Saved; Living in the "Protected Place"

Mino was a small hidden gorge within a bigger valley. A wide river bordered it on the north and hills all but encircled it, enabling it to remain more protected from the weather than some of the adjacent areas. The local Indians named it “the protected place.” There were only two entrances into the valley; one way was a county road that came in under the train trestle, the other a back way through tribal land along the river. There were also only about eighty families in Mino. Most were ranchers with extended family, living in clusters, who had lived there all their lives.

I’d never been inside the house we’d rented, so was surprised at how nice it was. Only about twenty years old, it was fully carpeted, had five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining room, porch with sliding glass doors, and a workroom downstairs. It was perfect for us. By far, the nicest place we had ever lived.

But it had taken all we had to move out and for the first few days we had no money to hook up the electricity. Without electricity, we weren’t able to run the pump and have water. We realized now how vital this utility was when there is nothing at all to drink.

Now that we were living on another reservation, Marcia drove me over to get commodities. What a blessing. The variety of commodities here was more than I’d seen before. And most important, we were given several cans of ready to drink apple, orange, grape and pineapple juice. I also signed the children up for WIC. I wanted all the help we could get. The next day dad’s check for $300 arrived and we got our electricity connected.

In the meantime, Wilson, Elmer, and Elmer’s son Kirk left for Canada. Elmer had been offered a job salmon fishing with a friend and they hoped that Wilson and Kirk would be able to get on the boat, too. Marcia and Kirk’s wife, Susan, cried as the men left. I didn’t.

Within a few days, Kirk and Wilson were back. Unlike Elmer, they weren’t able to get on a boat.
Marcia, apologizing for being such a bother in her loneliness for Elmer, came over almost daily. That was okay. I was lonely for friends and welcomed her visits. With the warm sun and quiet company, I found myself relaxing as I hadn’t been able to do in years. My responsibilities were to the children now and I cuddled and played with them. In fact, my medication from the psychiatrist now went untouched. I had no need for it.

I applied for and got a job with a home health agency, traveling two or three days a week around the valley taking blood pressures and clipping toenails of patients in their homes. Wilson picked up work where he could, plowing fields for our landlord or changing irrigation pipes. He also put an ad in the paper to do upholstery.

Not more than a month after we arrived, word came that Wilson’s brother Charles had been stabbed to death in the park while drinking. I watched Wilson as he walked out onto our porch. With his back to us, his head hung down and his shoulders shook with sobs.

Marcia called the Coast Guard to let Elmer know his cousin had died. The next day, because Marcia didn’t have a phone, Elmer called Wilson.

“What’s wrong? Is Marcia and Lyndi all right?” he asked anxiously, ‘The Coast Guard came out to get me and said someone in the family had died.”

“Oh, Elmer, it was Charlie Hunter.”

“Oh,” Elmer said, almost relieved. “Well, I’ll be home in a day or so.”

“You don’t have to come home. We just wanted to let you know.”

“Well, it’s too late now. They took me off the boat. I can’t get back out there.”

We couldn’t afford to go back for the funeral, but a few days later, Elmer and Marcia came over to help us hold our own funeral and dinner for Bobbie. Although Wilson felt some guilt for having pulled Elmer off his boat, he felt comfort having his cousin next to him.

In a farming area like Mino, it’s not easy to just drop in on people for coffee. Farmers and ranchers are busy. Sure, they’ll stop and chat with people for a little while if they’ve got some time. They’re not rude. But they are busy. What with the whole family working crops and cattle and many women weeding their vegetable gardens and baking home-made bread, they certainly didn’t have time for entertaining strangers from out-of-state.

I still didn’t want anything to do with Christianity, but starved for company and because the Dovetail’s were the only people I knew, I went along with Wilson when he attended their prayer meetings or revivals. Sitting on someone’s living room floor one evening, I watched as the roomful of people burst into what they called “speaking in tongues.” With their eyes closed and heads lifted, they rambled incoherent syllables. Beside me, one woman, seemingly lost more in thought than prayer, recited her syllables in lazy fashion while staring at her fingers.

Another evening at a friend’s we were shown the film ”Thief in the Night.” It was a pretty dumb, poorly made movie…but at the same time, I identified with the heroine. It was a seventy’s movie – and she was a blond, middle class girl who, like me, believed that she was already a “good person” with no need for Christianity. Unfortunately, the movie went on to show how wrong she was and how she suffered for it.

“I guess it can’t hurt to be a Christian,” I decided, after viewing the movie. After all, “If it’s not true, it won’t matter that I called myself a Christian. But if it is true, I’ll be protected.”

That fall, we enrolled Andrew in kindergarten at the public school and Mickey in the local Indian school. If the Indian school had had a kindergarten, I would have enrolled Andrew there, too. I’d heard a rumor the public school was racist. But the Indian school didn’t have elementary grades, and the other was our only option if we wanted bus service.

Well, bus service in the morning anyway. Being a rural school, there was no money in the budget for a noon kindergarten bus. Fortunately, there were five other families with kindergartners in Mino that year - a real fluke in this small valley. The six families, including us, got together and organized a noon carpool. This was fortunate not just in that it relieved the daily pressure of driving, but it also allowed Wilson and me to get to know several families - very nice families, not racist at all.

Living in Mino was fascinating. Huge irrigation pipes crossed the fields and sprayed water in every direction, creating misty splendor and enchanting rainbows. Ranchers hired people to move those lines twice a day all summer. If a pipe mover was lucky, his line was on wheels and could be moved by simply starting a motor. Other pipelines were flat on the ground though, and had to be taken apart and moved section by section. This was demanding, exhausting work.

Sheep and cattle were also all over the place. We learned quickly that barbed wire fence and cattle grates aren’t perfect answers to keeping livestock penned. In fact, there didn’t seem to be any such thing as an impenetrable fence. Looking out the window one morning before school, I saw the road was crowded with a couple hundred cattle all moving east. At first I thought it was the largest group of escapees I’d seen yet, but then I saw several people herding them on horses. It was a beautiful sight. I had no idea people still herded cattle.

“Look, Mom,” said Andrew. “It’s Kenny on that horse!”

Looking closer, I could see he was right. Kenny, a tribal member, was one of Andrew’s classmates and only six-years-old! How could he be riding a horse let alone herding cattle! But watching him, it was easy to see he knew just what he was doing.

“Wow, he must have got up pretty early to be working like this before catching the bus for school.”

“Kyle and his sister work, too,” Andrew told me, ‘They change irrigation pipe before school. Sometimes Kyle comes to school smelling like cow poop.”

I was amazed. Kyle, a non-Indian, was also Andrew’s classmate. Kenny and Kyle were both really nice kids, happy and full of energy. Kyle’s mom said he loved helping out on the dairy farm so much that he hated to waste time sitting in front of the TV. He didn’t even know who the cartoon character “He-Man” was. That was hard to digest. A kid who would rather work than watch TV? I was so used to fighting teenagers over such minor jobs as dishes and taking out the garbage, it was hard to believe kindergartners could be so happy with these heavy jobs. But this was something I began noticing in kids of all ages all over Mino, from the dairy family to the ranching family to the potato growers. The families all seemed to work hard and happily together, even the teenagers.

Tribal Government Does Not Own Our Children - Please Sign Petition

Friends!

We have 30 days to get 25,000 signatures in order for our petition to be reviewed by the White House.

November is National Adoption Month - Let's do this Petition as our part in helping children this month. We need 6250 signatures a week to meet that goal. Let's pray for God's help and get started.

On Nov 19, Nat'l Adoption Day, families, adoption advocates, policymakers, judges and volunteers will come together and celebrate adoption in communities across the nation. We are setting a goal of 10,000 signatures by that date.

Please Sign the Petition and Use every method you have to share this link - http://wh.gov/bvZ - If everyone could get just 10 people to sign the petition and share it with at least 3 of their friends, we'll have it made!

Thank you friends!

TEXT OF PETITION:

We petition the Obama Administration to:

Ensure that Children of tribal heritage are guaranteed protection equal to that of any other child in the United States

Across America, children who had never been near a reservation nor involved in tribal customs have been taken from homes they know and love and placed with strangers chosen by tribal social services. This includes MULTI-racial children with minimal heritage.

Because of poorly thought out law called the 'Indian Child Welfare Act';

1) Kids have been removed from safe, loving homes and placed in dangerous ones.
2) Some families, Indian and non-Indian, have felt threatened by tribal gov't and have had no money to get legal help.
3) Equal opportunities for adoption, safety and stability are not always allowed to children of all heritages.
4) Constitutional right of parents to make choices for their families is being interfered with. Some tribal families don't want to be on the reservation. 

SIGN AT http://wh.gov/bvZ  

,

Indian Children: Citizens, not Cultural Artifacts

Are Children’s Lives Destroyed by ICWA?

Attend the Indian Child Welfare Act “Teach-In”

Friday, October 28, 2011, 9am - 1pm

Senate Committee on Indian Affairs Hearing Room,
Dirksen Bldg, Wash, DC

Keynote speaker: Dr. William B. Allen

Across America, children who had never been near a reservation nor involved in tribal customs - including multi-racial children with extremely minimal blood quantum - have been removed from homes they know and love and placed with strangers chosen by tribal social services.

The Indian Child Welfare Act was passed in 1978 in effort to help prevent Native-American tribes and families from losing children to non-Native homes through foster care and adoption. Though well-intentioned, the Act is now harming children all across the country as courts and tribes place culture and tribal sovereignty above children’s basic needs for permanency and stability.

Come hear real stories of children whose lives have been impacted by the Indian Child Welfare Act. Listen to legal experts and scholars discuss the constitutionality of an Act that limits placement options and delays permanency for many of our nation’s most vulnerable children.

1) Some Children have been removed from safe, loving homes and placed into dangerous situations.

2) Some families, Indian and non-Indian, have felt threatened by tribal government. Some have had to mortgage homes and endure lengthy legal processes to protect their children.

3) Equal opportunities for adoption, safety and stability are not always available to children of all heritages.

4) The constitutional right of parents to make life choices for their children including political associations has been interfered with.

5) The constitutional right for children of Indian heritage to enjoy Equal Protection has in some cases been denied.

Letters from tribal and non-tribal birth parents, extended family, foster parents and pre-adoptive families can be read at http://www.caicw.org/familystories.html

In the words of Dr. William Allen, Emeritus Professor, Political Science, MSU and former Chair of the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights (1989), 

“... we are talking about our brothers and our sisters. We’re talking about what happens to people who share with us an extremely important identity. And that identity is the identity of free citizens in a Republic…"

The Christian Alliance for Indian Child Welfare (CAICW) is the only national organization advocating for families who have lost or are at risk of losing children due to application of the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA). We well understand the original purpose of the Indian Child Welfare Act. Although ICWA has safeguards to prevent misuse, stories affecting multi-racial families abound across America. It is important that we come together as a community to talk about them.

Indian Children: Citizens, not Cultural Artifacts:

Indian Children: Citizens, not Cultural Artifacts:

Supporting the Best Interest of Children: ICWA “Teach-In” Friday, October 28, 2011, 9am - 1pm, Senate Committee on Indian Affairs Hearing Room, Wash, DC

The Indian Child Welfare Act was passed in 1978 in effort to help prevent Native-American tribes and families from losing children to non-Native homes through foster care and adoption. Though well-intentioned, the Act is now harming children all across the country as courts and tribes place culture and tribal sovereignty above children’s basic needs for permanency and stability.

Come hear real stories of children whose lives have been impacted by the Indian

Child Welfare Act. Listen to legal experts and scholars discuss the constitutionality of an Act that limits placement options and delays permanency for many of our nation’s most vulnerable children.

The sessions will include:

Initial Overview - The Mandate of Congress

a. Enforce the 14th Amendment

b. First, Do no Harm

c. Remedy Past Injustices

Session 1. ICWA is unconstitutional -

a. Dr. William B. Allen, Emeritus Professor, Political Science, MSU, will discuss Cohen v. Little Six; Granite Valley v. Jackpot Junction, Kiowa v. United Technologies, Choctaw v. Holyfield, and more.

Session 2. Congressional Intent -

a. Attorney O. Yale Lewis will discuss the legislative history of the ICWA and the changing history of the federal / Indian relationship.

Session 3. Political Status Claims threaten Citizenship -

a. Panel of affected families will share their family experience

b. Case studies on coerced enrollment will be presented.

Session 4. Cultural Heritage is a Data Point in Adoption Cases, not a Trump -

a. Who Decides when a citizen is an Indian; can race be politically attributed?

b. Restoring best interests of child as a consideration in adoptions.

Keynote: Dr. William Allen - Why We Must Act Now

JOIN US in support of the ‘Best Interest’ of Children — and THANK YOU!!

CONTACT LISA at WRITEUS@CAICW.ORG

Getting Out!!

Wilson loved powwows and never missed them if they were close, but I had never seen him dance. For two days we visited a powwow in the park. A circle dance began and because I had enjoyed it so much two years earlier, I begged Wilson to dance with me. He finally gave in. Together, we took Andrew and Joy and joined the circle. By the time we were done, we were all laughing and smiling. It was our first and last time dancing together.

Joy’s mother came back from Detroit just a couple weeks later. She wanted Joy back. Wilson and I decided to fight it. I took $1000 of the money my dad had given me for new gutters and hired a lawyer. I knew it was wrong, but felt there was no choice. Joy needed a better life. But the lawyer didn’t serve the papers to Shirley properly and the judge wanted them served again. That was going to cost more money. We couldn’t afford it and Joy told us she wanted to be with her mom anyway. Around the end of April, Joy moved back to Misty’s with Shirley.

Two weeks later, in mid-May, I took the rest of the money Dad had sent to prepare the house, took some vacation time from work, and we drove to Elmer’s with Andrew and Haley to see if we could find a home. Staying with Elmer and Marcia, I was able to spend time with my babies without any pressure. I felt free and relaxed. Wilson and I picked up the classifieds and began looking around for a place to live.

There was a house in the Mino valley that was for sale. We drove out there to look at it. Coming over a hill, we beheld the beautiful valley for the first time. Parking in the driveway of the home, we should have known it was out of our financial reach. But being dreamers, we spoke to the renters living in it anyway. They were moving out in two weeks, they said, “But the owners don’t want to rent it again, they want to sell it.”

A preacher friend of Elmer’s knew someone with a small trailer for sale. It was run down, but it was a place to live. We bought it for $1500, then left for home a few days later. Andrew thought it so neat how, although it was warm and sunny at Elmer’s house, he could throw snowballs at the highway rest stop in the mountain pass.

Andrew and I were on my porch when Misty and Wesley pulled up in front of our house in late May.
“Where’s my dad!” she yelled.
“He’s not home.’
“Come here, Andrew!” Misty called.
Andrew stood up hesitantly, then looked at me. “You stay here,” I told him. To Misty I said, “Your dad isn’t here. Go on.”
“Come on over here, Andrew!” Misty hollered again.
Andrew moved toward the steps, then looked at me.
“I said stay here.” Then I turned toward Misty. ‘Wilson isn’t here, Go home!” Wesley started the car. Misty stuck her head out the window of the moving car and bellowed curses at me until they were half way down the road.

When Wilson got home, I complained, ‘That’s it, Wilson! I can’t stand it anymore! I’ll give my notice at work and let’s move week after next!”
Wilson looked up at me, surprised. “I’m ready when you are.”

We called Elmer and Marcia and told them we were coming, but the trailer we’d bought needed too much work to move into right away. Besides, we had no land to put it on. So, still having their classifieds, we called the owners of the house we’d seen in Mino and asked if we could rent it. To our surprise, they agreed over the phone. I packed everything up. Wilson and Matthew got a U-Haul and moved a load of our things while I disposed of everything unneeded in a rummage sale. Wilson and Matthew then turned around and came right back so we could drive out together in our car.

During my moving sale, Dad called. As I spoke to him, someone came to the door and wanted to know if I would sell an item for just a dollar. I agreed. Dad was disgusted.
“They won’t pay you a good price. I will buy all your things. Will $300 cover it?”
“That will be fine Dad.” And I gave him our address in Mino to send the check.

When Wilson returned with the truck, I realized that I had miscalculated the amount of money needed to rent the U-Haul. I had forgotten to double the mileage for the ride back. There was no way we were going to be able to cover it.

So Wilson returned the truck to the lot at night and we hurriedly got ready to leave early the next day. But once the wagon was packed, Andrew was no where to be found. We split up covering the neighborhood. I stopped next door.

“He isn’t here,” they told me, “but you better make sure he’s not at the neighbor’s next door. We just found out their 12-year-old kid’s been molesting our little boy.”

We found Andrew playing with a friend, quickly got in the car, and left.
None too soon, I thought to myself. What a horrible neighborhood – I am so glad to be getting our kids out of it.

Wilson drove our wagon and I drove a small hatchback I’d bought from Bobby. Along the way, we stopped frequently to let the dying wagon cool.

Claims to be Christian - Yeah, right.

Wilson went to stay with Misty. Well, that would be that. Shirley, remarried, had recently left her husband and was homeless as well. Not only were she and Joy living there, but Cheri, her little girls and Junior too. Wilson would be under the same roof with his ex-wife and all their kids and grandkids. A remarkable situation; they were one big happy family again. He wouldn’t need my babies and me. Also, with the amount of drinking and smoking going on there, it wouldn’t be long before he got started and that would be the end of his talk about sobriety and Christianity.

Wilson not only stayed sober but he kept coming around. I started letting him watch our kids while I was at work. For two weeks he courted me. One night he picked me up from work and took me to our old restaurant - just like we used to. When he dropped me off and drove away, I felt as though I’d been on my very first date ever with him.

One day I called home from work. "Wilson, I forgot my medication this morning. I just don’t feel like I can cope. Could you bring me my medicine?”
“Sure, I’ll be right over.”
But the medication didn’t help. It was my life I hated. How could a drug change that?

After just two months, I left ‘bitter’ BetterLife and went back to the family-run nursing home where I had felt more comfortable.

“Shirley is going back to live with her husband in Detroit and Joy wants to move in with me,” Wilson said one day.
I sat down. How could Joy “move in” with Wilson? He didn’t have a place. I knew I was asking for trouble again, but I really did love Joy. “Well, I guess you both could come here.”
Joy and Wilson moved back in with me on March 16. I explained to Steph that I had to do it for Joy’s sake, but she didn’t believe it. We argued and Steph moved out. Troy also went back to Salmon Lake and stayed there.

I enrolled both Joy and Andrew in swimming lessons at the YMCA. While they were in class and Haley was in the nursery, I worked out in the weight room. I was there partly to get back into shape after having a baby, partly to build myself up in case of another attack by Shirley.

Joy reported that the family from the Rez rolls joints on their coffee table. Four- year-old Andrew joined in, “I stole some cigarettes from 7-11 for them. They wanted me to smoke one.”
“And Mom,” he confided, “Rose is Louis’ girlfriend. They were in the garage and she told him to put his hand in her pants.”
I felt sick. Rose and Louis were both nine-years-old.
Standing on our sidewalk with Andrew, I pointed from one house to another.
“I don’t want you to play over there or that house either. They do bad things over there. You are not to go inside the house across from them, or play with the kids over at the red house. And stay out of that green house, too.”
“But Mom,” Andrew objected, “then there’s nobody left to play with!”

Elmer and Marcia came to visit relatives in Salmon Lake, then came down to the city to spend a couple nights with us. Having them physically in front of me was reassurance that they really existed. Seeing them was like nourishment.
“Why don’t you move on out to west?” Elmer cajoled.
“I’m buying this place. Where would we live out there?”
“There’s plenty of places.”
“Well, if we did go Wilson would have to find us a nice house first.”
“Well, don’t be so high on the horse. Sometimes you have to accept something not so good for awhile if you want to make a better life. You might have to accept living in a trailer or something.”
Later, I spoke to Marcia. ‘What happens if I quit my job, drop this house, go all the way out there and then Wilson starts drinking again?”
“He really is a Christian now. I know; I saw him crying on his knees on my living room floor. I was there.”

I still didn’t think I loved Wilson and didn’t trust that he was really going to stay sober. And I most definitely didn’t believe he was really a Christian. But I knew I wasn’t happy being a single mom trying to buy a house I didn’t like in a neighborhood I hated. I also knew I’d have to be evening charge nurse for awhile. When Andrew started school in the fall, I’d never see him.

I also knew I was an angry, bitter woman and if I kept going that way - my heart filled to the brim with hate - I’d end up like some of the bitter, old women I had worked with in the nursing homes. I decided moving couldn’t be worse than living here.

We sat around the dinner table with Mickey, Joy and my kids. We made a commitment to each other that we were going to stick together and move as a family. Grandma and Grandpa were having their 50th wedding anniversary and later that summer was my class reunion, so we decided to wait and move in late August, before school started. I’d have to prepare the house for sale and hire a realtor.

Break Down

I liked the family atmosphere at this Nursing Home, but I learned that BetterLife Health Care, the facility I was working at when I met Wilson, was paying more. So I switched. The night after my last night at the nearby nursing home, I was supposed to show up with a pizza. Afterward, we were all going out. Stephanie had come home just as I was leaving.
“Here,” she said, “I’ve got us some munchies and a movie! Let’s spend the evening together!”
“Sorry, I’m doing something with people from work.”
“Okay,” she said, and sat down in front of the TV by herself.
I felt guilty as I left.

But at BetterLife, I wasn’t a charge nurse anymore. At the nursing home I had an interesting position that gave me responsibility and freedom. Now at BetterLife, I was nothing more than a pill pusher. The atmosphere at BetterLife, which had changed corporate hands over the years since Wilson was a patient, was also different. It was no longer ‘laid back’; it now had very strict rules for quality control. Stepping just inside a door to hand a resident his pills one day, I turned around to find the quality control supervisor slapping my med-cart locked.
“Never leave it unattended!” she snapped.

One night an aide was having difficulty getting a resident with dementia to take a shower. The aide got rough while handling the patient. The next day, I asked my supervisor about it.
“I haven’t been here very long,” I said, “and I don’t know the patients as well as this aide does. Was it necessary to get rough in order to ge the patient to take a shower?”
“This is a ‘vulnerable adult’ issue,” my charge nurse responded, “You should have stepped in and stopped that aide. I’ll have to report you.”

I hated going to work. It was hard leaving my babies, but leaving them to go to this place was all the worse. Halfway through a shift one day, I was trying to teach a diabetic woman how to give herself an insulin shot. I drew the insulin into the syringe and attempted to tap it. As I did this, I tried to explain the purpose, but couldn’t think of the word “bubble.” I couldn’t think straight at all. Struggling to concentrate, I stumbled through the rest of the lesson. As soon as I was finished, I went to the director’s office. I had no idea what was going on with me, but I knew I had to leave.
“I can’t do this.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I have to go home.” She let me go.

At home, my neighbor suggested I go to her psychologist. I called for an appointment. Because of the apparent crisis, they squeezed me in late that afternoon.
The psychologist rushed around the waiting room. Her hair was disheveled and her face wore a scowl.
“Come this way.”
In her office, she informed me that she and her husband were leaving on vacation that evening, but she had twenty minutes or so to spend with me. I quickly summarized my situation.
“Well, it sounds like you’re suffering from post-partum depression. We’ll have to get you on some medication.”
I squirmed in my seat.
“The main thing here is to keep you working. I’ll send you across the hall to my husband. He’ll take care of the prescription.”
I crossed the hall to his office. Although I knew I was happiest when I was with Haley and I doubted I had post-partum depression, I didn’t mind getting medication. Anything to make me feel better. I left the office with a prescription – and never returned.

That evening, I got drunk with my neighbor and Troy at the home of another neighbor. Her husband, having to work in the morning, stood on the landing and begged us to go away. We stayed until the early hours of the morning.

For the short time I knew her, I thought this woman was a great friend. She professed to be a Christian, but I didn’t hold it against her. More important was that she listened to all my problems and commiserated with me. In support of a person’s right to have whatever they desire, she gave me permission to let go, get drunk, be promiscuous, and have a good time. So I began an affair.

A week later Elmer called, ‘Wilson is on his way home. He’s hitchhiking.”
“No! Tell him not to come home.”
“Well, he’s already left! How come you don’t want him home?”
“I just don’t want him. You shouldn’t have let him leave.”
“He’s a Christian now you know.”
“Yeah, right!”

Wilson arrived a week later. Knowing what I was going to tell him, I hid my kitchen knives. I was afraid he might get mad.
Not being allowed into the house, Wilson stood on the porch staring out across the street. He wore a tan jacket in the cool spring air. His hands were in his pockets.
“I don’t want you to stay here,” I told him. He turned to look at me. His eyes were soft and moist. He looked away, said nothing for a moment, then quietly responded.
“I’m Christian now. I can’t live like I was living anymore. I want you, Andrew and Haley to move with me out to where Elmer is.”
“I’ve got a job and I’m buying this house.”
“I’ll wait for you a little while, but whether you come with me or not, I’m going back.”

Shipping him off

....I stood for a minute. What did she do that for? I waited. What’s taking her so long? I felt stupid just standing there. How long am I supposed to stand here?

...Finally, after what felt like forever, I turned and slowly started walking to the car. If she came down, I didn’t want it to look like I was running off but I wasn’t going to just stand there either. I slowly crossed the street, opened my car door, and sat in the car. Now what do I do? I looked up to her window to see if anyone was watching. I saw no one.

WelI, I’m not going to sit around here all day, I thought. Moving slowly, I started up the car and left.

Wilson came back down in February. I wouldn’t let him stay with me, so he stayed at Cheri’s house. But he came over to see us often. I was dropping him off one afternoon when Cheri passed my car and walked up the steps of her sidewalk. Sitting in the driver’s seat, I could see her through Wilson’s passenger window. Wilson, with his head turned my way, had his back to her. She turned at the top of the steps and silently mouthed a curse at me.
“Did you see that?” I asked him.
“See what?”
“I can’t take this crap anymore, Wilson. If I have to get away from you so I can get away from them, I will!”
Wilson turned, got out of the car, and went upstairs. I drove off.

After awhile, I couldn’t take Wilson hanging around anymore. I wanted to start a new life with new friends, so I decided to talk him into going far away.
“Wilson, I talked to Elmer last week. Why don’t you go out west to visit him?”
“Nah.”
“Why not? It’ll give you a break. Some time to yourself. I’ll buy your ticket.”
I’m not sure why he agreed to it, but he did. He wasn’t going to leave for a couple days though and I was afraid he’d change his mind. So I did everything I could to pamper him and make him think everything was fine between us, including having him stay at my house.

The night before he was to leave, Misty’s newest boyfriend, Wesley Redwood, came to the door for Wilson. They spoke quietly for a few minutes, then Wesley left. I knew without seeing it that he’d brought Wilson some weed for the road. I was glad this was all going to be over soon. I was sure Wilson would never get enough money together for a ticket back.

At dawn Andrew and I brought Wilson down to the bus depot. Andrew hadn’t had a chance to get breakfast, so he was surly. Wilson teased him about going along, but Andrew just scowled.
Wilson boarded the bus. As the bus slowly backed up to leave, Wilson waved from the window. Andrew grabbed my arm and began pulling me to the car.
“Wait a minute. Your dad is leaving! Wave good-bye!”
“Come on,” he glowered without even looking at the bus. “I want to eat!”
I waved weakly at Wilson and left. Andrew’ rudeness made me feel sorry for Wilson, but I also felt relief that this permanent separation probably wouldn’t bother Andrew much.

The truth is, I wanted to start going out with my staff after work. As long as Troy and Mickey were there and I knew the babies were already in bed, there was no one that needed me and no reason for me to go home. I’d never been a person to go to bars before. I didn’t even know what to order when I finally went. But having been a good student of TV commercials, I tried to appear knowledgeable and simply ordered a “Lite.”

Being with the crowd was fun and I was able to relax. After a few nights, I didn’t even want to go home at closing time. Some of my staff didn’t either, so we began going to different houses. After all, the kids wouldn’t need me until breakfast time.

While smoking weed in one house, an aide started laughing.
“I just can’t believe it!” He said, “Here I am getting high with my charge nurse!”
Everyone laughed with him.

We are doing an ICWA "Teach-In" in DC in October!

Thank you for your continued support and prayers!!   

We received confirmation from Senator Hoeven’s office today:  The Senate Committee on Indian Affairs will allow the ICWA "Teach-in" to be held FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28th, 9am to 1pm in the Senate Committee for Indian Affairs hearing room in Washington DC. 

Dr. William B. Allen will be our main speaker and we expect the information and material offered to be exceptional.

Remember – the Christian Alliance for Indian Child Welfare (CAICW) is the ONLY national organization advocating for families who have lost or are at risk of losing children due to application of the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA) and has been advocating for families since 2004.

Feb 26, 2011— “We need help! This child will be dead in this woman's hands. We feel the good fight to do what's right but fear this child will be severely marred.”

April 7, 2011— “I have no were else to turn. My girls and i are in desperate need of help. If there is anyway you can help us please contact me as soon possible day or night…”

May 18, 2011—”our kids were taken yesterday. The pain is difficult to bear. We love these kids so much. This will be there third family placement since coming into foster care almost 2 years ago.”

ALL are welcome to come join and support us there. Come on Wednesday prior and spend a couple days visiting with the offices of your Senators and Representatives - and invite their staff to come attend the Teach-in!

Please share this post with friends and relatives that might be interested!

Also - We still have SAMARITAN Discount cards available for sale to help with expenses  ;)

Contact me if you would like one or would like a few to share some with friends!

Lisa - writeus@caicw.org

Website http://caicw.org

Twitter: http://twitter.com/CAICW   ( @CAICW )

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/fbCAICW.org

DONATIONS NEEDED for Teach-in expenses! Thanks!!! :)   - Click this Link for direct donations to CAICW, a 501c3 non-profit 

.

I am going to publish this fall.

.
Sorry for all the delays.  I had gone back to work as an RN, have been babysitting grandkids, and have been administrating the national org, Christian Alliance for Indian Child Welfare.  I haven't been able to tend to the blog very often.

But I will be publishing the book this fall.  Having lost all my digital copies of the book, I am in the process of keying in the second half, which I do still have on hard copy. (I just took the first half back off this blog).  Please pray for me as I key the second half back in. Going back over the entire book, as I have this week, brings lots of thought and emotion.  I would like to do this book right - to do justice for those that have died.  At least three more in our family have died as a result of alcohol and drugs in just the last year and a half.