Art Gallery VIOLETT STORM

When i was younger, there was absolutely no interest in my heritage within any fiber of the brain inside my cranium. I often made my mother cry by my insensitive and incongruous pleading for my folks to allow me to have my skin bleached. My vision of who i was meant to be was in the beauty of the anglo porcelain glow that i saw in my peers. Being a Deathrocker, i was too dark to blend into the fiery, center flame whiteness of whom i admired and surrounded my body with. Of course i used all the good ole stand-bys that us unfortunate "darkies" had to resort to IE, Porcelana, Skinbright etc. My mother accused me often of denying my blood ethnicity, which in my youthful, social oriented mind, i had to giggle. You see, i was consistent with the offering of my blood origin. Everyone that knew me or of me, knew that i was the novelty 'injun' of the scene. Actually, there were a couple more like me with the same feelings of inferiority of the brit(ya know, where it all began) and other celt birthed (hehe) children of Vegas.

The geography in itself was a thorn in my side. I could not walk out to the mailbox or car without achieving the type of tan every sun-worshiping caucasian dreams of until the edge of summer. In the skin-peeling, burn suffering of one hundred and eighteen degrees, i forced myself to wear long sleeves and endure the teethgrinding, laughter stares (not of outsiders, we were all used to that), but that of my peers, by carrying around an umbrella that i insisted was a parasol! And yet the sun, like moth to a flame(hehe), attracted to the thick pigment in my skin, seared through. Most lamentable the sun hour events that somehow would actually draw the LV gothica out into day, woe was me!!!!! Evil plot, by Evil money-hungry misers to poison the already afflicted 'darkie', wasn't my complexion punishment enough?! Sitting in the horrid, itchy grass trying my best to hold back the tears of fire ready to burst angrily from my black, yet light-sensitive eyes.  i could almost smell the sizzling of flesh and destruction of tattoos rising from under the long sleeve-parasol armor. And once more WOE WAS ME!

Okay, let's fast forward more than two decades and see the forsaken result of the LV sun upon on an already shamed 'darkie' of the 80's.

I have lived in the Pacific northwest since the mid-90's, with a five year sabbatical in San Francisco during the late 90's to the early 00's. The sun is such a rare occasion and never the skin-peeling, burn suffering of one hundred and eighteen degrees as once was. My thickly dark skin has become as pale as the Anglo beauty that i was in awe of during the tenderness of my former age. Oh what joy to be...Right?! .....No, No, No. As the increasing of one's years also comes a growth of one's wisdom and familial pride.

Over the last decade(i am a late bloomer i suppose), i have researched my ancestral Honor including why my surname is so off when put to my appearance(believe it or not, my surname is as anglo as they come, hehehe). i have often wondered with such a tiny droplet of anglo DNA how my name happened to be or...With such a "white" surname. why was i so brown?. After enduring years of being teased by friends that i was adopted right off the reservation, at which one moment i began to believe and relentlessly questioned my parents, i learned of the inhuman, horrific "Acts" of the "white man", that finally put an end to this practice of removing indigenous children. The "Indian Adoption Project " and "Child Welfare League of America" was legalized kidnapping of indigenous children from their families for the "white man knew a better way of life".

Skipping ahead the response to this Act was the "Indian Child Welfare Act". Here is the portion of statements made in 2001 by the CWLA in "regret" of previous Ill treatments of Natives:

"One ethnic group, however - American Indians and Alaskan Natives - a people of many cultures and governments, and the original citizens of this land - was singled out for treatment that ranged over the decades from outright massacre to arrogant and paternalistic "improvement." CWLA played a role in that attempt. We must face this truth."

Okay, a little bit of history regarding the practice of adoption/Indigenous peoples. The reason for this is the teasing i went through was quite painful to me(although i never let it show). It followed me into adulthood as far as my thirties. I spent many nights crying and wondering why my Beloved parents would not reveal such a crucial truth to me. You see, if you are looking for something, you will find it!. I began to see all the differences between my brother and myself, and my folks for that matter. Why was i the only Noticeable Indian in my immediate family. There were always good reasons, but when that is not what your after, it loses credibility. How did my parents and brother have blue or green eyes and mine are near black. That is biologically impossible(this one really through me for a loop)!!!!! Although the blood origin stems greatly from the veins of my maternal side, my father pumped native plasma/R&W cells deep through

the veins of his maternal side as well. Yes there were absolute facts that i could not close my eyes to such as one of my paternal cousins was most definitely the original me(she is older), my father's brother could have been the second coming of Wayne Newton and every woman on my dad's side had naturally black hair and eyes(a bit like mine, hehehe)!

I had overlooked one Major factor in the mystery. I was in possession of my original birth certificate from St. Anthony's hospital in Oklahoma city where everyone else in family was born...OOPS!!!!! A slight oversight on my part. Nonetheless, it was due to this inner turmoil i had experienced quietly over the years that i decided to take more interest in who and what made me look the way i did. Being from Oklahoma, the largest of the Cherokee and Choctaw nations(yes, that is what i am made up of, Choctaw AND Cherokee((i am so SICK of the Cherokee jokes, so give it a rest!!!!!)), i knew my previous blood pumpers had walked the "Trail of Tears".

'a small break here because, as corny as you may find me, my eyes fill and blurr remembering the horror i discovered as i read of my family and so many others' suffering. and the "white guilt" that i feel because i have Never come close to these atrocities in my life nor my folks. I still feel and will always, that i am less of an American Indian because of lack of suffering and oppression( i know i am not the only "half-breed" that feels this way' Cher can bite me).

I am not going to provide a history lesson on the brutal Displacement of the Aboriginal Peoples from their homelands. If you do not know, shame on you as it was shame on me, then look it up and learn of it. From here i went on to find out that even more tragedy had become my native familia.

After years of humiliations from having to register as a thing, number, non-human, my family had dissenters.  A sense of pride, yes, but this also caused the loss of detailed knowledge and information regarding where loved ones went and how they lived. Due to eventual shame of being brown, many bloodline members took on false identities, looks and did their best to live as white. My familial name will forever be denied to my parents, my brother, his daughter, my son and me. i will be of anglo name(which of course 80's me jumps for joy), but will never fit in while my skin remains RED!!!!! But now in my life, not as RED as i wish it was.

Be careful what you do wish for. The chances of it happening are high...The chances of it happening when you want it are slim.

I write this not of myself, but of my Family. I only have my eyes to look through and my thoughts to guide me through my beautiful family's history.

MOM, DAD, BROTHER, I LOVE YOU DEARLY AND WILL ETERNALLY THANK MY HIGHER GUIDE, LOVE , SELF THAT YOU WERE CHOSEN FOR ME. I AM TRULY BLESSED!!!!!