Keeper 'N' Me
In Keeper’n Me, my first novel, a young Ojibway man comes home to the reservation and needs to discover what it means to be Ojibway. He does this with the help of an old man, Keeper, who introduces him, and you, to the philosophical and spiritual foundations of the Ojibway world. He does this gently and with much healing humor. It's a hard story. It's about becoming lost and being ashamed of who you were created to be. But it's also about coming home - to a community, a history, a way of being and yourself. Written in 1992 and published in 1994 by Doubleday, it's taught regularly in universities and I believe it's because it's because of it's uncompromising generosity. You feel what it's like to be Ojibway in this novel, and you feel what it's like to come home after a long, arduous journey.
Excerpt
Get a lotta
tourists this way now. Never used to be. When I was a boy this here
country was still Ojibway land. Anishanabe we called ourselves. Lotsa
huntin' and trappin', fishin' still good in the rivers. Not like now.
Everywhere there's big expensive fishin' and huntin' lodges for rich
Americans that don't know the difference between a good pickerel and a
bad one. Only fish for the photographs them. Us we used everythin',
every part of everythin'. They come up here year round now with their
guns and rods and reels, big boats and Kodaks makin' lotta noise,
botherin' ev'ryone.
Okay for me, I'm an old man now. I just play dumb Indyun and they leave
me alone. But it's hard on the young ones. Kinda caught between two
things them. Want the big boats, big guns, big money, same time as they
want the culture. Hard to find your way sometimes in life. Me, I'm just
an old man that's been down many trails. How they say in them movies?
The ones that got lotsa Mexicans bein' Indyuns? I lived many winters?
Heh, heh, heh. Guess that's true, only me, I don't talk so romantic
anymore 'less some of them rich Americans are ready to dish out cash to
hear a real Indyun talk 'bout the old days.
Funny thing is, like I told the boy, the old days never really gone.
Not for us. The outside world goes crazy all the time, findin' new ways
to do old things, forget the teachin's their own old ones taught. But
us we listen all the time. To old guys like me, Always talkin' anyway,
might as well listen, eh? Heh, heh, heh.
What I mean is, us we always had our storytellers. The ones who come
and listen to the old men and the old women when they talk. Listen
hard, learn the stories, then go tell everyone same thing. That way the
old days are never gone for us, see? Always got a storyteller to pass
those old teachin's down. Works good long as there's old guys like me.
And we got it good us. Young ones bringin' us fresh fish, fresh meat,
driving us here and there, doin' all kinda work around the place,
hanging around all the time. Not just rich Americans got hired help,
eh? Heh, heh, heh. Nope. Us old guys had 'em beat years ago. Anishanabe
got a good word no one ever argues with, Indyun or not, makes
everything right and okay. We say --TRA-DISH-UNN. Heh, heh, heh. Wanna
make white people believe what you tell 'em? Say it's TRA-DISH-UNN.
Same thing with young ones round here. You gotta do it, we say, it's
TRA-DISH-UNN. Good word that. Makes life easy.
Don't mind me. Been around as long as me get kinda bus in the head and
talk all kindsa things at the same time. Gotta listen though--it's
TRA-DISH-UNN! Heh, heh, heh.
Boy's got some stories he wants to tell. Storeies 'bout this reserve,
this country, our people, how it feels to be a tourist. How it feels to
need someone to show you the way. We all of us are tourists. All of us.
that's my theory. Us we hitchin' and complainin' all the time about
these American tourists that invade our land regular. But there's
teacin's in everythin'. They come to our docks, our camps, right onto
the reserve sometimes, lookin' for a guide so they can get what they're
lookin' for. Fish, bear, moose, anything. When they find one they're
happy and when they get what they're lookin' for they're even happier
still. Just like life, I say, even for us Indyuns. 'Specially the young
ones. 'Specially now, in this world, in this time. That's why I told
the boy that we're all tourists. Everyone. Same thing. Indyun or not,
we're all lookin' for a guide to help us find our way through. It's
tough. Takes a long time sometimes and not lots of people find one
either. Them that do, well, they really got something to say then.
See things changed too fast and us we got a diff'rent way with time.
Never had no punchclocks like the whiteman uses, never had nothin' like
time management stuff I heard about one time, nothin' like that. Us we
lived with the seasons. Always knew what needed doin' by time of the
year not time of day. Always got things done, always survived. Was like
that long time here.
But the whiteman's been inventin' things for a long time now. They
kinda got used to the speed of their world gettin' faster'n faster with
each new invention. Got used to dealin' with time diff'rent
even though they were just like us once. Them they lost touch with the
rhythm of the earth, left their drums behind long time ago, forgot
their old songs, their old teachings and got lost in the speed of
things. But when they got here Anishanabe still lived the old way. My
father was still trappin' the same territory been trapped by my family
for a long, long time. Kinda seemed like the rest of the country got
swept up in the whiteman's progress sonner'n us. But it's been only
'bout fifty years that things really started to change around here and
maybe even lots less since the young people really started feelin' that
lost kinda feelin'. Now they gotta choose between worlds. Wanna listen
to that rap dance instead of the pow-wow drum, watch the television
instead of hearin' stories, make up their own minds instead of hearin'
the teachin's. It's hard. Wanna be part of one world that's slower and
more familiar. It's not their fault. Us Indyuns were always like shiny
things.
Lotsa good things like school and workin' that the whiteman brought
here but still, those young ones need a guide to bring 'em where they
wanna be. Always lookin' for the sign, buyin' diff'rent maps, goin'
here and there all the time. Got the old slidey foot. Always on the
move and lookin'. Wanderin' around all owl-eyed lookin' for something.
The boy knows this. He come here lookin' around too not so long ago.
Funny-lookin' sight he was then, too. Fresh outta the city, not even
realy knowin' he was an Indyun, especially not an Anishanabe. Learned
lots though. But he was a real tourist that one. Coulda got lost in a
bathtub then. Heh, heh, heh. But he learned and that's why I told him
to write all of this down. Be a story teller. Any damn fool can get
people's attention but it takes a storyteller to get their attention
and hold it. Lots of people out there gotta know what happened, how you
found your way and what it takes to be an Indyun these days. Real
Indyun, not that Hollywood kind. That's what I told him. He's a good
boy, you'll see. Me, I'll just come along for the ride, make sure he's
doin' right. Besides, lotta stuff's my story too and maybe if you
listen hard, pay close attention, you'll see that they're your stories
too. Our stories all work like that. It's TRA-DISH-UNN. Heh, heh, heh.
