Bad Indians: A Tribal Memoir

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sound stuck on to the end of the noun. My brain wrestles with constructing a sentence that, to my poor English-trained neural pathways, means “The fish large is.” “That’s it!” Louise crows, “That sounds good!” “That sounds like Yoda,” I mutter. But I’m pleased. Thursday 8 a.m.: coffee 9 a.m.: blessing 9:30 a.m.: homework 10:00 a.m.: class This year’s Breath of Life class is over sixty participants, representing more than twenty-five different California Indian languages and major dialects of languages. It’s one of the larger groups, Leanne says. That’s a lot of Indian souls literally given the “breath of life” to take home to their communities and families. We joke that for this week, we are all one tribe: the
Breath of Life tribe, located in the Berkeley homeland. We move to our tribal rhythm: breakfast together in the seminar room, followed by sharing of our individual homework assignments and a lecture about linguistic analysis. At noon we break for lunch, then head off to various tours and little study groups scattered throughout dorms and the campus till dinnertime; in the evenings, more study groups (frequently led by our mentors and their assistants) go on late into the night. Instead of sitting around a communal fire grilling juicy salmon, we sit around dorm rooms or on outdoor benches grilling each other on vocabulary, conjugation, plurals, and the always-popular curse words. Somewhere in the Harrington notes, Isabel Meadows remembers that “Flugencio Cantua told her, “very tasty, our language.” I imagine our words being crispy or salty or smooth as a ripe fig. I like the idea that our language has flavor, texture, scent, yet can never be consumed. I tell Louise about Fulgencio’s comment; she tells everyone else, and we end the evening with great smacking of lips and satisfied rubbing of tummies. “Oh, that’s why they make those sounds, like they’re savoring each syllable!” Anyone looking at us from the outside would run in the other direction.
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© 2013 by Deborah A. Miranda All r
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P.O. Box 9145, Berkeley, CA 94709 (
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Table of Contents Title Page Copyri
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Chairwoman, Ohlone/Costanoan-Essele
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DeAnna Rivera, Wendy Teeters, Kimbe
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Introduction California Is a Story
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heels and tight dresses. She’d tr
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Theirs was the kind of desire that
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ut who are we, when we have survive
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the way Tonto spoke if you wanted t
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as a truth. As a whole. Even if the
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South while simultaneously requirin
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those giant dioramas behind glass),
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video project must have been a lot
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where voices can speak after long a
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Los Pájaros based on writings by J
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ut the women were caught with Spani
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When arrows were raining everywhere
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Deby Miranda, fourth grade picture
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Tell them to dig a big round basin
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Mission San Miguel campanario, circ
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lusty songs out beyond the padres
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Discipline Due to their animal-like
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customs.” Luckily, the Spaniards
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Also known in Spanish as azotes (st
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striking force. The whips might be
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Wooden club used to strike quickly;
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tuned-up souls. These reconditioned
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grandchildren, was never legally an
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Padre Figure 11. Franciscan mission
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we were his beloved and abused floc
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Dear Vicenta
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Well, I shouldn’t complain. Those
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Vicenta, I keep thinking of how you
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Mission to the chapel in Monterey,
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Not conquered. Nimasianexelpasaleki
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Meadows knew she was a valuable res
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sacred, and we have a right to spea
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Isabel Mar. [19]37 understands “j
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amongst the men, passed as just men
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seek every kind of way to feed them
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his plump arm, swung him around acr
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Bridges: Secularization Post- 1836-
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Wear their heavy aprons, high-necke
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Ularia’s Curse “Pero la maldici
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“Will you miss us, River?” she
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and Santa Clara, and as editor of t
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From The Argonauts of ’Forty-nine
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or near the goldfields in ’49, sh
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In 1857 the California State Legisl
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So when I see this woman’s image,
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Exorbitant amounts of money are mad
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Ms. Hawthorne shared that this phot
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have so many questions. What kind o
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as humiliating and opprobrious. It
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face. Oh let black smoke rise above
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ecognizable. Old News 1. It is diff
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with great desperation. 2. Sacramen
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3. San Francisco Bulletin, January
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killed one Indian, wounded several
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Jacinta’s Medicine Jacinta Gonzal
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They pierce the body like knives, l
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including my great-grandfather Tom
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If there was a connection to the mi
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in Monterey, was working to raise i
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Fr. Casanova’s Mass at Carmel, 18
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Mission register, baptism of Tomás
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María Inés García, probably on h
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Tomás Santos Miranda died in 1943.
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clearly were meant to keep rabbits
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a cookout. It reminds me of how my
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to turn tail and run for the hills.
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His hands—or rather, the one hand
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In 1877 it had been 107 years since
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through the infinite varieties of C
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yet still have an identity and comm
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Jr., circa 1981 I want Tom’s voic
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Also beneath the surface of this st
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a hell of a—he said, “I’m goi
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and of course, since he was old, hi
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stealing horses, drinking, and caro
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José Robles, circa 1879 Recently,
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would clear up and the air was clea
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“Well then, I can’t tell you ve
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two. I took my first drink when I l
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He Told Me, “Have You Ever Been i
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He says, “How high do you want to
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play cards all the time, but I didn
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I says, “You’re Slavonian, aren
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One morning George came up to the h
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I thought, “All these bastards ha
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The government can do some funny th
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never heard anything, Dad. They had
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out behind the church instead of as
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flogging in silence; oh renowned Yo
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dark civilization we endure. Teach
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though. I have arranged to talk to
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gangrene of the leg. I immediately
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ecord. 3. The ulcer on Juan’s leg
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John Peabody Harrington, April 29,
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Teheyapami Home Achiska: 1961-Prese
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luminous in the dark air, she is hu
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to me for that easy solution. My fa
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My lips are pressed so tightly toge
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But Buddy kisses my mama in a way t
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earth, bruised. And after my family
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What if it doesn’t kill him, what
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unwrapped, coming loose, unleashed
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kitchen knife—from my house, ride
Page 227 and 228: cost, but doesn’t transform. I fi
Page 229 and 230: want, though. Innocence; the almost
Page 231 and 232: calluses formed on my fingers from
Page 233 and 234: safe in Mommer’s kitchen. The pin
Page 235 and 236: In that cusp of time on the mountai
Page 237 and 238: disappearance at every turn. If I
Page 239 and 240: I am of the seventh generation sinc
Page 241 and 242: Eventually the woman who gave birth
Page 243 and 244: stalks were watered generously each
Page 245 and 246: around the gopher traps she’d wat
Page 247 and 248: asked, pointing to two girls runnin
Page 249 and 250: about the girl without a mother, th
Page 251 and 252: oom several times in an hour to wra
Page 253 and 254: After a second he asks, “Is this
Page 255 and 256: times” without success. I know he
Page 257 and 258: walked the woods and pastures toget
Page 259 and 260: ear-view mirror as he saw that conc
Page 261 and 262: where it floated around for decades
Page 263 and 264: of arms and legs, mind and humor, h
Page 265 and 266: design together, complement the sha
Page 267 and 268: uried their subversive tongues. Now
Page 269 and 270: I try to write all this down, but w
Page 271 and 272: And he saith unto them, Follow me,
Page 273 and 274: to apply that first year. After all
Page 275 and 276: of Life does not—cannot—teach C
Page 277: ut not over here, and secret techni
Page 281 and 282: never occurred to any of us that Da
Page 283 and 284: want to use, the work of language r
Page 285 and 286: Mantuxite, mantuxite, It is true, i
Page 287 and 288: tourists, carry our ancestors out t
Page 289 and 290: Do you remember us? Do we look like
Page 291 and 292: of lumber, my father made bunk beds
Page 293 and 294: My father was pleased when I progre
Page 295 and 296: My father liked to cook. He was ver
Page 297 and 298: Sitting down to eat a meal cooked a
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Page 301 and 302: uneven circles, slung them one by o
Page 303 and 304: lack coffee that he’ll let himsel
Page 305 and 306: My father, however, had one piece o
Page 307 and 308: Power: Al Miranda Jr. and Deborah M
Page 309 and 310: undemanding, gentle if withdrawn. B
Page 311 and 312: tolerate bed-wetting, for example,
Page 313 and 314: I remember Little Al trying to cove
Page 315 and 316: I knelt down and pulled the soaking
Page 317 and 318: kept moving. It was the drinking, i
Page 319 and 320: “Is Al Miranda there? Midge Miran
Page 321 and 322: Alcohol worked on him like an evil
Page 323 and 324: even changed her surname to Ramirez
Page 325 and 326: eucalyptus trees, dust, and sweat.
Page 327 and 328: leather belt from his waist, doubli
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That was the first time I really un
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very end, our father was alone. Al
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one, take a breath, swim to the nex
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I need a song with guts. I need a s
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“I have substantial evidence that
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pair of socks in Southern Californi
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green suitcase up and over curbs an
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are, hairy skin gaped. Ay! Well, ha
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He risked a quick glance up at her
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Just as he straightened fully, suit
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confused but very happy mojo. He st
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ought a bag of cookies from the Hos
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(see the sample report to learn the
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Mission Project Worksheet Name ____
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Please, parents, try to refrain fro
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Dear 4th Grade Students and Parents
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fun and I can’t wait to see what
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World” “Art and literature and
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drawn toward a mysterious light whi
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landmark is Pico Blanco or Mt. Diab
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constructions that surrounded it, t
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Places of power are not tread on li
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stocks, flogging, whatever the padr
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Hand-drawn map of El Potrero, as it
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In 1852, seven years after Fructuos
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died unexpectedly in 1893, at the a
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years were ended with drunkenness.
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Perhaps it seems strange to others,
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uglier alternative, suggested some
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looked at us, but it didn’t come
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(probably six feet tall at the most
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foot—pale cream, clean, nothing g
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from.” These are stories worth fo
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dandy; Al Miranda, Keta Miranda, an
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Smithsonian Institution, 1907-1957,
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most missions had two priests worki
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and Carmel: Eden by the Sea (Guilfo
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About the Author Deborah A. Miranda
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About Heyday Heyday is an independe
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Alice Guild; Walter & Elise Haas Fu
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