde Tribe. I remember that as a very important day in our lives. My Father’s dream had come true and we were all there together to be a part of it.
