Before there was any notion of a "united states," there were many established cultures, languages, and governments here. Early thinking of the Native Americans as wild savages was the epitome of ignorance, and thinking of modern natives as descendants of savages is wallowing in ignorance. There is no need to search for the native identity, for it has always been here. The challenge is to hold onto it as we move farther and farther away from the things of nature and the earth. Of course, it doesn't help that they still suffer suppression, when such suppression is said not to exist anymore.

I am recognized as a white man, because of the color of my skin. But, in my mind, I am just a man, without color. However, I am part Cherokee-native blood comes to me from both sides of my family. And I am proud of my native heritage. The feeling of being torn between two worlds is an everyday thing for me: As an intellect and as a writer, I love the modern era, with its computers and such. But there is always a voice inside that calls me to take a breath, to go outside, to spend time with nature, and to see the beauty and power of the earth, which no technology or science could ever control or fully explain. It is in these moments that I long for the old ways to return, when concepts such as loyalty, honor, and reverence for our great mother the earth still mattered. Our age, I feel, is a cynical one-money rules all, and next to that is ambition. I look to my Cherokee heritage, and to nature, to remind me how much we have to learn, and how blessed we are simply to be alive.

Perhaps I am innocent, but I truly cannot understand how common people continually overlook Native Americans and the fact that this was their homeland first-and that it remains their homeland. My honor is with my native ancestors, and all native peoples, for they LIVED the principles of loyalty and honor and honesty; modern people do little more than talk about it.

I refuse to call them "Indians." Columbus was lost; he called them such because he thought he'd landed in the West Indies. An honest enough mistake, considering that Western man had little idea of this land at that time. But that mistake should have been corrected as soon as it was realized that this land was not the West Indies. Even "native american" isn't wholly true, for there was no America then. Each nation had its own established governing system, territory, etc. They had no need of Western-type civilization, for they had their own. They are children born of a land uncorrupted by statutes and courts.

When I look back to the old days, there is some part of me, something alive in my blood, that allows me to see it. There was no disease, and starvation was not as big a threat as modern stories make out, for the people lived off the land instead of exploiting it. The wellbeing of the tribe came first, then the family, and then the individual. In modern times, that sequence is reversed.

Like the wolf, Native Americans seem to have fallen into a category-american legends, or some such-that lives no further than texts in the library. But they are still here, misplaced but still alive, children of this land which has seen so much blood and pain in the name of money or god. They amaze me for their perseverance, and I learn from it as well as I can. What Native Americans deserve first and perhaps most of all is RESPECT. Respecting them will make clear their identity.

Learn more about this author, Jason Lusk.
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