Ths Shamaness by frostwoman1954

The Shamaness
by
� frostwoman1954

A Lone Cry In The Night

Deathly silence was in the little log cabin. The small house, owned by a relative, was tiny with no electricity or indoor plumbing, heated only by a wood and coal-burning pot bellied stove. There were two little windows that let in the glistening moonlight, augmented only by two kerosene lamps to help the old women see to the matter at hand. A woman went to the river nearby to get the water needed for the impending birth, scuttling between the snowflakes falling softly like a cottony white fleece blanket all around her. The night was silent as the tomb. It was a time when most people would think screams of pain coming from the seemingly endless agony of giving childbirth would echo across the never-ending plains on the winds. Yet, no such sounds were emitted from that little house. The mother, in her highly trained stoicism, uttered not a sound. It was not their way. She pushed and pushed, causing the little bundle in her womb to show its full head of blond hair, but how could that be? This child was not white! She was Indian! As the midwife tried to turn the baby�s head and body around to facilitate an easier birth, the child ducked back into its mother�s womb, angrily defying the woman who �dared to try to touch� it. Another midwife and an older medicine woman coaxed that little angry bundle of joy into the world.

It was late fall. November 19th of the year 1945, to be exact. This was a
special day, for it was the day that Ione Jean Smith, or �Jeannie�, thrust her way into the world with one purpose to her life�s mission. Her difficult and exciting journey was just beginning. She was the Healing Woman, though that was not her name. She was born, fat and chubby, with a full head of beautiful blond hair and had the sky blue eyes of her father, an Indian sailor fighting in the war. Yes, her father had blond hair and blue eyes and he was an Indian. Few people witnessed the birth of this little miracle for it is not the way of the Indians for anyone, but those assisting in the delivery, to be in the house. Everyone left. The child�s mother, Annie, was alone with only a few older women who had been trained to be midwives; a tradition handed down generation to generation as this was the Way of the Medicine. No father was there to lend his strength or mother to wipe her brow and offer comfort. Little Jeannie�s father knew of her existence, but no longer was with her mother, Annie, and the child grew up without ever really knowing anything about him. All she knew was his name was Aaron.

From the moment the Medicine Woman saw her, she knew that this child was �the One� to learn the Ways of the Medicine for she was out of the ordinary. She immediately took possession of the baby with no objections from the young mother. Annie didn�t protest the fact that the Medicine Woman took control of the child for it was her teaching that one does not question the Ways of the Medicine. It turned out that Annie�s milk production was very poor and a wet nurse had to be found so that little Jean could prosper and grow. In the meantime, the Medicine Woman spoon-fed milk to her granddaughter. You see, this Medicine Woman�s name was Nora and Annie was her niece, making Jean her grandniece, or granddaughter in the Indian Way. Her father�s mother, Elsie, helped with the financial aspect of childrearing and the child�s great grandmother, �Oo-tah-wea�, brought the child baby clothes, diapers and other things. Oo-tah-wea was not an Indian. She was a short firey woman with strawberry blonde hair and sky blue eyes and a captive of the Hidatsa tribe . She was Aaron�s grandmother. Having been captured as an infant, Oo-tah-wea never had an English name associated with her, only her Indian name.

One would think that in the mid-1940�s, all homes would have electricity, indoor water facilities and toilets, but that was in White America. On the reservation, it was quite a different story. No jobs, little or no money, depression and alcoholism all contributed to the plight of the American Indian. White America herded these proud people onto reservations and all but forgot that they even existed. In order for the government to keep the Indians oppressed, they were forced to be completely dependant upon the government for even the necessities of life and were treated like ignorant, errant children who must beg for everything that they got. This was the white man�s �divide and conquer tactics� and, unfortunately, it took its toll. Luxuries such as telephones, electricity, and indoor facilities were not incorporated into the American Dream for the Indians. It was a right only reserved for the whites. Reservations were treated like leper colonies - places to be avoided at all costs. Let the missionaries risk their lives to save the savage souls of that foreign land. They didn�t belong. They weren�t white. They weren�t even considered human, were they? Abject poverty was a way of life. Indians were born into it, lived through it and died because of it. Yet and still, they were not poor in spirit or tradition. Their needs were met and live could still be good.

Located in the Badlands of North Dakota, this is truly �God�s country� with it�s majestic canyons, rolling green hills, and breathtaking buttes scatter over the one million acre reservation. Apparently, the federal government thought that they were �getting one over on the Indians� by setting their reservation on rocky, hilly soil that couldn�t be used much for farming, thus improving their objective of oppressing the Indians. There are many �breaks�; mountain passes that sharply twist and turn between the buttes and canyons. Though beautiful to the eye, this land can be lethal. To this day, there are no guardrails to protect travelers from careening over the side of a mountain pass and fatally crashing at the bottom of a canyon. The white man doesn�t care. The legislators don�t care. These people are not part of the white society and are, therefore, highly expendable. So what if they die? �The only good Indian is a dead Indian� or so they say. Winters on the rez are a heartbreaking time. So many of the People die in car accidents, some due to alcohol, some due to icy weather conditions that lead to so many needless fatalities. Yet and still, Jean thrived and grew under the careful guidance of Grandma Nora.

Her training in the Ways of the Medicine began at her birth and progressed throughout her childhood. Grandma Nora had never had children of her own, much like her sisters, Sarah and Mary. All three of them were barren. Grandma Nora adopted Jean as her own, in the Indian Way, with no protest from any family member. Jean was the Chosen One. There was much worked to be done and lessons to learned. Being a Medicine Woman was not an easy task. As a toddler, Ione brought needed things to Grandma Nora and left them within arms reach. Grandma, while relatively healthy, was quite heavy, had rheumatoid arthritis and was forced to walk with the help of 2 canes. She was a semi-invalid, very sedentary and didn�t get around well. At the age of 3, Ione was taught the special ways to prepare ceremonial fires - an important part of every Medicine ceremony.

Still, Jean had a relatively normal childhood. She played outside with her homemade corncob dolls and a little wagon. She ran the hills around her grandma�s two-room house. She brought in wood with which to cook with and heat the home. Grandma Nora made a learning game out of picking the necessary medicinal herbs and roots by choosing how many of each thing the little one would pick, what direction that she would go and by teaching her the prayerful chants while doing this vital work. Her chants were sung in a monotonic melody. Her prayers were to the herbs and roots asking them to help the people tat they were administered to. She picked the healing sage, peppermint, spearmint, horsemint, wild mint, and sweet grass. She and Grandma Nora would dry these things in the wood burning stove, over the stove or, as in the case of the sweet grass, braided and placed outside on scaffolds in the winter. This was the Way of the Medicine. On a more secular plane, she hauled water from an artesian well and brought in coal and wood for the fires of the household.

Most transportation in her childhood was by horseback, horse drawn buggies or sleighs, in the winter. Supermarkets had not reached the reservations, so very little processed food was available to be purchased. Still, Jean was well fed on �Nature�s Diet�, such as: boiled beef, potatoes, turnips, dried beans, squash, corn, wild game, like; elk, deer, antelope, pheasant, quail, and prairie chicken, along with fish. Her vegetables were grown in Grandma�s own garden and male family members, along with her own sister, Sarah, provided the game. Though �only a woman�, Sarah had the reputation of being quite the huntress and Jean, to this day, remembers seeing her with her rifle, going hunting to feed the family. Amidst the poverty, was plenty of food, fresh air, and, most importantly, love. That is the kind of wealth that cannot be bought regardless of one�s sizeable or empty bank account.

When Jeannie was young, Mormon missionaries came out and stayed with the Indians, trying to convert them to the Church of Jesus of Latter Day Saints. When Grandma Nora called Jean by her Indian name, ah-gee-hee-dah-do-weeish (Returns to One�s Own). The Mormons couldn�t pronounced it, so they called her �Gee-Hee� for short. Grandma Nora would call her that to irritate her. This was Grandma�s way of teasing Jeannie and showing her love.

Indians wasted nothing when it came to food. Everything was used. Cow and Buffalo hides were used for clothing and to cover the sweat lodges and organ meats were considered delicacies. The only things that Jean was forbidden to eat were the animals� uteri. Medicine dictates that no woman of childbearing age may eat a uterus. Only women who are post-menopausal, no longer being able to bear children, are allowed to eat this organ.

In the Indian society, family is very important, regardless of whether they still reside among the living or in the Spirit World. All prayers are ended with �All My Relatives�, instead of the Christian �Amen�. It is very common when one Indian is introduced to another that one or both ask, �Who are your relatives?� There is a strict taboo against the marriages of closely related people, yet in the scheme of things, relations form a strong and intricate web within Indian society. Who are Jean�s relatives? There are so many!

The Caduceus of Two Lives

In the spring of 1981, Jean was expecting a visit from Patricia. She greeted her at the door upon her arrival and found someone else with her. Another mah-shee-wea, named Michele, had brought Hatty to the house, as she was blind and couldn�t drive. Jean invited them in and offered refreshments before settling down for a little bit of �girl talk�.

Before long, the conversation had turned to magick and Medicine. All three talked of different metaphysical things, both Indian and white. Hatty and Michele were witches and followed the Wiccan path. They discussed how some white people stole the information of the Way of the Medicine and used it for Sun Dances, sweat lodges, and other ceremonies, that they were not authorized to do. Some of these thieves were �New Agers� who felt that it was alright to steal the Indian ways and take them for themselves, believing that, combined with their magick, they would be more powerful. What they were never told was to combine the two disciplines could have some very deadly and explosive consequences. Had they known, it is doubtful that they would�ve heeded the warnings. People such as these have no scruples and, therefore, feel anything they can pilfer, they can use as their own. They spoke of Indian Medicine People who traveled the �Black Road� (bad medicine) for money, power and self-gratification. Jean spoke of Wally, an older white man, who did this very thing to bring himself power, money and women. He had quite a following and used his �celebrity� to serve him. He was married to a Creek woman, named Alice. Michele had a strange look on her face and told Jean, �I�m seeing something and am not sure who I am seeing.� Jean asked her to describe what she was visualizing. �A somewhat short woman, Indian, with wrinkled, weathered rather dark, reddish skin. She is wearing a buckskin dress with bead on it and pants made out of the same material. Her hair is gray, in long braids and she looks so mean! Who is this woman?� Without ever having met her, Michele described Alice to a tee. That began the link between the two woman that weathered the storms of life and attacks of others for 2 decades.

Michele was the young mother of two biracial sons and a victim of domestic violence. her self-esteem was sorely traumatized due to years of continual abuse. She had turned to Wicca to �gain control� of her life and walked out of a pulpit to do so. Because of the years of abuse, Michele had very inflexible ideas of how magick was to be used and to stray from that path would �condemn� her to horrible consequences, both metaphysically and mundanely. Her rigidity in her belief and way of doing things made her difficult to communicate with at times. Her own anger ran amuck and she wouldn�t listen. Jean understood this fact and did what she could to help Michele, but the girl was a �hardheaded mah-shee-wea�. She would argue against Jean�s sage advice and fuss, but Jean, being a well experienced equestrian, knew how to break down this filly�s defenses without doing severe emotional damage to her friend. It took, literally, years of patience and cajoling before this little �mustang� could be tamed and retrained in the ways of the Medicine. Now, Michele was never allowed at Sun Dances, to hold a sacred pipe, nor was she ever going to be a Medicine Woman. It was understood that white people don�t do these things. Some are allowed to be pipe holders and some even are invited to Sun Dances, but the position of a Medicine Person is deemed ONLY for an Indian that has been selected by the Spirits to learn those ways. Michele understood these conditions and never wanted to do anything but to be Jean�s friend and serve her as best she could.

She was content in standing next to Jeannie, neither Neither a step ahead nor a step behind. She always stood by her side. Sometimes, as a sign of submission and respect, she would sit at Jean�s feet and finally listen.

In the Ways of the Medicine, there are many dangers. Black Road Men and Women (bad medicine people who use medicine to harm others, rather than help them) often are jealous and petty. Jean was often the target of metaphysical attacks and Michele would willingly step in the way, so that the medicine would miss its intended mark. Sometimes, the damage was divided between Jean and Michele, lessening its effect by one half and making it more tolerable. Though strong in her own right, Michele was far from invincible and by �sharing� the attack, the women increased their closeness and their friendship.

Michele had never met Annie, Jean�s mother. Annie, a brittle diabetic, was hospitalized in North Dakota and Jean left Fort Worth, TX to help the woman who bore her, but never really knew. This was her mother, the woman who gave her life. This was her closest relative and her help and her medicine was needed. Michele would call Annie and explain to her the ways and reasoning of the white man�s medicine. She was a nurse and felt that if Annie understood why things were being done, that her fear and concern would subside, which it did. Annie accepted the friendship of her daughter and this unknown white woman. To reward Michele, Annie addressed her as �My girl�, meaning that she accepted her as her daughter. This was an unofficial adoption as a daughter by Annie. It made Michele cry when Jean explained this concept to her.

During the time that Annie was in the hospital, some of her own children, "took matters into their own hands� and hired a Sioux Medicine Man to �help� their mother in her passing, something that she was far from ready to do. This Black Road Man prayed over Annie, in private, and told the family that she was going to die! This is forbidden for a Medicine Person to do! In fact, no one should go around predicting other people�s death. It�s like signing their death warrant. Many Indians believe, and it has been proven in a way, that when a person is dying, that they can see many different spirits, including those loved ones who have passed on before who are coming to take them �home�. In Annie�s case, whatever that Medicine Man did, it caused her dying process to accelerate to the point that her death was imminent and she would complaint about �little beings� picking at her feet.

Jeannie and her eldest sister would sit on either side of Annie�s bed and hold hands over her head and around her waist, talking to her and praying. This was about the only time that Annie received a respite from the little beings bothering her and she would sleep. Jeannie and her sister would stay in the position for hours while their mother slept peacefully. As soon as the two girls would break their handhold for whatever reason, the little beings would wake Annie up and start annoying her again. She soon began to tell the girls that her Aunties were coming for her. The Aunties were Grandma Nora, Grandma Sarah, and Grandma Mary.

One bright Alabama afternoon, Michele received a phone call from Jean. This concerned her to hear her friend�s voice over the phone. Jean rarely made long distance phone calls and had called to tell Michele that Annie had passed away. She was distraught and tense, another thing Michele had never seen in her friend. This upset Michele and she asked Jean if she wanted her to come to North Dakota. Now, Michele, was in nursing school to become an RN, but family came first. She left her young sons with her boyfriend, borrowed the bus fare for the three day trip to North Dakota, and set off with a horrible case of the flu and a 103-degree fever.

The trip was grueling for her, but she was determined to make it! Jean needed her and it was her duty and privilege to be there for her sister, for that is what they had become over the years. She arrived in Dickinson, ND and waited for 4 hours for Jean to arrive and take her the 125 miles back to the reservation.

Upon arriving, Michele felt so many strange feelings. Fear, excitement, grief, uncertainty and a weird and wonderful feeling of familiarity to the land. She called it �deja vu�. She knew where things were and could recognize them when she saw them. She assisted the family by babysitting their children and cooking in preparation for the feast that followed the funeral proceedings. There were beef to be killed and cooked, a job that the men of the family assumed. Massive amounts of pies, cakes, cookies, potato salad, macaroni salad, �hot dishes� (similar to chili mac), macaroni and cheese dishes, and more to feed the people that had come to honor Annie and pay their respects one last time. Jean and her step-father, Allen Wicker or �Pubba�, as he was affectionately called by his children, had to make funeral arrangements and get together Pendleton blankets (highly regarded and expensive soft woolen blankets), handmade star quilts and shawls, and other things that needed to be bought and gathered. They had to apply to the Tribe for a funeral loan to partially cover the funeral home expenses and buy the food and giveaway items. The Giveaway is a very unique event in Indian Country. Where non-Indian people bring food to the grieving family, the Feast is utilized to honor others for a variety of reasons. Giveaways occur at powwows, funerals, water buster dances, and a variety of other public ceremonies. To receive something at a Giveaway is a deep honor. The family hosting the Giveaway is publicly acknowledging the recipients for something they have done and showing the family�s appreciation.

Giveaways can last hours. In the case of Annie�s last Giveaway, it lasted quite some time. Elders were honored. Family and clan members were recognized and organizations that helped Annie or that Annie felt were important were all recipients of the Giveaway. Annie�s Giveaway was done after her funeral and burial at the Feast which was held at the Mandaree Community Center. Her wake was there also, but Michele didn�t attend it. She watched the children and continued to cook and make sure that they family, especially Pubba, also a diabetic, ate balanced and nutritional meals even if she had to beg and cajole them to eat. Family members of the deceased sit and protect the body for the entire day and night preceding the funeral. They accept the condolences and offers of love and concern from the community and talk about the life of their lost loved one. When it was time to transport Annie�s body from the wake to the funeral mass, a long line of mourners followed the hearse and filed quietly into the tiny Catholic Church to hear Father Steven Kranowski offer Mass for Annie for the last time. When the Mass had concluded, Annie was taken back to the private family cemetery for burial. When she was laid to rest next to her father, Chester Long Tail, her nephews who were traditional drummers began singing some of her favorite traditional songs. Her sister, Bernice, would let out a trilling cry meaning �more� and they would continue to sing for Annie. Pubba had a tear run down his weathered cheek and others cried.

Michele had not experienced death before and fought to remain stoic until Jean let out such a piercing, agonizing cry and wept without shame for the mother who bore her and who never really knew her till the end of her life. Jean�s husband, John, held her and Michele went to her and the three held each other and cried. There are very few times that an Indian will cry in public, but when one loses one�s parent or child or grandmother, it is accepted, expected and encouraged helping the healing in the grief process.

Everyone returned to the Community Center for the feast and the Giveaway.
Boxes were given to all of the people who sat around the perimeter of the large meeting room where the wake was held, sitting in chairs two deep. Plates for food were also given and it is tradition that every ounce of food is given away to feed the mourners, all at the expense and labor of the grieving family. Michele helped pass the food out and the giveaway began.

She was passing out a yellow cake with pink icing to a man when she heard her name over the public address system and nearly allowed that poor man to wear it! �That�s me!�, she exclaimed. She was so shocked to hear them call her that she couldn�t move and the man, in his kindness, took the cake out of her hands and gently told her to go up to the front, that the family had something for her. She started trembling and walked to Jeannie who handed her a star quilt made of brown, white and a soft yellow material and a sky blue shawl that match the blue of her own eyes. She accepted them humbly, with tears in her eyes and ran out the back door to a private place where no one could see her to cry like a baby. She didn�t cry for Annie. She had switched into what she called her �nurse mode� to control that, but still didn�t feel grief for Annie�s loss. Her own father had told her, �We don�t cry for those who have died. We cry for ourselves.� She didn�t cry for herself, though, she wept tears of sorrow for her sister�s agony and tears of joy for her sister�s love and acceptance through the gift of the quilt and the shawl. This act of the gifts was Jean�s way of telling the People that Michele was special to her and to accept her even if she was white. At the very thought of it, Michele�s sobs became heart wrenching moans until the emotion was spent and her tears dried up. She wiped her eyes, washed her face in cold water and returned to finish helping with the feast and the clean up afterward.

When the clean up of the Community Center was completed, everyone returned to Pubba�s house. The men talked. The children played and the women cooked dinner. When dinner was done, the men and children were fed, while the women made themselves plates of food and ate standing up in the kitchen. Although, the Mandans and Hidatsa tribes are actually matriarchal in nature, the women make it so that the men are respected and taken care of first, a show of submission, in a way. It is a silent way of showing the men of the family respect and �saving face�, so as to speak. Towards the end of the evening, around 7 or 8 p.m., Jean told Michele that it was time to go back to her mother in law�s house for the night. Michele knelt down at Pubba�s feet and put her hand over his. She told him, �Daddy, I have to go now, but I will see you in the morning, OK?� The sad old man patted her hand and quietly told her, �OK.� She kissed the top of his head and left to go to bed. The day had been a rough one for everybody and she and Jean were no exceptions. A knock at the door early the next morning awakened everyone. It was Jean�s younger brother, Louie.

�The old man is gone!�, he exclaimed. The entire house asked him to repeat what he said, not wanting to believe his words or the thoughts of what they meant.

�He got up about 7 this morning and used the restroom. He told Nora (Jean�s sister) that he was going to lie back down for a while. When we went to check on him, he was gone!� Pubba was dead!!!

There was no time for tears. There was yet another funeral to be taken care of. Pubba had willed himself to die as Annie was his love and his life and he couldn�t bear to go on without her. Pubba had gone to be with her. Jean was orphaned once again. Yet, she was not alone. Her husband, children, siblings, extended family and Michele were all at her side.

Michele had to return home to her boys and her life, but something kept bothering her. Annie had been buried on Maundy Thursdays and Pubba died on Good Friday morning. By May, Michele decided that her sister needed her help once again. Jean�s sister�s, one in particular, was giving her a lot of problems over her mother�s and step-father�s estates, which were rather sizeable and she was living up in North Dakota, virtually alone. In June of 1986, Michele packed up her children and what little belongings she had and moved on to the reservation, staying in Grandma Nora�s house, the house that Jean grew up in and inherited from her.