Riding Songs
Granddad drove a burgundy Oldsmobile. When I rode with him, there was always a small bag of lemon drops and a pack or two of Halls Cough Drops stowed safely under the front seat armrest. I loved the taste of …
Creative Nonfiction
In Print
Nonfiction
Student 2005
Writing Contest Winners
Renewal of Faith
It all began with a return trip to my home reservation to seek monetary assistance for school clothes and supplies; my son was to begin his freshman year in high school in a couple of weeks. I wasn’t working that …
Red Fire Ants
Among the hills and pines, teen problems swarm the land like red fire ants on their way to nowhere or somewhere, a motion known only to them, but determined and relentless. We know where they came from, rode in on …
Choosing to Forgive
When I was 6-weeks old, my mother left my father and moved to Minneapolis. She remarried a non-Indian German man named Mike, who loved me very much. I was raised calling this man Dad and knowing no other. They had …
Aaka’s
The TV was always on at Aaka’s, from the moment she first awoke in the morning and her plastic-bottomed Isotoner slippers swished past my room, to the late evening when she again shuffled the unusually long hallway back to her …
Racism
The very first time I experienced a racist incident was when I was in the seventh grade. It was the end of the summer when my family and I moved to this small town called Cando. I just couldn’t wait …