Free Whispering Spirits by Rita Karnopp Page B

write
interesting, exciting stories that showed how life was for the
Blackfeet in the eighteen hundreds. I decided I didn’t want to
force the knowledge of how life was destroyed by the coming of the napi’kwan …but show it in my stories.”
    “You now have your masters in writing and
your bachelors in Native History. Your dream of being a professor
will soon come true. Have you decided where you’re going to
teach?”
    Summer drew in a breath, then slowly released
it. “If you’d asked me that question a month ago, I would have had
a confident answer. Now…I’m not certain of anything. I have two
offers to consider, but until this murder investigation is behind
me, I’m not certain what the future will be.”
    “Maybe you should consider teaching writing
and Native history to our young people. Your father is teaching
them to speak the language of our people. Would he not be proud if
you were to teach them how to write stories about their ancestors,
the struggles of being Blackfeet, and the challenges of their hopes
and dreams?”
    There seemed no way to deny what Running
Crane suggested had merit. “I…told myself I’d never return to the
Res. I don’t want to raise my children there…and I…want to move on
with my life. I don’t want to be held back by old traditions and
old ways. We can’t live in the past, Running Crane. We can’t raise
another generation of dependent Blackfeet.”
    “Is that what you think our people are doing?
High-tech society lures our young people away from learning their
own traditions and language. The lack of jobs and income sends our
people away from the reservation and the ties of family are left
behind. We struggle to find a way to combine the values of the napi’kwan and our people, to build a society of respect and
pride. The Ni-tsi-ta-pi-ksi must be a combination of ancient
traditions and modern challenges. If our people are going to
survive, we must learn to understand, respect, and accept each
other’s ways…and live in harmony.”
    Summer stared at the shimmering water,
hearing his words and remembering a time when she felt as strong
and determined as Running Crane. She had lost her way…and only
wanted to be left alone without the constant reminders of the
problems her people faced on the res. “I’ve…wanted to be free of
the demands such thinking creates. I’ve come to believe that we
have to let go of the past…and move on as other races have done.
Look how the ancestors of the Blacks have merged into society.
They’re equals now…after years of conflict and determination. If we
continue fighting against the napi’kwan’s society, we’ll
never become equal.”
    “Giving up isn’t the answer, don’t you see?
If we create a curriculum that supports our cultural ways, we’ll
have the people’s support. There’s no reason we can’t teach our
youth pride in their past, create a present with strength, and a
future with fortitude of spirit.”
    “You would be a great asset to the Tribal
Council. Have you considered running for office?”
    “Actually I’ve decided to do just that. There
are a few things that need finishing before I can devote my
energies to that end. Believe me, I’ve given this a lot of thought.
Although the Tribe owns a pencil-and-pen factory and the Blackfeet
National Bank, non-Indians own most businesses and services. The
Tribe and the federal government do provide some employment on the
Reservation. But most people don’t realize that only one out of two
working-age Blackfeet have a job and Tribe members must survive on
around four thousand seven hundred dollars a year.”
    “And that’s my point. Why would anyone want
to stay? Non-Indians care about those starving in foreign
countries, sending aid and help…but they don’t see what’s in their
own back yard. You see the problems…yet you don’t live on the res.
Why?”
    “Because I’m doing more good from the
outside. I’m creating awareness and I protect our