Sisters in the Wind(103)
A gust of wind rustles the trees. Maple and birch leaves flutter like confetti.
“I’m glad you showed me this spot. It’s incredible.”
“That’s not the only reason I brought you here.” She motions toward her SUV. “There’s a tin canister in the back. Can you get it?”
I do as she asks. Then she leads me toward the water.
“Jamie wanted his ashes in two places. After I have the baby, I’ll go to where his mom is buried. But I wanted you to honor his wishes here.” She looks to me and then to the water.
I remember the extra tobacco bundle in my pocket from yesterday. I make an offering of semaa before opening the canister and pouring Jamie’s ashes into the river. Some land on the concrete breakwater.
“Miigwech,” I say, trying not to cry. Then I hear Miss Lonnie’s voice echo. And I decide not to fight the sad. I cry for Jamie. If not for him, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have Luke with me. I might not have made my way back to Maggie. I might still be crawling through the ash, struggling to breathe fresh air.
Daunis sits with me on the breakwall. After I’ve dried my tears, she holds out her hand. I reach to grasp it until I realize she’s handing me something.
Jamie’s watch.
I stare at it in my palm. The white gold watch with the black leather band. The dual time zones are set to Eastern Standard Time. Daunis changed the bottom clock to match.
“Wherever you are in the world, Raven Air Woman, you’ll always know the time back home,” she says, using my Spirit name. Gaagaagi Noodin Kwe.
“Miigwech,” I reply, barely above a whisper. My wrist has felt naked without my dad’s watch. I gave it to Maggie yesterday at my naming ceremony after she recognized it as a gift she had given my dad.
Even though Jamie was only twenty-seven years old, he had a will. Maybe it was the experience of helping his mother prepare for her death that prompted Jamie to put things in writing. Or having worked in law enforcement, a dangerous job. His friend Connor specialized in elder law, which involved drawing up wills and trusts.
Daunis and I met Connor at the memorial service and, afterward, at the reading of Jamie’s will. Connor served as the executor of Jamie’s estate. Estate sounds grand. Really it just meant that Connor was responsible for carrying out his friend’s final wishes.
Jamie looked out for Hazel White Hawk and the two full-time project managers so that Raven Air Associates could continue. As for his personal belongings, it wasn’t at all surprising that he bequeathed nearly everything to Daunis. Maybe he wanted her to know as much about him as possible. To share all the details that he couldn’t reveal during his undercover assignment.
I didn’t think much about the request to attend the reading of Jamie’s will. I figured he would’ve wanted me to be there to provide emotional support for Daunis. As I sat with Daunis, holding her hand, I didn’t expect Connor to mention my name.
John Brian Jameson had amended his will to name me as the sole beneficiary of a life insurance policy. The amendment had been notarized, making it official, on January 8—the day he asked me to take my midmorning break at the diner. He hadn’t known me then, only that I was Lily’s sister. And he had a chance to help me in a way he couldn’t help her.
In addition to the life-changing money, Jamie left me another gift. It came in the form of a package from Hazel White Hawk. I recognized the files immediately. All the testimonies about why the Indian Child Welfare Act is so important. Why it matters for social services and court personnel to follow the law. So we can have fewer stories like mine and more like Gimiwan’s. Stories that need to be shared. A book to be published. Someday.
As Granny June would say:
AHO
AUTHOR’S NOTE
An Indian tribe cannot survive without future generations; therefore, Indian children are a tribe’s most precious resource. But there are other resources that some non-Natives deem even more valuable. I wrote Sisters in the Wind because the Indian Child Welfare Act, or ICWA, is under attack and—SPOILER ALERT—the battle has nothing to do with the best interests of Indian children.
Before ICWA, Indian children were taken from their homes and adopted or fostered out to non-Indian homes. Their parents and community had no ability to fight back when non-Native social workers and church representatives came for their kids. The goal of ICWA was to preserve Indian families. Who could oppose this worthy goal?
Here is the key: ICWA reaffirmed tribal sovereignty—the inherent right of a tribe to make decisions about its citizens and those eligible to become enrolled citizens. It recognized tribal authority in handling Indian child-custody cases and established federal requirements for states to follow regarding Indian child removal and placement. In effect, the federal law placed tribal sovereignty above state authority.
At the core, these legal challenges are about extinguishing tribal sovereignty under the pretense of asserting states’ rights and by using non-Native adoptive families as emotional pawns. Those against ICWA do not care about Indian children, because the law, when properly followed, has worked. So why seek to overturn a law that has been effective in keeping Indian children connected to their families and communities?
The end game has always been power. Those opposed to ICWA are not fighting for Indian children’s best interests but, rather, to extinguish tribal sovereignty. These individuals and their well-funded organizations desire valuable minerals and other natural resources on land owned by Native American tribes. Wars are fought for control over resources such as fossil fuels and, more recently, rare earth materials necessary for technology that will be used by people (commercial applications) and against people (defense applications). These resources are located across the earth, including beneath land owned by Indian tribes who have retained rights to minerals and other natural resources.