Living Our Language_ Ojibwe Tales & Oral Histories - Anton Treuer [93]
[9] These old men probably speak the truth. I think so. So the white people fly up into space striving to know about different places. If the Spirit wanted these people [or] other beings over there, he would have placed them so, and they would have belonged over there. Don’t worry about them. And you see this [space shuttle] starts off like that. He enters a new realm when he blasts off and speeds up in the sky like this. So my habitual worrying about this is very sincere, as I remember how all of this was stripped from the earth. So it’s being hollowed out. So that’s why its orbit is altered like this. That’s what I used to hear those elders say about it. You see that one white hair himself now; so too did I hear him when we were growing up.
[10] “Maybe,” my grandfather tapped me on the head, “well grandchild, maybe I won’t live to see it.” So today I see it all around. Nobody is ever heard to say that. That teaching was only given there. I think not. Maybe the elders know this everywhere.
[11] And once that one old man, one time he lived a rich life. Maybe these boys, these children, don’t know about this. I don’t know. These things come back on them. That’s it. They don’t listen. That’s one truth they’re losing, to observe us. Over here in former times long ago, I don’t know what time, this language of ours and our Indian way of being were starting to be under pressure. That’s it. We used to sit in a circle here more those days [with] William Bobolink and also George Goggleye. That’s what I thought formerly.
[12] When did we lose our Indian ways and our language? World War II. Right there. At the time I was sent over there to be a soldier the kids only spoke English. But here when I left many of the children spoke Ojibwe, all of them. But now they only speak English. I discovered that there in World War II, 1940s. It was lost there.
[13] And we never made an effort. This might be the first time now that we are making a sincere effort, endeavoring to teach these children of ours, our grandchildren, to speak Ojibwe, to know who they are.
[14] You see [it’s like] I said the other day: I was there for a long time when I almost ruined my life with that alcohol. The devil owns that drinking. That’s the only reason I worked, as I made that endeavor and got up on Saturdays. And that’s it, these children of ours will suffer as they try to find the truth, the spoken truth of the elder. In the best way, in the best way possible, I try. And I’m not busy. I don’t want to overlook anything. I try to learn about everything. Not all things.
[15] I used to forget about when I wanted to address the Spirit. Hey, why would he listen to me? Up until then I was in a [vicious] circle there when I found he helped me over there in my condition and I was well. It had been so easy for me to be foolish.
[16] And as you all listen to me I’m saying all kinds of things here. That’s what I remember; my grandfather who was usually happy about things came to feel bad for the first time. [He said], “You should own it. This is your only life. In a good way, that’s how you should carry that humor. Don’t go around with a bad demeanor. That’s what should be striven for there. Once in your lifetime you will certainly meet them. You will want those Spirits. Don’t have a low estimation of your fellow Indian. And it’s like he is held in the highest regard himself.”
[17] All right. That’s enough. Thank you grandfather. So he tells me when I bring something to a close. Thanks [to him] for listening to me.
PORKY WHITE
WALTER “PORKY” WHITE (b. 1919), whose Indian name is Gegwe-dakamigishkang (Prancing Horse), is, like his nephew Hartley, a prominent leader in recent efforts to revitalize the Ojibwe language and culture at Leech Lake. Even as an octogenarian and having endured a recent stroke, he travels tirelessly throughout the United