Her memories of her childhood are very clear, she remembers dancing at stomp dances as early as the age of three, she remembers her belly jiggling when her aunt carried her into a pow wow arena and danced while holding her. She remembers happy times and sad times. She was always a part of her family and tribe.
When her parents divorced, she was four years old, she shocked her mother with details she gave of her grandmothers earrings she wore during that time, when her mother disagreed, stating her mother never wore a pair of earrings like that, a aunt said "OH! I know those earrings! I have them!" to which the aunt not only produced the earrings, but gave them to my friend who so vividly remembered them, the color, the shape and how they moved.
I never would doubt my friends memory when it comes to details on her life, so I can only imagine the horror of which she describes to me, that I am going to share here, with anyone who finds this blog.
Never regretted growing up and being little when the Beatles came to America, it seemed to have been a different world, a different time. It was a time when you could sleep with your windows open, and your doors unlocked. The Boston Strangler was a world away from where she lived with her mother and her sister.
The house was small, there was what she says is a bedroom and a half, because the second bedroom was so small a roll away bed could barely fit in! Todays standards, some walk in closets are bigger than the second bedroom was. The floors were all hard wood, back then, carpet was a luxury. The kitchen was open, and looked out over a sunken living room, with high ceilings. Outside, in the back yard was a two foot stone wall, and a garage that her grandpa put in a wood burning stove so he could work there in the winter time. In the front yard was a lilac bush, with other bushes that flowered, but she loved the lilacs best of all.
The house set back away from the street, with a long brick driveway that went straight to the door. The house itself was built like a log cabin. It was her most favorite home of all! She loved that house!
One day in 1965, her mother was frantic, cleaning everything! Waxing the floors, scrubbing down the windows, they had very little furniture, a small black and white television that they rented for five dollars a week. The little girl, then aged 6, asked why was this fuss? Her mother explained to her the welfare lady was coming to check on them, no explaining was needed, as this small girl knew, when the welfare showed up, Native children would disappear, most were never seen again. Her fear of the welfare lady put her into tears, her mother calmed her down and let her know everything would be okay.
Her mom worked at a store as a cashier, she worked the graveyard shift, and the family could not afford a babysitter. Family would come and stay with the girls, they were always cared for.
Her mother washed and ironed everything her girls were to wear that day, the girl didn't like the feeling of starch on her underwear and socks! Their hair was fixed up. she wore a perfectly starched and ironed red and blue plaid dress that tied in the back with lace on the white collar, her shoes were black dress shoes that hurt her feet, and so, everything was set to welcome the welfare lady.
The lady arrived, spoke with the mother, and talked to the girls, checking over the girls for any signs of bruises, even looking into their mouths to see if their teeth had been brushed! Oh how the little girl wanted to kick off these starched clothes and shoes and run away! But she knew she had to be a perfect child. The welfare lady checked into the refrigerator, the cupboards, checked the bedrooms, and frowned on the little half bedroom stating that was not acceptable.
The child felt this woman was far too nosey, and so wished she could tell the snooty lady such, but she behaved.
The lady left, with promises to return. And so it all began...
The young girls learned that anytime, a nice car, with a woman dressed all up in high heels came to the house, it was the dreaded welfare lady! They would see the car coming up the brick driveway, and they would go out the other door and hide! Hide fast! She will take us away! These girls lived with this fear. It did not matter the weather, rain, hail, snow, or hot summer days, once, when the girl had turned seven years old, the welfare lady showed up, and in great fear, she ran, she forgot her coat, and her shoes, ran out and hid behind the stone wall, it had been snowing, it was so cold! She had no idea of how long it was before the welfare lady left, but nothing could have made her come out of her hiding place!
It was that summer, the family packed up and left their much loved little house. They went and lived with a friend of their mother, a friend who welcomed them to be part of her family, and thus, the family dropped off the grid of the ever spying welfare. It was difficult for them, no home of their own, feeling like criminals when they broke no laws. Their mother and her good friend both sacrificing to be sure the welfare would not take two little Indian girls.
Her biggest fear is not for herself, it is for her grandchildren. She does not want to have to teach her grandchildren how to hide from welfare people, but she will. This time it would be different, she said she would build a hiding room for her grandchildren, it will be a hidden safety room, where they would be warm in the winter, dry during rain storms, and cool during the summer.... but why should she have to do that?
The legal system needs to follow the law. Adoption attorneys need to consider the rights of fathers, and mostly, the children need to be respected and not traumatized so those who cannot have children are satisfied
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