Details

Storyteller: Jennifer
Tribe: Fond du Lac Band of Ojibwe
Created: 2018
Location: Minneapolis, MN
Transcript: My name is Jennifer Graff. I am the youngest daughter and second youngest child in a family of seven surviving children. My mother had 9 children in seven years. Two of the 9 (2 of the quadruplets; Catherine and Craig) didn't survive. She had 7 children in 3 years. By September of 1968 she had 7 children under the age of 8 to care for. Martin (Marty) 8/1961; the twins, Joel/Jill 1/1963; the surviving quads, Chris/Crystal 1/1964; Jennifer (myself) 11/1966; and Michael (Mick) 9/1968. I am proud of being part of a large family. It makes getting together, the few times that we can, more meaningful and memorable.

My mother is one of 11 children who grew up in Superior WI. While growing up she and her siblings were told to say that they were French Canadian. They were NEVER to say that they were Native. My parents were married in April of 1961. Soon after marriage they moved to Kenosha WI for work. After having been 10 years away from family, they moved back up north. They found a big house to shelter us all in Duluth MN. My mom started going to school for nursing and was able to graduate as an LPN. She would go on to further her schooling in Drug and Alcohol Counseling. It was during this time that she was learning more about herself and her long denied culture. We, her children, began to attend Indian Club at Lincoln Elementary & Lincoln Jr HS. I still remember a few of the Ojibwe words pronunciations and meaning.

My great grandmother would speak Ojibwe to my mom when she was little and out of ear-shot of her mother. My Grandmother was very true to her Catholic faith. She told her mother, "never speak that language in my house," which left an impression on my mother who witnessed it. My mom left my dad, she says, but we didn't go with her, in 1979. It was, in my opinion, a continued version of historical trauma to our family. I know that she grew up in an alcoholic family and married an alcoholic. I often think of and relate to the beginning of the movie Smoke Signals and I relate that to my upbringing. By learning about herself while attending college, she learned that she was a valued and valuable person. Not just a mother. Not just a wife. Not just a sister or daughter, but her own person. I believe that this is fall-out from generational historical trauma. My great grand parents, my great grandmother for sure, was a victim of the St Mary's boarding school, Bad River Reservation, Ashland WI. Only now, as an adult do I know that my relatives talk about our culture. My mother moved back to the Duluth/Superior area after long time partner, John Losh, walked on. Since she has been back and living on the Fond du Lac Reservation, all of her 10, still living, siblings, children and many nieces and nephews as well has her grand children and now great grand children are what take up her time. That is, when she isn't exercising every other day or sitting on the many boards that she is involved with (adoption, school board, elder concerns, clinic board, and Indian Legal to name a few). I feel that with the colonial upbringing that I had and the life-long interest in Native culture that I was robbed of knowing that I, and subsequently my child, are more victims of the continued historical trauma that Natives are perpetually living with and learning to breath without the spiked collar of Manifest Destiny choking out Native existence. I feel that I have to explain myself by my self identifying as Native.

My great grandfather, Edward Smith, was the Captain of the America on Lake Superior. The America was the only way to get mail, supplies, passengers and the like to the North and South Shores of Lake Superior when there were no roads to do so. Even after there were roads, the America was the fastest way to get mail and supplies. My family has a story about Edward Smith. It is said that he had to renounce his Native-ness to work for the Federal government, to captain the America; as Natives didn't become citizens until 1924 and I believe he was Captaining the ship for at least 10 years prior. Due to that story my grandmother; her children, including my mother and her siblings; me and my siblings and cousins as well as my child, nieces and nephews, and so on would only be able to use the lineage of our maternal line for cultural identity. This in effect is the eradication of native peoples. Once my mother walks on my siblings and I will have no direct blood connection to any affiliated Band of Ojibwe. My mother has given us the label of "Throw-away Children," due to the BIA regulations imposed on the Anishinabe. In that same vein, my great grandfather was given his 80 acres with a document signed by then president, Grover Cleveland in 1893 but due to having to renounce his native status, again, to work for the federal government, his ownership was revoked. This domino affect is long and far reaching.

I have attended powwow's which are always a teaching and learning moment. My mother has more of a learn-as-you-go philosophy in giving information about our culture, but if she is asked, she will impart her knowledge freely. She says to those of us who have not been to see the monument of Crazy Horse that we should go. This along with a Sundance will be a spiritual journey for me. I feel as though I need to be a part of this particular celebration.

Duluth MN is where I first learned about my culture. In small ways we were shown things; when we gathered with our relatives (which was often) or went out in the woods with uncles and grandpa; in the way that we honored a member who passed or a birth of a newborn; even with graduations and military enlistments. My culture was beginning to show itself to me.

Minneapolis MN is where I now reside and have done so since the birth of my son 30 years ago. While here, I have improved upon the ability to learn more about my culture and in the process have been able to share these moments with my child and will with his as yet unborn children. It is this purpose, in part, as to why I am eager to be a part of sharing my story. Being an oral culture, it is easy to hear the stories of our ancestors and enjoy the gatherings to do so. But this project has created the ability to preserve and perhaps maintain the ideology of it at the same time.