The Anthem Of My Fierce Heart

"From A Wigwam" was the first song I learned to play on the piano that I really liked. It was on the last page of the book Teaching Little Fingers To Play, and it was a 'hands-together' song. Not only that, but my left hand played two notes at once for the entire song. Those two notes provided the Indian drum-type rhythm while my right hand played the 'Ba ba, Ba ba-ba bam' part.

It was very fierce sounding to my young ears, and it pleased my fierce little Indian heart. Deep down, I knew I was an Indian, and finally I could express my wildness in song.

I was almost certain I was an Indian because my cousin Mark was a real, 100% Indian. Since I was related to him, it was only logical that I was at least part Indian, despite my pale skin, green eyes and un-black hair. Mark, on the other hand, had jet-black hair and skin as brown as the moccasins he wore every day that summer.

According to Mark, the ultimate proof of authentic Indianhood was the ability to find arrowheads, and he had found many along the gravel road leading to my Papaw's house. I was awed by those finds, and I would imagine bows and arrows and feathers and scalps as I smoothed them in my hands. But I always had to give them back, which was woeful since, to my great consternation, I had not found my own yet.

My lack of success did not stop me from looking every day, my eyes glued to the ground. I never stopped believing that one day I would find my proof, and everyone would know that I was a displaced Indian princess, wild at heart and worthy of the anthem in my beginning piano book.

*Disclaimer: when I was growing up, the political (and geographically) correct term Native Americans did not yet exist, so we did not yet know we were supposed be playing Cowboys and Native Americans.