Doll Story 
In my 17th spring i met Wampanoag Princess Evening Star
(a/k/a: Gertrude Haynes Aikens - scroll about half way down when the page opens) -
and what happened during that meeting has stayed with me these many years …
our meeting though brief was impactful like a striking meteorite ...
i was enjoying the independence gained with a new driver's license,
our meeting though brief was impactful like a striking meteorite ...
i was enjoying the independence gained with a new driver's license,
and one of my very first stops was at Princess Evening Star’s Mashpee teepee gift shop
which, as a kid on Cape Cod i'd seen pass by many times through the car window
which, as a kid on Cape Cod i'd seen pass by many times through the car window
and always with a longing to explore inside -
so i'd always asked if we could stop.
but the caretaker family i was with never had the interest.
so i'd always asked if we could stop.
but the caretaker family i was with never had the interest.
my curiosity was held by what i'd heard was out behind the gift shop:
the tribe’s ceremonial sacred grounds -
the tribe’s ceremonial sacred grounds -
while the shop was available to everyone, typically the grounds were kept closed to the public,
except for 2 weeks every summer when, in a community building gesture,
all were invited to take part in a kind of ‘get to know us’ Wampanoag celebration ...
all were invited to take part in a kind of ‘get to know us’ Wampanoag celebration ...
That day as i finally entered the small shop, i was nervous not knowing what i’d find -
i quickly spotted a woman sitting nearly hidden behind a small counter …
brief greetings were exchanged between us, then little conversation ensued …
i wandered the small room stuffed to the rafters with native interpretation
of a Cape Cod gift shop which smartly took advantage of the yearly tourist influx -
behind where the woman sat was a door to i presumed her residence,
of a Cape Cod gift shop which smartly took advantage of the yearly tourist influx -
behind where the woman sat was a door to i presumed her residence,
while around to the back of the shop, gentle breezes wafted in
through the opened top portion of a dutch door through which i could see a covered walkway -
through the opened top portion of a dutch door through which i could see a covered walkway -
i knew instinctively it led down to the sacred grounds, even though little else could be seen -
Too curious about what indian ceremonial grounds might look like,
i feigned interest in NDN tchotchkes on the shelves by the dutch door,
but apparently my curiosity about what lay beyond was more evident
than was my interest in gift items because it was then that the Princess spoke again.
than was my interest in gift items because it was then that the Princess spoke again.
“Would you like to go out back?”
i recognized immediately the incredible honour presented to me …
deeply humbling - and though i didn't know it at the time,
the entire experience was surely my first step as a shaman
(which is a whole ‘nother story) ...
the entire experience was surely my first step as a shaman
(which is a whole ‘nother story) ...
in fact with hindsight, perhaps i might even say, it was a spontaneous initiation
by the trees and by the animals i encountered …
by the trees and by the animals i encountered …
It was also the first time i remember feeling Time as a separate dimension altogether
so i can't say for sure how long it was before i finally headed back inside …
the woman still sat behind the counter, beading now though…
when she briefly looked up from her work, i bowed slightly and,
touching my heart, thanked her again for ‘letting me go out there’ -
touching my heart, thanked her again for ‘letting me go out there’ -
she lightly dismissed my homage, stating matter of factly, “you are indian”
which made me feel she claimed no right to keep an NDN from holy ground …
... and here’s where respectful youth seeking truth, misread the situation so badly
that even still, after all these years, i wish i could have a do over -
my mistake is rooted in the zodiac, that aries sun is nothing if not honest -
so that for the sake of truth and honour,
this aries sun confessed that, while my heart sincerely wanted to believe what she said,
about me being indeed NDN, that i had no paper trail to corroborate what my heart knew …
about me being indeed NDN, that i had no paper trail to corroborate what my heart knew …
Unfortunately, given the political climate and social environment of the times**
(and personally not yet having met Black Elk who said,
"If you have one drop of Indian blood in your veins, then you are Indian"),
(and personally not yet having met Black Elk who said,
"If you have one drop of Indian blood in your veins, then you are Indian"),
it is with deep personal regret that truth-seeking
was inadvertently misread as my unwillingness to lay claim to my heritage.
was inadvertently misread as my unwillingness to lay claim to my heritage.
Needless to say, thenceforth, the whole tone of our conversation changed …
Warlike impatient now, the Princess got up from her seat, came out from behind the counter
and crossed over to a closed doll case with a small, handwritten ‘not for sale’ sign on it …
she opened the glass doors and took out one of the dolls.
“This." she said, shaking it furiously in my face, "this is who you are,”
then she shoved the doll into my hands and returned to her silence, her seat and beading.
then she shoved the doll into my hands and returned to her silence, her seat and beading.
i was stunned … and as a 'lost one' also very hungry for more information
on the hope that inquisitiveness might reboot cordiality -
i asked the Princess, "What nation is she from?"
i asked the Princess, "What nation is she from?"
But misinterpreted honesty had already derailed the exchange,
and it became clear she wanted to be done with me.
and it became clear she wanted to be done with me.
“i dunno,” she said shrugging, adding with a wave of her hand, “southwest somewhere”*
Silence fell once more between us, and i knew it was time to take my leave.
She vehemently refused money for the doll -
‘she is a gift’ i was told from a whole new layer of impatience
that i had not already recognized the gift …
she did accept payment for the Wampanoag-crafted cranberry cologne,
my signature fragrance at the time.
my signature fragrance at the time.
(a uniquely delectable light and airy floral. i don’t know if it’s even still available)
In the months that followed, being unable to shake the feeling of utter dissatisfaction
with how the whole exchange went down --
that my honesty had been so completely misinterpretted,
and that i had been seen by her as denying those with whom i longed to be --
i returned to the teepee gift shop with hopes of explaining myself -
instead, from the stranger who opened the locked gift shop door,
i learned that inside, the Princess was dying
i learned that inside, the Princess was dying
i’ve carried Princess Evening Star in my heart since that day,
and i’ve often wondered if perhaps she was my ‘shadow teacher’ -
like 'shadow totems' that teach by way of challenges
Recently i was moved to honour this teacher -
so i decided to re-create in crochet the doll she had given me …
too lazy to unpack my NDN doll collection
with which the original doll has been packed for nigh on 20 years,
i worked entirely from only memory to crochet her doppelganger --
the original doll is of a child,
which i definitely was with regards to knowing my origins when i met the Princess -
before that meeting i’d been told from well-intentioned adults
that i was everything from mexican indian to indian of india,
but never was i told, american indian ...
that i was everything from mexican indian to indian of india,
but never was i told, american indian ...
However unwittingly, the Princess was the first one to steer me in the right direction -
I wanted the crochet doll to reflect time's passage,
I wanted the crochet doll to reflect time's passage,
from that day of my meeting with Princess Evening Star
to now in my own sixth decade …
hence, the grey-white hair with streaks of shimmering silver threads -
when the doppelganger was completed, the way she held her arms begged for a shawl,
and the way she held her head said "dancer"
so i made her a shawl dancer using the Navajo colours in her shawl
when the doppelganger was completed, the way she held her arms begged for a shawl,
and the way she held her head said "dancer"
so i made her a shawl dancer using the Navajo colours in her shawl
It was only after i finished crocheting her that i got curious
about how well i’d remembered her predecessor,
so i finally unpacked my indian doll collection to find her …
about how well i’d remembered her predecessor,
so i finally unpacked my indian doll collection to find her …
and here they are … how’d i do?
Princess Evening Star's gift - sans a long lost white drum ... the doppelganger stands in a juice glass ;)
