Post by Okwes on Mar 27, 2007 15:00:57 GMT -5
Hello everyone,
I will apologize ahead of time for the length of this email, but I wanted to provide all of the information and details for your review in order to make your own determinations and decisions.
I am forwarding this information to alert you regarding this book which this person below is attempting to have published. It is another ill informed, stereotypical portrayal of ndn's as thieves and bad guys. He is also apparently using real people in this book without their permission, including myself. The writers name is James Secor and he is a non native. He contacted me a month or so ago and was pushing me to do his research for him, in which I declined. He stated he wanted accurate and true information for his book. The storyline is based upon the Pottawatomie Tribe in which he wanted all kinds of info regarding them. I am not from this tribe, nor do I have the info that he requested. My response to him was if he is going to write a book regarding this tribe, he needs to contact them to get their permission, then get the info needed directly from them. He mentioned to me what his storyline was going to be about, which appeared to be very racist, I asked him to not pursue this storyline as all it does is continue the bad stereotyping that native people continually battle. I also stated to him that I was not interested in participating in this project, my focus is ongoing issues in ndn country that we face every day, not doing his research work for him. He stated he had attempted to contact the tribe, to no avail, my comment was maybe that would be your clue to not proceed! He continued to push me for info, in which I simply started not responding to. This weekend, I received the email below, in which he has included a section of this book. Since I refused to assist him, he has now decided (in his words) to "get back at me" by including me in his script as a pissed off ndn named "Wolf Lady." This is humorous, because that is not my ndn name, its a screen name I use, in which he is aware of. This would also not be a name that the Pottawatomie Tribe would use, so much for wanting accuracy, huh.
A quote from his original email dated December 6th:
"I'm writing a novel, part of which takes place in Lawrence, KS during the mid-30's. At one point, I have the bad guys take their kidnapped victim up to Mayetta, the Pottawatomie town at the edge of the reservation--which I've been on. The baddie is banking on his prejudice that a little money and some liquor will keep the stupids quietly watching his charge. Unfortunately for him, the Indians are not so gullible or dumb. They find out who the victim is and that he has a friend in OK. So. . .they decide to ship this guy to their relatives who've settled in OK. They in turn will contact the friend to return their charge."
A quote from the book excerpt below:
"They knew only one behavior--lying and cheating and stealing. If this way was their way with each other, they could not then treat another people better. The Indians' lives were ruined, their bodies were captive but a sense of justice is hard to kill. "
I will be contacting the Pottawatomie Tribal office tomorrow to alert them of his intentions on this book. Surely they will not be very happy with this, especially since he apparently is using real people's names. I feel this is completely disrespectful to everyone involved and typical of a writer that is only interested in their own fantasy of reality. He apparently cant see thru his own ego to see how harmful writings such as this are to ndn people..........and SO typical of a non native to do such. Frankly, I am tired of people plagiarizing native people for their own benefit.
The reason I have chosen to forward this info to you all is, if you read the section below and also feel the same as I have stated, I would like to ask for you to email him and let him know such.
If this book is in fact published, I would also like to ask for your support in helping to blacklisting it from being sold.
If you read this below and dis-agree with me, I understand, I apologize for bothering you and thank you for taking the time to read it. I realize that this is a novel, however at what expense do we continue to accept the continual racist portrayal of native people? Books, movies, TV commercials, cartoons, mascots, when does it end? The only way we can attempt to end this is, if we continue to make it known we will no longer tolerate it.
James Secor can be reached at znzfqlxskj@gmail.com
Again thank you for your time. Please read the email provided below.
In peace & solidarity,
Tamra
www.NDNnews.com
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Leonard Peltier, Sept. 2006
----- Original Message -----
From: James L. Secor
To: Tamra@ndnnews.com
Sent: Friday, January 12, 2007 8:34 PM
Subject: [SPAM] The Pottawatomie
Mirror, mirror on the wall. . .
I have done it on my own, stumbling onto some of the information while looking for something else. I think you will see how clouded your mirror is. You will also see how writers get even. . .and for that you are free to hate me. It is unfortunate I cannot remember Stumbling Bear's Indian name; he is beyond reach, I lost contact with him 9 months ago because of misplaced suspicion and US law.
Let me tell you of my friend, Stumbling Bear. It could be said he is a lost young man, a man without much direction; but he sa w little in the way of sunshine ahead. When he was in his early 20's, he and a friend got drunk and stole a car. They crashed it and, of course, were caught. His friend was a young married man, with a new baby, so Stumbling Bear (Geno to most whites) took the blame, saying he'd stolen it and made his friend come along for the joy ride, and served a couple years in prison, far longer than any white man would have. He saved his friend's family future. I know few people of his calibre. He now lives south of Harper, KS in Attica--or, that is where he did live: he was talking of returning north to his homeland and his aunt was very, very ill and did not have long to live. So, he may not be there. There was no street sign to the road he lived on. He is ADHD. He gave me friendship during a low time for me, so I made him the shaman/medicine man.
jimsecor
[from page 118, end of chapter] On the road out to Mayetta, a hay wagon lumbered. Behind it was a truck that wasn't in any hurry as the driver wasn't sitting on the horn. Both were riding in the dust of another car, scooting on up the road. Notice had to be given of the impending arrival. Indians were so easily bought, so gullible.
Atop the hay wagon and sunk down into the dry, scratchy straw, bound and gagged, lay Charles Hellesea. The pay off for keeping him out of the way was huge for the Indians, though they'd probably drink it all away rather than use it. Some people had a death wish. What did they have to complain about? Free land, free food and a government handout. Like the black persons, they just didn't seem to realize how well off they were. Nikki shrugged. Not his problem. Charles Hellesea was his problem and he was being taken care of.
XVI [pp 127-30]
As Charles Hellesea came to himself, sans liquor, he began to talk. The Pottawatomie, being great talkers, listened and realized that they had been duped by yet another white man. An evil man. Promises. A little money, a little good time and then the putrid remains of a man's soul. This is what white man gave. A promise was sacred. Yet white man. . .how could such devils come into their lives, the People of the Land, and seduce them? Continue to seduce them after so much debasement. A promise had great magic. It could not be denied or questioned.
The Pottawatomie spoke to Charles and learned his life and knew that there was something in common with their own. His rightful home was being ripped away from him by treachery and false smiles. His family was being murdered. So. . .white men do to their own as they do to Indians. This was senseless, the Indians nodded to each other, but explained the ways of whites. They knew only one behavior--lying and cheating and stealing. If this way was their way with each other, they could not then treat another people better. The Indians' lives were ruined, their bodies were captive but a sense of justice is hard to kill. It had been promised to them by the Great spirit that the good would triumph in the end. Along the way, good had to be done, for it was only by the actions of the people that the promise could become manifest.
The Pottawatomie leaders met in the shack they called a general store to consider their fate. They sat on the dusty floor around the pot-bellied stove, silent. The old one pointed with his chin, "Mukatapenaise, Blackbird," and a young man near the door moved, taking up a position at the door, peering through the cracks of the misaligned slats of wood. It would not do for their white captors to see their deliberations, governance deemed savage and uncivilized. The Indians did not have to worry about sneak attacks any more. The white man in his arrogance rode right down the main street believing no Indian was beyond his grasp. Another signal from the old one and the stove was opened and a pipe and pouch extracted.
"It is our life in question," said the old one, Pwaunashig, Sounder.
"We are wronged in wrong. We cannot stand on a wounded leg."
"We have no other but wounded legs."
"And so we should maim ourselves?" asked the old one. "Bent legs are bad. Stumps carry us nowhere."
"He is white man. We have no responsibility."
"Your voice is colored, Wolf Lady. You have eyes only for hatred."
"White men bled all my men."
"This Charles Hellesea is not all white men."
"And we are all Indians?" Wolf Lady stood up.
"Even in harm, Kitchemonado the Great Spirit tells us not to do harm to ourselves."
"You are a weak medicine man, Stumbling Bear. You could not keep us from harm."
"I am not so old," he replied.
"We will not fight," announced Sounder, raising a hand.
Wolf Lady hesitated and then took her place on the floor. Together, they sat in silence.
"Our brothers in Oklahoma."
"We owe them skins from many summers."
"Where is Charles Hellesea's friend?"
"We must find him."
"This white man does not look Indian. He cannot accompany us," said Blackbird.
"If he is found, we will be further burdened. There is no justice in white man's world," rejoined Stumbling Bear.
"And he will not be found here."
"Not if he is no more!"
"You sound very like white man, Wolf Lady. If this Charles Hellesea is found here, we will be his kidnappers. They do not ask us what it is we do. They tell us. We cannot escape. We are like Coyote and the rock Iya. We will be squashed."
"I am not satisfied of our goodness," from the door.
"Why is this, Blackbird?"
"No white man has ever said thank you."
"And if we do not good?"
"There is no good we can do for the white man. Everything he sees is evil."
"And you, Wolf Lady? You do not see evil everywhere? If you only see what you wish to see, you will not see the world around you. There is more in the world than scrub brush and bad water. If this is your horizon, you have lost your way. Coldness is seeping into your heart, drowning justice and right action. If we behave like our captors, we become our captors."
"I am not blind, Old One! I will be no part of this!"
"I think you have forgotten something and it is something that is very important to your people. You must consider it," and the others nodded to Sounder's words.
Wolf Lady stood up and stormed past the man at the door, pushing him aside. She slammed the door shut, shaking the little shack, raising up the dust, and stalked down the street.
"She will not betray us." The rest of the Indians grunted assent. "She has good eyes but they are reddened by blood."
"Then to our hand-holding Pottawatomie brothers we take this Charles Hellesea?"
"We will make a little sweat lodge in our wagon. Half-finished skins atop will stink the white man away."
"Yes," laughed a fat old man, Waususkuck, a man who would not take an English name. "White man thinks Indians unclean. We must use this Indian against him. It is his blindness."
"Charles Hellesea in his ride will gain freedom and a clean soul. Even a good man needs to sweat himself."