Growing up, the word "indian" would bring to mind an image of a strong profile against a western sky. It would make me think of a beautiful woman with her hair in braids making a meal by an open fire. It would make me think of children running about in moccasins and beaded leather clothing. It would bring to mind strong athletic men running and shooting arrows to bring home their supper. I would think of a strong group of people who had withstood the difficult life of the frontier. Every thing about the word indian was positive in my mind.
I was in my late twenties on a company trip to Arizona when I met the first person I knew to be a native American. I have not known many people who are native Americans.
It is hard for me to grasp why all this is happening. I really do not think it is doing anybody much good.
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It is better to laugh than to cry.
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