I always wonder why my Oma/grandmother never spoke of her Indian heritage, I have no photos of her in Indian dress, no ceremonial objects, no artifacts. My Oma was a proud woman and did not want the Governments help, over time she finally enrolled my brother and I into the tribal registry.
When I finally took an interest in my heritage, no one was there to teach me the ways of my people, I felt lost.
I did have a family tree that showed a proud heritage, my Great, Grandfather was the chief of our tribe, his name Bluejacket adorns many a street and building back on our tribal lands. This makes me proud to know that I come from that lineage. To know that a great mans blood runs through my veins.
My journey back into my heritage has been a long process. My Oma passed a few years ago, with her passing a part of me was lost, my history, my story. I will forever miss my Oma. I will always regret that I did not spend enough time with her when I was older, seems that life got in the way.
I hope one day to return to my native lands to complete the circle that had been broken, and learn more of my heritage, my people. To find my lost relations, to find a piece of me. Maybe I will feel closure, feel whole.