Lonely hearts have options

Page 7

Being Native in this wacked-out country called Canada can be difficult at the best of times, and at the worst of times...well.. let's just say these days. Oka stands for more than just a particular brand of cheese (which is does, by the way.)

On top of the regular everyday burdens of Aboriginal life in Canada, being a single Native person in today's society only adds to the difficulty. Traditionally, in bygone days, there were tried-and-true practices for getting single, eligible people together to marry and make little moccasin wearers. But unfortunately, these have gone the way of competency in government.

So what does a young (or-not so-young) Native person do when his heart turns to the idea of love and where to find it? I know of far too many single Natives wondering where all the good 'skins' are hiding and where to find them. Well, there are several options available to the lonely Indian. He/she could follow any number of conferences or sports tournaments that have become the select meeting ground for upwardly and laterally mobile Native people. Basically they're the Aboriginal equivalent of a singles bar. Or there's the old stand by for the more tradition-minded, the Powwow trail, where the concept and practise of "snagging" has become a fine art.

In fact, unless you know the ground rules or proper terminology, the action can get kind of confusing. A non-Native friend and I were working on a project with some other Native people and she loudly requested - quite innocently - across the room asking if she could "snag" me for a few moments. All eyes turned to the two of us and I remembered the perplexed look on her face, and the one of anticipation on mine. That was, of course, until she learned the Aboriginal connotations of that word, and well....

Several theories have been put forward concerning why meeting people is so hard these days One school of thought blames it on the romantic literature that has been forced upon us instead of our traditional stories. Take ROMEO AND JULIET, two star-crossed lovers whose parents are at war and in desperation the lovers end up committing suicide together. A great tale told by a great writer, I'll admit.

What wonderful piece of literature are we presented with? Remember the song RUNNING BEAR (Loves Little White Dove), about two star-crossed lovers whose tribes are at war and they end up committing suicide in the middle of a river? And it was written by somebody known as The Big Bopper. Now that's wrong with this picture?

And to the best of my knowledge, I have yet to come across any self-respecting boriginal person who knows anything vaguely resembling the famous Indian Love Call. I personally have tried the Jeannette McDonald version in a few Indian bars. You know, "When I'm calling....ooouuu...oouu..." It doesn't work. Trust me.

The few dates I have had lately can be loosely categorized into what I call the three "tics." They are sometimes erotic, possibly exotic, and unfortunately, usually neurotic. That's why I wasn't surprised when my doctor told me I didn't have a heart anymore, just scar tissue.

But Native people are adaptable; the climate changes, so they change with the climate. And typically, it's started off with Native women taking the bull by the horns, so to speak. A while ago, several single Native women were lamenting the very fact of being single, and that there seemed to be so many of them floating around out there with no direction . And since there is always power in numbers, they decided to band together to form a Native women's singles organization.

What to call themselves was first on the agenda. Several names were bandied about but the one that seemed to catch the imagination was a slightly modifed version from the movie STEEL MAGNOLIAS. Since Native women don't have a steely color and have instead that wonderful brown shading, they decided to christen themselves...The Copper Magnolias.

But as it was quickly pointed out, what good is asingle Native women's organization without a single Native men's organization? That's how I got drawn into this. I was approached to found and name the equivalent of their organization for social events, etc.

My brain toiled with the problem. There was obviously no shortage of membership, so that was taken care of. But what to call our beloved association? I had to come up with a name we would all be proud to call ourselves. A name that would describe fully the experience of the single Native male. Then it came to me...our name and 489 symbol would be....The Standing Pine Club.

As I write this, chapters of both organizations are being formed all across the country. Except in the Arctic, where there are no Standing Pines, only Standing Lichen. Somehow it just doesn't have the same impact.