Student remembers her shame

OPINION

Page 7

The following was originally written for an English class at Concordia College where Hellen Gladue was a student.

Growing up as a Native and experiencing a shame came to me at a young age. I can still remember Grade 2 was when I first experienced shame. In class, I was the girl

in the corner of the room and would only talk to the students nearby. One of the few students I spoke to was a girl named Marsha. Kindness, generosity and popularity were only some of Marsh's qualities. Just talking to her made me feel happy and good and so

I decided to give her a gift for Christmas.

I went home that night and wondered what to give her. I looked up and saw a miniature pair of moccasins that were tied onto a long string. I knew that was the gift to give to her. I found an empty box which previously contained SOS scrubbing pads. I placed the moccasins inside and covered the box with dark green plastic. I used a pink string of yarn to hold the plastic in place. I placed it on the counter to admire my work.

I really believed she would like my present.

The day of the Christmas party came and I placed her present in my desk. I

would wait until it came time to exchange gifts. I was full of excitement until I saw the other presents Marsha received from her others friends. Pretty paper with bows held chocolates, a ring, and a doll. After that display I felt ashamed to give her my gift in an SOS box with garbage bag wrapping. I held my head down toying with the pink yarn.

I ran home that day crying, with the moccasins still in my hands.

I felt that I was an ignorant Indian and then got mad. How was I to know I was

to buy a gift and cover it with pretty paper and a bow. From that day forward I vowed

to myself that I would learn more so I wouldn't be ignorant or ashamed again. I would show anyone who was watching that Indians can have manners, ambition, and a career. Life went on and my school years changed a little. I was no longer the girl in the corner but rather the ambitious Native girl. During my high school graduation I was chosen to represent the Native students during mass by reading a passage in the Cree language.

The church rehearsal was at the town church at 1:00 p.m. During the walk to church each of us gave a brief interview to the town press. When I started walking around to the back of the church the reporter came beside me. He said, "Hi, how do you feel about grad?" I replied, "Pretty good."

After I spoke those words and turned the corner I saw my uncle. He was sitting on a little hill with tattered clothing and a brown paper bag. He said, "Hi!" and as he did the smell of cheap wine was apparent. I muttered a weak "hi," hoping the reporter hadn't heard me. I was so ashamed that he was my uncle and he was intoxicated behind a church and my fellow students saw as well. The reporter glanced but paid no attention and then asked," What would you like to do now that you have graduated, and why?" I looked up at him embarrassed, remembering the promise to myself. Graduating was to be the first step in my career and setting an example to other Native students. I was red in the face because I had just tried to ignore the reason I was walking in that church.