Personal Narrative-Native Americans And The Clouds

Growing up on a reservation many challenges are thrown at you. Everyday people struggle whether it is with substance abuse, financial problems, or even staying in school. I have difficulties myself living on a reservation where poverty is a big issue. One big issue I had to overcome was trying to continue my education when things were not looking so well for me. I dropped out of high school when I was sixteen years old to help raise my younger siblings due certain circumstances. I shortly found myself going down the wrong path in life. I was searching for something that was not there but I knew in my heart, I was searching for myself. Later, I seen an advertisement on the TV. It was of a program called, 'Montana Youth Challenge' it is a program

In American Indian Stories, University of Nebraska Press Lincoln and London edition, the author, Zitkala-Sa, tries to tell stories that depicted life growing up on a reservation. Her stories showed how Native Americans reacted to the white man’s ways of running the land and changing the life of Indians. “Zitkala-Sa was one of the early Indian writers to record tribal legends and tales from oral tradition” (back cover) is a great way to show that the author’s stories were based upon actual events in her life as a Dakota Sioux Indian. This essay will describe and analyze Native American life as described by Zitkala-Sa’s American Indian Stories, it will relate to Native Americans and their interactions with American societies, it will

I was a passenger in the backseat of our family vehicle. The small bumps in the pavement lulled me to a place of perfect repose. As we looked outside our windows we could see the sky painting a magnificent show for us. The sun was going down, but the heavens were brighter and more astounding than I had ever seen them before. It was as if someone had set the clouds alight with raging wildfires and splashes of pink and purple scattered about. I never wanted it to end, but the sky had other plans. The masterpiece before us began to recede into darkness as the nighttime engulfed the sun and put daytime to

As humans we always ask ourselves some three questions about us. Who are we? Why are we here? And why should we continue to live in this place? We come to these origin tales and myths for answers to these questions. In the Native American myths “The Walam Olum” and “The World on Turtles Back” it clearly shows just how the Native American tribes started there, and should continue to live at the places they started at.

In American Indian Stories, University of Nebraska Press Lincoln and London edition, the author, Zitkala-Sa, tries to tell stories that depicted life growing up on a reservation. Her stories showed how Native Americans reacted to the white man's ways of running the land and changing the life of Indians. "Zitkala-Sa was one of the early Indian writers to record tribal legends and tales from oral tradition" (back cover) is a great way to show that the author's stories were based upon actual events in her life as a Dakota Sioux Indian. This essay will describe and analyze Native American life as described by Zitkala-Sa's American Indian Stories, it will relate to Native Americans and their interactions with American societies, it will discuss

The stars are bright and radiant-- their numbers are vast beyond all imagination. They shine in the dark sky, like billions of little lights hanging from nonexistent threads. It is a reality that not many people stop to admire. In the city people sink down into their couches at night and drift away, eventually, to the slumber that most people crave. But the stars, shining endlessly, are there night after night, in the rain and even in the snow. If you just stop for a moment, on a night with no clouds, and look up, you will see this magnificent

Darkness surrounds the evening sky. The stars were peeking out from their dark home. It looked as if God took a straight pin, poked a sheet of paper with tiny holes. Crickets softly played their symphony as the world slept. James laid in his bunk, staring off into the darkness. He wondered what the day had in store for him. The night watchman quietly walked his route, like a thief in the night.

The lake darkens as the ominous clouds race across the sky, as black as the devil’s soul, and swallows the bliss-blue complexion of the sky faster than you can blink. The world has abruptly become cellar-dark and the heavens above look to collapse down upon me. A deafening wind runs over the landscape like a thousand horses, the noise of the raindrops their clattering hoofs. The threatening force of the gales knocks and blows the trees in precarious ways, almost as though, if it had wanted to, the wind could blow them away as if they were but feathers, not heavy pines. Lighting lights up the sky like liquid, golden ore streaks being forged into forks up above. Wriggling and writhing with the pain of their own existence. Flashing once, twice, three times, polished and glossy like the cold prongs of the apocalypse. Shaking myself from my weather-caused trance, I hurry for shelter under a nearby fern tree. Staring deep into the blackness of the storm I wonder whether I will ever see that bliss-blue appearance

The children?s pale faces came to mind suddenly. The hollowness of their stares. The frightened gleam in their eyes, the hopelessness in their expressions. They?d already been unwillingly dragged into this chaos. They had no choice over the matter. If they can do this, why can?t you? I scolded myself silently.

Raindrops ran down the window pane, creating streaks of water on the glass. A lightning bolt struck lazily, and a quiet roll of thunder followed. Fragile clouds let loose a few rays of sun, illuminating small parts of the city. The woman lounging in the window seat languidly drew a few finishing strokes on a piece of paper, then set the sketch aside, allowing her eyes to roam to the outside. She rubbed them gently, blinking out the dreariness that came with stormy days. No balloons today, she thought with disappointment. They were beautiful with their bright colors and elaborate designs.

It is not common for the populace to try to block out guilt of past actions of their people. I remember learning that Native American people had had their land stolen from them, their food sources were over hunted and were actively killed or enslaved. But that was never taught to me in school, I had learned about it from books and my parents. I was aware they were treated poorly in the past but it didn’t occur to me that many of these practices were happening so recently. That western setters and gold miners would kill them for taking cattle, when the tribesmen only took the cattle because their traditional food sources were gone. The Native Americans were massacred and their killers would be celebrated as local heroes. In addition, it was a shock to me how Ishi was treated as a circus show, it is natural to be curious of other peoples but how the public acted and

As I helped set up the tents, I noticed a gentle breeze pick up. We left the rain fly off so we could look at the stars as we slept. Shortly after I fell asleep, the gentle breeze had brought in dark clouds and turbulent winds began to arise. Our parents slowly woke up after the crickets stopped chirping, and the whistling of the winds made it absolutely

Since my parents made the drastic decision to move from the Navajo Reservation to Phoenix, I had always yearned for that sense of family I had back on the Navajo Reservation. For example, on the Navajo reservation, my family would put up a makeshift volleyball net made out of tree branches and rope and we would have the time of our lives hitting the volleyball back and forth on our “net”. So, if I had the opportunity, I would bring my community more closely together, because I would like for everyone to have a family – blood related or not.

Throughout history, and all over the world, mythology has been developed as a way of explaining the unknown and coping with one’s existence. Why does the sun shine? Well, seemingly, to generations past, something is controlling the universe, so there must be a god in charge of the sun and many other natural phenomenon. During the creation of Native American myths, “there was much in the way of free-range food, but hunting wasn't as easy as getting up in the morning, taking a stroll and shooting a few passing bison with your bow” (Godchecker). Times were tough, “even Plains societies who lived off the prolific buffalo fell under the threat of starvation at times” (Godchecker). Finally, “when herds were found, the people were grateful and

The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.