Native American Childhood Essay

I am a fifty eight year old white native American woman, and the middle child of three. I have an older sister, by fifteen months, and a brother who is three years younger than I am. I should probably mention that my dad was not around when I was born. My parents raised our family of five in Port Huron, Michigan. I am a member of the Baby Boomer generation. As an American, we traditionally are passionate about baseball, hotdogs, apple pie, and lemonade, but being an American means much more to me. In America, we emphasize family, faith, and civil rights. We live in the “land of the free and the home of brave.” (Smith & Key, 1814) According to our history, the colonists came here to get out from under the dominance of the British government, …show more content…
My dad was a machinist by trade as well as being a “Jack of All Trades.” I would say that I was raised in a middle, Middle Class family. I started elementary school at Lakeport Elementary; spent fifth grade in a three-room schoolhouse called Gardendale Elementary, went through sixth through eighth grade at Fort Gratiot Elementary, and graduated from Port Huron Northern High School. The thing I liked the most about school was that I got away from home. My home life was tumultuous at best, so school was a welcome escape where I could forget about it and be with my friends. Until of course, my school counselor Mrs. Moorehead started getting on my case for missing school. I never was much for skipping school, but I stayed out of school a lot to take care of my mom who had a plethora of physical and mental ill …show more content…
In kindergarten, I had a friend who was black. It did not matter to me that she was a different color. My family never emphasized a difference between races. What is interesting is when she fell and scraped her knee I could not believe that she was pink on the inside. I guess I thought since I was “pink” on the inside and outside, that she would be brown on the inside. My earliest awareness of my sex is when my sister and I, and our two boy cousins became curious about the differences between boys and girls. We established that we all preferred the opposite sex and exchanged little kisses. It was all very sweet and innocent. We were probably around eight or ten. I do not think I ever learned what religion we were or, that it even made a difference until I was in high school and met a girl who was Lutheran. We became fast friends, but began debating differences in our faith at the lunch table. We ultimately decided that we should just be friends and not debate the topic any longer. We are still friends to this day. My parents never emphasized a difference in faith. Really, the only two religions I was aware of were protestant Christianity and Catholicism. Interestingly enough, I did not realize that Catholics were Christians until a friend of mine pointed it out to me several years ago. I think I grew up in a bubble of sorts. I do not recall my parents being judgmental of anyone because of race