Details

Storyteller: Gabrielle
Tribe: Red Cliff Band of Lake Superior Chippewa
Created: 2018
Location: Minneapolis, MN
Transcript: Growing up in a mixed Ojibwe and White home, I was constantly learning to balance my cultures. My father is Ojibwe from Red Cliff, Wisconsin, and my mother is Dutch. We spent the first few years of my childhood living in Cottage Grove, Minnesota, and visited Red Cliff to see my family whenever we could. I spent a lot of time with my older brother. We spent time playing, dancing, singing, and our home was filled with a lot of love, but it was filled with a lot of struggle too. Both my parents had to work multiple jobs to keep our house. They fought a lot, and my father started using substances. Eventually, my parents split up, and my brother and I had to move back and forth between Red Cliff and Chisago City, Minnesota. For all these reasons, learning to balance my cultures was difficult, and I had no idea how to combine the two. I felt like no one else had this problem, and I didn’t know what to do. What I did know, were the values that my father taught me. While growing up, whenever my father wanted to teach us things, he would ask us "Do you want to take a walk?" And we would go outside in the forest in Red Cliff. We would jump over trees and look at different plants. He would explain to us what it meant to be bear clan. One plant he always told us about was called a bear fern. It was made from the footprints of black bears – wherever they step, a new fern grows. When the black bear walks around the forest, the plant goes where they do. The plant is supposed to guide us, remind us of our relatives, and show us that they are watching over us. When we see the fern, we say thank you, and we think of those spirits who are protecting us.

Even though my grandma didn't take part in these walks, she also taught me how to appreciate nature and the place we call home. She had a raspberry patch, and during the summer she would take me and my brother to go picking. I would walk around drenched in sweat from the hot summer weather, balancing a bowl bigger than my body in one arm, reaching for the berries with the other. My hands were rubbed raw from the thorns. My fingers are still stained red. We would go home, and sit in the kitchen and help her make raspberry pie. She would explain to us the importance of these berries, and how they feed us and the bears. We would always save some berries on the bush for our relatives. Even today when we go outside during raspberry season she says "Be careful. Watch for the black bears. They are out now that it is raspberry season to fill up their tummies like you guys do. Look out for their ferns. Remember their spirits, and they will guide you. Especially during this time of year." Now I think of my full belly and my red fingertips whenever I see a black bear fern. I think of my family. Of my relatives. I feel them. Even if I am not on the reservation.

Looking back, these walks are really what influenced my growth and journey in understanding my culture. I became the person I am today because of those teachings and values, and experience with nature. It is where my father taught us what it meant to be bear clan. What it meant to be Ojibwe. It is where he told us about the struggles we are going to face. The problem was is that my mom did not understand. In many ways, she didn't even try. In the end, I think that what separated my family was this misunderstanding between cultures, and the substances my dad used to try and escape it. It was hard to have two different parents with completely different values. It is something that I am still working to understand, and my relationship with my culture is constantly changing. I don't have everything figured out, but I know what I feel, and I know that these teachings need to be remembered. Remembering my relatives and these moments of my life make me feel at home. They make me feel connected with my family. They make me feel connected with the Creator. I need to teach my new relatives the same.

After coming to the University, I really started to understand how much these teachings meant to me, because I did not have access to many of the plants I was taught about. I couldn’t go on walks through the forest. The trees didn’t look the same. There was no Gichigami. I couldn't even look at the stars. I felt lost, but the Native community at the University of Minnesota has helped me feel a little bit more at home. I have learned that I need to tell these stories, and share these teachings because it is part of who I am. Looking through my pictures, I couldn’t find any of these walks from when we were outside, but when I asked my dad why, he told me that these teachings were never meant to be seen. They are meant to be felt and heard. I became the person I am today because of these teachings, because of the struggle I had to go through when I was trying to balance both of my family’s values, and because of the community I found here at the University – even if there are no black bear ferns.