Passage I

Show-and-Tell

I am a Miami Indian from a very small tribe. We have no reservation, so when I was a child, we had no central meeting place. The only Miami I knew were those to whom I was closely related by that family relationship. Much of what I knew about my tribe I had learned from my great-grandfather. When I was very young, we would sit together in his house and watch the woods from the living room window. My great-grandfather's bedtime stories were Miami stories about the animals and seasons. After he died, I would tell the stories to myself to soothe my mind.

Moreover, I took part in a cultural, enrichment program in our school when I was in the fourth grade. It was designed to help American Indian students learn more about their own heritage as well as the heritage of other tribes.

Every other Friday I stayed after class, along with the other American Indian students in my school. There were nine of us, all together we spent our time learning the histories of our different tribes and by participation in show-and-tell activities. Each meeting, one student brought something that symbolized our tribe. I loved learning about the other students' tribes, but I dreaded the day it would be my turn. I thought I would have nothing to offer.(11)

The night before my show-and-tell assignment was due, I lie in bed wide awake. According to Miami legend, the cardinal, or, neehpiki-pihcita, was the guardian of color. Every summer he flew high and low, through woods and meadows, collecting color. I closed my eyes and thought of the cardinal's story, which had always been my favorite. In winter, as color began draining from the woods and sky, the cardinal grew brighter and brighter. When the time was right, the cardinal released his color, and spring returned.

The next morning, my school bag was very light. I had no materials for show-and-tell. As I thought of the story, I would tell that day, my heart felt as bright and strong as the cardinals who hopped among the trees, waiting for their season.