Native American Culture and Sherman Alexie

"When Your Hands Are Tied" is an illuminating documentary. You can watch it for free here. Native Americans appear to have a particularly hard time accepting and finding pride in their own culture. In American media, they have either been portrayed as a backwards savage, their society inferior to the foreign European one, and conversely, as a noble savage, representing idealism in nature. For a Native, I imagine, this can be a heavy burden to bear. I cannot speak for an Indian, but what I can do is speak for myself. All of us have to "walk in two worlds". Most of us come from an isolated family unit which has its own tiny culture. Families have their own language, their own ways of doing things, of eating, sleeping, and communicating, so when we are thrust into the greater American society, we have to decide what we want to keep and what we want to get rid of. The transition can be greater for others—the more alien the culture, the harder it is to adapt to a new one. However, if a person breaks down and decides they are incapable of conforming or don't want to, they often resort to drugs and alcohol. This is especially true for natives. Many of the actions people take are a result of rejecting the world around them. It can seem unfair, pointless, and impossible. Thus, people break into communities—be they healthy or no.

There is a greater tension here—one between society and the individual, or this case the greater culture versus the minority culture. The documentary was trying to give natives a positive way of dealing with this social dilemma. Instead of going down a bad path, they can learn how to dance, to sing, to paint, and to skate. Many of these are done in a modern way: rapping, doing a hip hop dance, and skating. This is a healthy flow, one that allows “two worlds” to come together. I think often, the Indian culture is so foreign to the greater American one that young natives feel left out. There only choice is to convert or stay on the reservation (the place they grew up and where everyone they know lives). It is the same tension that The House on Mango Street had. How do you leave these people behind? Do you have to abandon where you came from? The answer the documentary gives is "no". You have to learn how to walk "two worlds", much in the same vein that Gloria Anzaldua advocates. However, you can't do this if your own "world" is being eliminated. This is one of most important things the movie discusses: the carrying on of the culture so it continues into the future. I was reading Joseph Campbell's "The Power of Myth". He explained that in today's America, we lack initiation rituals. A boy or girl doesn't know when they are supposed to become a man or woman. We have to discover when and how to do this on our own. The proliferation of sitcoms with childlike men confuses me. We really lack strong male figures in our media; instead, I think, most children have to discover their roles through movie plot lines. I suppose this is okay, but I am not sure if I am comfortable with children learning how to be adults from multi-national corporations. That's why I am impressed with the Navajo culture overtly telling the little girl that she is now an adult. That's powerful, and it is something the greater society could learn. It is also a good way to bring together a community, to let it grow and flourish for another generation.

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian is also a story of a native boy "walking in two worlds". Arnold, like Esperanza, has the ability to leave the slums in which he grew up, but he also shares the guilt of deserting the ones he loves. This guilt is symbolized with the character of Rowdy, "the toughest kid on the rez". The final pages of the book show Rowdy and Arnold playing a game of basketball. Arnold thinks, "I hoped and prayed that they would someday forgive me for leaving them. I hoped and prayed that I would someday forgive myself for leaving them" (Alexie 230). Rowdy tells the skinny kid to stop blubbering. (It's almost as if Sherman self-directed this line at himself.) Arnold realizes he does have to leave if he wants a better life, but he also bares the guilt of losing his sister to a fire (he blames himself). Arnold was born with water on the brain. Water is always flowing, always moving to a new location. "I always knew you were going to leave. I always knew you were going to leave us behind and travel the world" Rowdy tells Arnold (Alexie 229). I think Alexie, like When Your Hands Are Tied, condones this nomadic American Dream, but at the same time reminds us not to forget where we came from. It's never easy curtailing to the greater culture. And this book should almost be read as a guide to doing it. You have to get out of your safe environment to grow as a person. You have to experience new things and places. You have to use this societal monkey on your back in healthy ways, don't go down dead end paths, learn to be greater than the circumstances you think would allow. Strive for more, that's the American dream right there.

At a certain level, yes I think the Indian culture is suppressed. As is Chinese culture, Sufi culture, Hispanic culture--it's not because we necessarily dislike those people, it's because, in general, people are adverse to what's different than them. I don't forgive natives for being lethargic either. It's just a tough system. The American Dream itself may be a corrupting factor. It creates unhealthy goals in a young person's life which can never be met. This leads to withdrawal, and it's worse in some communities because it's even harder to obtain in the first place. You're never going to be a beautiful blond walking down the red carpet with a hunka-hunka-burning-love on your elbow. You're never going to an action hero beloved by a generation of women. I am reminded of that famous Fight Club quote,

God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. (Fight Club)

A healthy culture would have had an elder sit a young Esperanza or Arnold down and have told them, in so many words: “hey, you like to write? Then you write because you are good at it and that's beautiful. Art for art's sake and all that jazz.” But our culture makes us all become whores. We sell ourselves out. The Joker says in The Dark Knight, "If you're good at something don't do it for free." I love capitalism. I love our Republic's Constitution. What I don't love is the fame worship American Dream. "Lift yourself up by your own boot straps and make something of yourself" is what we are told. Never, "be who you are, it doesn't matter if you are renowned across the ages." Do the things which make you happy. Some of it may tough, but in the end, you know who are, and that's peace. Not this constant chasing after tail which can never be caught.

Samuel Beckett said we are always waiting for something which never arrives. I think that's the difference between someone like Arnold and just another kid on the rez--he has chosen not to fully assimilate to the idea of the American Dream nor has he decided to stay on the reservation. He is walking "two worlds". To repeat my last line: "Do the things which make you happy. Some of it may tough, but in the end, you know who are, and that's peace. Not this constant chasing after a tail which can never be caught." I know it's pretentious to quote myself, but I don't know any other way. The power which both Esperanza and Arnold have is what Anzaldua illuminates--they are aware of both worlds, therefore they can pull themselves back from either. The American Dream can become unhealthy only if you buy into it hook, line, and sinker. If you are aware of it, it can't hurt you. You can protect yourself against it.

In the end, I see the American Dream as just a retelling of Joseph Campbell's monomyth. We progress, beating back metaphorical monsters, until we arrive at a happy ending.

"A hero ventures forth from the world of common day into a region of supernatural wonder: fabulous forces are there encountered and a decisive victory is won: the hero comes back from this mysterious adventure with the power to bestow boons on his fellow man."

However, I think this overall myth has been corrupted, and fame has been made the metaphorical end of the journey. Look at our fame-whore reality shows; look at our movies which end before they should. I have written about how celebrities today are seen almost as gods. They are projections of a particular zeitgeist of the age, but we wish to be like them, to obtain some figurative absolute--a vegetable state--but we can't because we are always trapped in our heads. The American Dream is ultimately about progression until some sort of victory (success, whatever that is), then coming back home to be at peace--pure, free. I see my own life goals: getting a job which pays well, write a novel which gets my name recognized, and settling down. The aspect which makes my own dream unhealthy is this fame-seeking aspect. If I really loved to write, I would just do it, there would be no ultimate goal involved, no achievement to be unlocked. So many kids are drawn to video games today, I think, because clear objectives are given. They know when they have achieved something. Life isn't like that. No one tells you when you arrived. There is no +1 that appears above your head. There is no God Mode to be unlocked. But we have been tricked. To look at the face of things (what an odd phrase), I would say this fuels consumerism, this massive debt spiral we are currently living in and the banks which make money off of it, and also Atheism, the giving up of God completely and living only in the material reality.

One of main problems in American culture is the lack of culture--I know that is paradoxical, but work with me. The great problem people deal with is what to do with the time that is given. We all crave some sort of supernatural entity to come down and say, "hey there buddy, you should be a lawyer." "Okay, I'm happy with that. At least I don't have to endlessly think about my career anymore. Thanks, God." But there is no God to tell us what to do, he kicked us out of paradise, remember? So some of us resort to government (totalitarianism, communism, socialism, fascism) to tell us what to do. Some of us to letting our culture guide our lives (we all do this and I think it can be the healthiest way). Some say that there is no point and either kill themselves or head towards anarchism. This line of thinking is the result of "the earth we live on is an artifact" myth, or "we were put into this world" myth. The truth is, the earth is a living entity and we came out of this world, we weren't put into it.

"History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake." It is entirely appropriate to become frustrated with history and the impossibility to escape the cycles, the rhythms of life. What you have to do is vibrate with it. There are two consciousnesses at work inside us--the vegetable, and the animal one (represented by Lucifer). The animal consciousness is full of doubts and regrets; it is the individual aspect of the cosmos. It is the one which require goals, dreams, and aspirations. It desires to return to the vegetable--the absolute, the wholeness of existence which flows through us. The two great parts: the part of us that knows it's just a droplet in the ocean, and the other part which knows it's different than everything else. (Also, the mineral, which I will not go into here.) The West has forgotten true spirituality and has driven itself to near complete materiality. We have lost a sense of community. We have no great speakers trying to wake us from the coma which is called materiality. We desire peace through fame, an impossible thing for most of us to achieve (unless we shoot up a school or drift off into the Alaskan wilderness to die alone). We need the resurgence of the culture of community, the true spirit of Jeffersonian democracy, to return. We have to placate the reptile inside us by giving ourselves a purpose, but always remembering that we are a part of an interconnected universe.

I remember watching "Smoke Signals" a few semesters back for another class. This movie seems to be a favorite of the English department at MSU, and I see why. There's a lot going on in this film, and it can be read from many different angles. There is the multi-cultural aspect which is the focus of this class. There is the narrative of forgiving the father's sins, which seems to be on the heartbeat of all Western art--the guilt of being alive in the first place. There is the hero's journey, which is how I watched it earlier ("Mythologies"). The movie is also charming, the characters easy to connect to, and the screenplay written by the relatively local writer, Sherman Alexie. I guess I see this movie as an easy crossover point for many Americans who know nothing of the Indian community. This story is universal and crosses cultural boundaries, which David Hume would point out makes it a great piece of artwork. As an early foray into film by Sherman Alexie, he does an admirable job with the new medium, and the all native cast was a great choice. From my own experience growing up pretty close to an Indian reservation, it was enlightening to observe something from their perspective. Often I see only the bad things, but there are good things there too: a real strength in community and family which that has been lost in much of American culture.

To read Smoke Signals from only a multi-cultural perspective would be a mistake. The universal truths conveyed, I think, go far to show the audience the universal experience of being a human. It boggles me that someone could focus on the racial tension alone in the film because it's such a small part. We all feel attacked by the cosmos sometimes. The native experience of being discriminated against could be a representation of anyone's life. Yes, native prejudice is a real thing which should be fought against (To a certain level, we're all a little bit racist, we all make stereotypes on the first meeting no matter who the person is. It's a natural thing humans do, we construct stories to get by in this world. Plus we all have the drive to be a part of a community, and most of us tend to see our race as a certain community even on a subconscious level.) Yes, we should look at this film from a realist perspective and try to combat our own prejudices and the prejudices of society, but more importantly, we should see the ability of story to connect us with anyone in the world. In the end, we are all the same, with all the same internal desires. We are sometimes blinded to this fact because we are human, and that's what humans do: we create groups because we need them to survive. Groups are healthy and if wielded correctly can be amazing for own growth and enlightenment. Alexie knows this: he wrote a whole movie about it. However, they also have the ability to destroy us when we forget what the original purpose of the group was, or if it was poisonous to begin with.