i've been hesitant to share this, but here goes nothing...

hearing over the noise and through the silence

my mother told me about my uncle bob. 

robert lee, he fought for the south. 

shh, don't tell. he fought for the south.

our uncle bob.

mom, it's ok. my uncle bob, he was a good man.

no shame for my uncle bob. 

my uncle bob.

my mother told me i was an austrian princess.

a secret austrian princess. 

the civil war cast us out. cast us out of austria.

i am a secret austrian princess. 

my mother told me we were irish. oops. we're scottish.

mcrae is scottish. my grandfather is mcrae. my grandfather's grandfather. 

he's mcrae. i'm kirsten. kirsten is my grandmother's married name.

grandmother kirsten, she's blackfeet. 

grandmother kirsten, doesn't know her son's father. grandfather's father.

grandmother kirsten, she's blackfeet. she's blackfeet...i'm blackfeet?

grandmother kirsten, she's blackfeet.

i'm blackfeet?

they say i'm indian. i'm not indian. i don't know what it means to be indian. 

are you indian? they ask. they all ask. they ask everyday. i never know the answer.

am i indian? i don't know the answer.

if i say yes, am i posing? am i pretending? am i lying?

if i say no, am i withholding? am i suppressing? am i hiding?

my mother says, you're so lucky you know your mom. you know your dad.

you're so lucky, she says, for the family you know, the family you have.

you're so lucky you're american. you're american, american. 

we've been here forever, my mother says. forever, my mother says.

i'm blackfeet?

my mother's mother she speaks again. dakota, she says. dakota. 

my father's grandmother she speaks again. montana, she says. montana.

they say to me, lakota. they say to me blackfeet. my mother says forever. 

who am i?

french, lakota, scottish, irish?, blackfeet, cree? or creek?, austrian, german.

does that make me who i am? am i part of all of these? 

my foot? what part is that? my elbow, what part is that?

no. 

i am not part anything. they are a part of me.

my heart is 100 percent me. i am all colleen. 

even now i can't get the words out. how do i say them? can i say them?

will they come out?

can they ever come out?

i may never know. 

but i know i am me.

i am colleen.

feeling on top of the world

wow. 

the huskies won the championship. vicky and i raced back to the newsroom from mcmahon. it was all a-buzz. a tingling tangible excitement in the air. 

we had to rearrange where to put the content, decided to hold off a news story so the softball story could take the whole front page. 

i. was. pumped.

i. was. scared.

i didn't know what to do. i looked at my mockups for a full front page cover. nothing special. if we got the right photo, we could do it. 

and then christian sent me his headline from oklahoma city: Later, Gators.

at that point, i knew i had to give justice to an incredible headline. i had to give justice to a great story. i had to give justice to that awesome shot. i had to do it all. and i had to do it now.

my palms were sweaty, i felt the adrenaline rushing through my veins, pumping faster and faster, like it was pulsating to the beat of the music blasting in my ears. 

i knew i had it. i saw it in my mind. i let the page dictate what my hands did. 

finally, it was almost done. i let people see it. we printed it out. deliberated. finally, we knew we had it. sending it off to the printers with a certain amount of trepidation, hoping we did it right.

turns out we did. i felt confident about it last night. i e-mailed one of the authors of sportsdesigner.com thanking him for his site and telling him how it inspired me for this paper.

he responded:

Excellent work!

As a UW grad (1994, but never worked at The Daily), I'm very impressed. I think I'll post the page. The hats are a great touch.

i re-read it, not believing what my eyes had told my mind. read it again. and again. now slower this time. and then faster and faster. omg. omg omg!!

not believing what luck i had fallen into, i quickly went to the site. it seemed to take FOREVER to load. and then...

it was like my heart stopped. and then started pumping so hard i thought my sleeping family would be able to hear it. i gave an audible YELP of excitement. i heard movement upstairs, should i go wake them?? tell them the amazing news????

my hands shook. i posted the link on facebook, still high on the adrenaline. wow.

feeling on top of the world.

probably the highest i've felt all year. :D

fast as molasses

for the first time in my life, i spilled molasses. and it ran all over the place. 

yup. you heard me. or rather, read that right. the molasses went everywhere. 

i opened the van door to get the rest of my belongings from moving out of my apartment when i hear the THUNKRASH of a glass jar breaking. it was my molasses — a recent favorite of mine when baking bran muffins — and the driveway meeting in a crash landing. it was SOOOOO hot out that the molasses immediately ran everywhere. i stood there staring at it in wonderment. wow, i thought, that sure is going fast. 

crazy how in this heat, molasses runs fast, and people run slow. i've been feeling as if i have been moving through molasses the last few days. but now that i've actually seen how molasses can move, maybe i've been moving like molasses running through people? 

funny how this heat has just turned everything topsy-turvy. the newsroom is super hot. we're all walking around in our tanks and shorts and sandals when just a couple weeks ago, you couldn't walk home w/o a jacket. 

yup. i measure my life through the daily. and as i sit here now, i think to myself how fast the daily has passed by me. it's like molasses, thick or thin, it keeps going, and sometimes it will surprise you how fast it can actually go.

in the next few days i'll post a shout out to my time here as design chief, putting that job to rest and welcoming next year as the managing editor.

the angry indian

i was listening to native america calling today and something they spoke about really got me thinking. they were talking about "when do you feel most native." and the point was made that many times, the indian only comes out around non-natives when you get angry about something offensive someone said. 

i realized that i have become an angry indian. i only talk about native issues/topics when someone plays devil's advocate or ask a question that i feel needs a lengthy — and often times bitter — answer. i never get to talk happy about my experiences. people don't want to hear that.

i've had so many positive experiences through this journey. one of which is reconnecting with my blackfeet roots (and pretty damn sure about those lakota roots too). i had an amazing experience about a month ago i've been timid to share with people because i feel they may judge me for it. and i almost don't want to share it because maybe it will make it less special.

but in order to make an effort to not be an "angry indian," i'm going to share it here. 

i was invited to sweat with my t.a. who has opened my eyes wider than i thought they could go. so wide i think i can see things in the back of my head. it makes me know things i didn't know i could know before. like the fact that i need a hairbrush since i can see all the way to the back of my head now. she saw my eyes opening and the pain and hurt and confusion and saw that i was lost. she said, come to sweat lodge. so i came. 

i'd sweat before, once, last summer. it was done by lulu. she led it in a lakota tradition, she is creek. it was one of the most powerful experiences of my life. i felt blessed to have been a part of it. so i jumped at the opportunity to sweat again. 

it was the same. it was different. it was done in the blackfeet manner. even now i smell the sweetgrass. and i am overwhelmed with a calm on my chest. 

dark, hot sticky. you're nowhere and everywhere at the same time. you are completely out of your body but much too aware of the heat and wet of your skin. you move and you feel your skin. you feel all your skin. you hold up your head with a limp arm. you pray. you sing. you feel your voice coming from the very tips of your toes. it surges through your body, keeping you there; keeps you from completely going away. people say they need a hot shower so they can just cry. just crying in their hot shower. this is that. and so much better. so so so much better. you are in your mother's womb. the ground is holding you up. it's the only thing holding you up. then the songs speak to you. i feel the song in my chest. it hits my heart. hits at it and hits at it and hits at it. finally the shell breaks, like a dam, and all the water of emotion come pouring through my skin, my eyes. i feel the escape as i cry out. i sob. i can't understand it. i just feel it. i rock my body back and forth. cradling my spirit. soothing my soul like the precious babe it is, vulnerable and scared. i feel completely alone. i let myself cry out. i let the sobs come. and then i am not alone. i am surrounded by women who are supporting me as the ground supports me. without words. i feel their support. the door is open and i breathe in the clean air. for the first time in a very very long time i feel as if i can breathe. my lungs gulp in the clean cool air, bringing me back to my body. bringing me back to now. i fill up with the clean air. all the dark air is out. clean air in. i breathe. i breathe. sobs keep coming, forcing out the hurt the pain the dark. each new breathe i take is a new light. i grab my chest only to find the heaviness gone. i feel i have come home after a long trip away. i know i am right where i am supposed to be. 

i find out later the song that broke my heart's shell was blackfeet. it was a song to call them home. but i already knew that. i knew that already. 

after the sweat is done, i walk outside. i look around. there's a car that drives by. it's light almost blinds me. i call my name. i call it again. the word is heavy on my tongue. colleen. me. mine. colleen. coll een. i breathe. a heavy breath. i'm coming home. returning to my body. i was gone. i try to return. 

my face feels free. my chest is open. i was unable to call myself back all the way. i eat the sweet pineapple and i feel the juice run down my wrists, my arms. the sweetness brings me back a bit more. i go home. i go to work, too soon. i still have my open chest. it gets stuffed with not things i want to be in there. but karen took care of me. but that's another story.

i am thankful for the song. i am thankful for the prayer. i know now why i have always felt this pull to montana. it's my home. i need to go back. it's calling me back. the songs, the smells, the prayers. i want to feel the happiness of the bond that i'm lacking. 

if i feel it, maybe i won't just be an angry indian. maybe i'll just be indian.

what year are we in? weird, i thought it was 2009...guess not.

7-year-old gets unwanted haircut

this is just outrageous. clearly there's still a lot of change that has to occur. the story speaks for itself. if i'm feeling like it, maybe i'll leave my thoughts later. can't right now. too angry.

other things to complain about

oh this job. oh how this job has taken its toll on me. first, glasses. and NOW i have this huge bruise on my pisiform, as well as a callus there, too. it hurts. i'm getting beat. and i'm getting beat bad. there is bleeding occurring under my skin. this sucks.

and let's not even get into how it affects me mentally! unfortunately i can't capture that on a photo...

what most non-natives know about tribal government

as i am both very interested in native issues as well as journalism, a few people have mentioned mark trahant's name to me, as he is a native journalist. then i was asked if i'd seen the video where president bush attempts to explain sovereign nations in the 21st century. 

if nothing else, this just goes to show HOW MUCH people — and not just your average, out-of-the-political-loop joe — actually don't know about tribal governments.

Watch the video here:

Bush explains it all

my class reflection

so, this quarter i've been taking probably the most influential class i've ever had the pleasure to take. it's really changed the way i thought i knew my society, my culture, myself. i finally get things i didn't quite fully understand before, specifically within the native community. but it's affected my thoughts and understandings of everything else as well. 

i used to think i was open minded because i was "educated." my education somehow made me open minded by default. yet when people spoke of creationism or republican politicians or people who chose not to go to college, i just shook my head, not being able to understand how wrong people could be and how right they thought they were.

i just don't understand how i never really understood before. how could i just eat up everything people said to me without pausing to even think to question it? or look at it from a different angle? 

it almost makes me sick to my stomach. just sick. sick to know i know nothing. i can't understand how i looked down on people who chose not to go to college, looked down on myself for only wanting to get my bachelor's degree, feeling like i would somehow be a failure or insignificant if i just became a mother and didn't do anything positive. these thoughts weren't born solely of my own accord, they had some help getting there. 

why does our culture put such importance on "education" rather than on experience? experience is as hands-on as education can get, in my opinion. but maybe that's just the way i best learn things. 

everything thus far in my life has been to prepare me for something else, so i don't end up a failure.

what measures success? 

can i be a failure if i'm happy?

why must we "set our sights high" and "reach for the stars" and "strive for success"? what's so wrong with just being. just living. just loving.

i refuse to let my profession define me. why should i let it define others?

how can one class uproot everything i thought i knew? maybe it wasn't rooted very strongly. or maybe it's taught by a very very strong wind.

along the lines of my last post.....

is homework hindering — rather than helping — education?

i would LOVE your thoughts on this topic.

thanks for the link, kim!

stop homework

the problem with evolution

so, i suppose this post is a result of various people talking to me today about paleontology, the missing link, darwin, string theory, etc. — probably because people don't understand the difference between paleontology and archaeology — and their assumption that i would be excited about such news. and their assumptions would be correct if i considered myself a scientific archaeologist or even an archaeologist at all.

but i'm not excited. i'm completely the opposite.

personally, i believe in the science behind evolution. and i know it to be true, to an extent. but that is really not my main issue here. people tell me about the missing link being found and ask me if i'm excited. why? why is our society and culture so concerned about finding out "the truth"? why do we NEED to know? how does it benefit us? and do those benefits outweigh the political consequences it creates in the native community? the argument "oh, we're all immigrants here after all!" comes to mind. (google: vine deloria)

yes, i think the theory of evolution should be taught to students. but i think something is seriously wrong with the amount of importance we place on the theory of evolution — and the lack of diversity in education — and on archaeology as well. i find myself becoming more and more frustrated with this almost ravenous curiosity surging through our society. and the praising of those who are "seeking the truth." the "academics." we putt their worth and their value above those who do "less impressive, more menial" tasks, such as working the land for sustenance, a skill many academics (even those who study these processes) could not even begin to demonstrate successfully. but hey, talking about how to farm food is just as necessary as me as eating food, isn't it?

our culture puts too much importance on seeking the "truth" scientifically. knowledge is power. power is corrupt. education is probably the most important tool people can wield. unfortunately, the way our education system is setup, we're all learning the same things. we're regurgitating information put into us that was put into our parents into their parents and their parents. even darwin would argue that this is a bad idea. we're eliminating the diversity of the education of our community. if we all know the same things and think the same way, what good will come of that? what bad will be able to change? 

education should be personal pursuit of information, perspectives and process of thought and analysis. 

i'm surprised i was able to keep that rant so short.

there is more than one truth. and if you don't think so, that is the truth, too. ... don't even get me started on that one. 

so yes, i think it's cool that "the missing link" may have been found, but only for those who care. more than anything, it makes me raise my heckles even more.

the problem with pants

getting dressed really should not be such a traumatic event as it seems to be for many women. in order to avoid feeling depressed and uncomfortable and frustrated, we all have our stash of safety pants. safety pants fit you all the time. they're practically magic. you put them on and you know that zipper will zip and that button will button and you won't entice the fatties with your lovely muffin top. you don't necessarily feel super hot, but you don't feel like a lardball. i oft choose not to feel like a lardball (too greasy) so most of my pants fall into the safety-pant category.

unfortunately, my thighs have decided to wage war against my well-being and peace of mind. 

i don't know why it happened, but starting in august, i have lost seven — SEVEN — pairs of safety pants. they have all suffered strikingly similar casualties — ripping in the inner thigh, just too high to make into shorts — so i know it's not the pants' fault. i don't so much mind that my thighs seem to be ballooning before my eyes, i only really mind about the fact that i am down to three — THREE — pairs of jeans. three pairs may be sufficient for people who, say, do laundry, but since i don't, three pairs is nowhere near enough. 

it's enough to make a girl want to start wearing skirts. let's see the thighs try to bust out of those, baby.

dear world,

today i didn't hear my alarm clock. this happens quite often. this makes me wish that my alarm clock was a very large man named bruce with hairy arms. every morning he would shout my name and i would wake up. and then i would get to hit him on the head.

alas, i only have my phone and my ikea analog clock.

normally this isn't too big of a deal. today wasn't normally. i get a call at 9:49 a.m. from nicole — editor at the daily as well as group member for publication class — asking where i am for our 9:30 a.m. class in which we had a presentation.

SHIT! (excuse the language)

i jumped out of bed, threw on the first thing i found, heard kate moving around and asked if she could drive me to school — she's awesome — as i was peeing on the toilet, putting my hair in an impromptu ponytail. we raced out the door and flew down 17th (safely) in the black ford focus. she pulls into the communications building parking lot and i open the door before the car comes to a complete stop. i race up the steps, taking them two at a time. i rush to the daily where we're having our presentations. i slide in — probably not as stealth as i thought i was being — and asked nicole if they got a chance to print out our project i had e-mailed to them last night. they hadn't. so i ran downstairs to meet up with bjorn — our other group member — in the print center. with some minor difficulties and $13.83 later, we had our project. we both ran back upstairs and i mounted our papers just in time for them to go up on the board. 

phew. 

we presented our redesign of the issaquah press to the class. the editor of the press was there as well. she liked our design and was really excited about it. which made me excited about it.

i love newspapers. i think i'm going to try and get a job designing newspapers in montana on my way to law school. 

today was an up day. almost too much of an up day. but i stank bad all day, so maybe that made up for it? that'll teach me to not shower in the morning because i can't hear alarm clocks apparently. 

looking forward to camping in hope this weekend. way excited. 

no longer pitting out,

colleen

i really do enjoy thunderstorms and lightning. something i miss about colorado. i was going to record a video about it and just as it happened, i got a phone call...