It had been a long drive for Dan and he was tired. Although he had been driving for only two days, his odyssey began a while ago. Dissatisfied with his life, his work, and his inner being, he knew he needed a change. He had always wanted to get back to his roots, his origins, and he could hear the distant drums beating within his soul. He knew his Native land was calling him home.
Dan did research in the library and on the internet and came upon a small Shawnee reservation near Midwest City and Shawnee, Oklahoma. He sent a long letter to the Tribal Council and petitioned for a visitation pass. He detailed his life, his Shawnee heritage, and his need to find answers within himself about the problems he was having. He was very gracious and courteous with his letter and he hoped and prayed they would be favorable to him coming. A few weeks later, his wish was granted. He immediately felt a warm peace come over him, a peace that he always felt whenever he read about the Shawnee and their way of life.
Although he was only 1/8 Native, most people could tell Dan had Indian blood coursing through his veins. His black glossy hair, high cheekbones, dark brown eyes, and his perpetually tanned skin gave him away easily. His grandfather had been adopted by northern Ohio farmers named Rieger when he was a toddler. They didn't know much about his parentage other than he was born out of wedlock to a Shawnee mother and a foreign father. Unable to face the shame of the elders, she left the infant in the care of the state. Nothing was heard of her again.
Dan's affinity with Indians began at a young age. Whenever a western show or movie was on TV, he would root for the Indians and would be sad whenever they lost. He read as much as he could about the history of the Shawnee Nation and it's heroes: Tecumseh, Blue Jacket, and Cornstalk among others. Trying to keep some kind of tie with his origins, Dan's grandfather affectionately called him "Screaming Turtle". Shawnees are named after a significant incident upon their birth or a characteristic they possessed. The first time his grandfather saw him, Dan was an infant and having his diaper changed. He was on his back, kicking, yelling, and very upset. Dan reminded his grandfather of a turtle who had been flipped, hence the name.
Now, Screaming Turtle was going home. Going home to what, he didn't know. He had asked for and received vacation time for his trip and he was grateful for the time off. His syllabus was up to date and he made sure it was easy to follow for the substitute. He couldn't remember exactly when he started to dislike teaching, whether it was when his marriage failed miserably, or when the incident in the parking lot occurred. The two seemed to go hand in hand, the one following the other.
It had been a year ago when he came upon the circle of students who were watching the fight. After he pushed his way through the ring, he told them both to stop. They did, but one of them pulled out a knife. Scared out of his wits, but feeling the need and responsibility to protect the other students, Dan stood his ground and tried to talk the student into dropping the weapon. The student didn't listen and took an awkward swipe at him. Dan dodged the assault and was able to dislodge the knife with the help of other teachers. Unfortunately, while doing so, Dan accidently broke the student's wrist and one of his fingers.
Falling to the pressure of the parents of the injured student, the superintendent suspended Dan for three days for excessive force. Although urged by friends and family to fight the suspension and to sue the student for attempted assault, Dan instead chose to close up within himself and not fight. He was crushed by the decision of the superintendent and could not understand why his employers would do that to him.
Dan was never one to communicate well outside of the classroom, so when he cut himself off, he only made his already rocky marriage worse. No matter how hard she tried, his former wife couldn't get him out of his silent, sullen state. To her credit, she tried very hard to keep the marriage going. And then she stopped trying.
Teaching was nothing like he thought it would be. Dan was finding the blank stares, the lack of interest, and the underlying insolence of the students disconcerting. He was disheartened by the fact that he was burnt out after only four years. He was lost, confused, and out of focus. It was then that he began to long for a simpler life. He bought CD's of Native music, taking in the life and spirit of the flutes and drums. He felt relaxed and at peace whenever he listened, losing himself and imagining that he was sitting at a fire, listening to a Chief telling a story about a great war or hunt. He was drawn closer and closer to that image.
He didn't know what he expected to find once he arrived. Dan knew he was restless and he desperately wanted to regain the love of teaching he had when he graduated from college. He wanted to find an inner peace within himself that would last all of the time, not just when he listened to music.
Dan arrived late on a Sunday afternoon at the reservation and was greeted by a large, burly, and gruff officer at the entrance.
"Papers," he said as a greeting, wary of any stranger who wanted to enter their land, no matter how Native he looked.
Dan handed him all of his paperwork; the letter from Blackhawk, the elder of the council, papers proclaiming his Shawnee heritage, birth certificate, ID cards and other miscellaneous items.
The deputy looked at each piece carefully, studying them for authenticity and glancing at Dan from time to time. He had been expecting the visitor, but he still wanted to make sure of his identity. You just never knew who might try to enter their land without permission. After a few minutes, the deputy handed everything back to Dan and smiled thinly.
"You are welcome because Blackhawk welcomes you. I welcome you because you are a brother in blood." He extended his hand to Dan through the car window and Dan took it. His grip was amazingly strong and Dan grimaced a bit. "I am Snow Wolf, also known as Chris. I will have another deputy lead you to Blackhawk's house. I hope that you will enjoy your stay."
"I know I will," Dan replied.
He followed a red jeep driven by the other deputy through the winding roads of the reservation. There were many small houses scattered about, along with varying sizes of apartment buildings. Dan saw several small school buildings, some old and dilapidated, while others seemed newer. He passed the government center, several stores, and many fields of crops. After almost a half hour of driving, they stopped in front of a medium sized house, a one story brick structure.
The deputy got out, strode to the door and knocked. Dan got out of his car as well, but hung back. A middle-aged man dressed in sandals, blue jeans, and a blue denim shirt answered. His long, black hair was pulled back in a ponytail and hung down to the small of his back. The deputy left quickly and Dan didn't get a chance to thank him. The long-haired man beckoned Dan to come forward.
"Please come in, Dan," he said in a soft, almost melodic voice. Dan came to him and followed Blackhawk into his house. It's walls were covered with pictures, posters, and paintings of his family and his heritage. Dan's nervousness evaporated quickly, immediately at ease in the presence of Blackhawk.
"Can I get you some water? Tea?" Blackhawk asked.
"No, thank you," Dan replied as he continued to look around the room.
"My family interests you," Blackhawk remarked, studying his young visitor.
"I've always been fascinated with the Shawnee and their lives."
"So you said in your correspondence," Blackhawk said. "You intrigued me with your desire to find a simpler life for yourself. I cannot offer such a life for you. Our people struggle everyday and work hard to maintain the life they have. We are not a sanctuary for people who struggle outside this reservation." Blackhawk's eyes narrowed slightly.
He then looked at Dan thoughtfully. "Have a seat," he said, indicating the sofa behind him. Dan sat down as instructed and Blackhawk took a chair in front of him.
