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November 26, 2003 - NY Times
Pilgrims, No Thanks in Mohawk Country - By MICHAEL WINERIP
OGANSBURG, N.Y.
CECILIA KING'S first grade class had just finished a lesson on Thanksgiving and Ciara Skidders-White knew exactly why it was a big deal. "We get three days off," she said.
In the primary grades, the bulletin boards were full of fat, smiling, crayon-colored turkeys. Everywhere you looked in the upper grades there were essays on giving thanks. "It's my favorite holiday," said Gage Bigtree, a sixth grader. "We celebrate at my aunt's or my grandmother's. There's lots of food, a big turkey. The whole family gets together. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing every year."
Thanksgiving is important at St. Regis Mohawk Elementary, a public school close by the Canadian border where all 450 students are Mohawk. But it is not the same Thanksgiving that most of America will celebrate.
There is not a picture of a Pilgrim in the school. Pilgrims? Mrs. King's first graders looked blank when asked by a visitor. Pilgrims? "Never heard of it," said Quentin Thomas.
Pilgrims? "Don't know that story," said Travis Thompson, 12. "Don't know what it is."
Pilgrims? "I learned a little bit about them for the state fifth-grade social studies test," said Krystian Mitchell-Lazore.
Pilgrims? "I heard a little bit," said Gage. "At first when the Europeans came, they stole the corn and squash from the natives' fields."
They were surprised when Barry Montour, their sixth-grade teacher, explained that at many schools, students put on Thanksgiving pageants, dressed as Pilgrims and Indians. "They thought that was strange," Mr. Montour said. "One of my kids said, `Isn't that a little racist, white kids dressing like Indians?' "
Those who had heard the Pilgrim story seemed willing to forgive. "You could say, `The Pilgrims were the beginning of our downfall,' " said Irving Papineau, the principal, who is Mohawk. "And had we known what was coming, it might have been better to let them starve. But I feel the spirit of the Indian people is to see the glass as half full."
Krystian, a sixth grader, agreed. "I do think most natives forgive the Pilgrims," she said. "It's from the past and we can put it behind us."
It is a fine balance, teaching American history at a public school so different from the mainstream, a place where so much American history is taken personally and negatively. These are young children, and while their teachers — many themselves Mohawk — do not want them to be naïve about history, they do not want them embittered, either.
And so a fair amount of time is spent focusing, not on what the Pilgrims did, but on the richness of the Indians' own culture and history. When Mrs. King and Carole Ross attended this school as children in the 1950's and 1960's, students were barred from speaking Mohawk; today, the two women work full time teaching the Mohawk language to every child.
Students learn that centuries before the Europeans arrived and held the "first Thanksgiving," the Mohawks were celebrating nine Thanksgivings a year, commemorating the first running of the sugar maple sap; the first thunder (and warming) of spring; the first strawberries; and the great harvest — the ninth Thanksgiving and the one that coincided with the Europeans' Plymouth celebration.
This week, each class, from kindergarten to sixth grade, went over the Thanksgiving Address, recited at the start of all ceremonies and played each morning at dawn on the Mohawk Reserve radio station, CKON. They give thanks for the earth, the plants, the fish, the waters, the birds, the nighttime and daytime suns. In first grade, Mrs. King had them name all the types of water they could give thanks for, from bottled water to the St. Lawrence. At Gage's Thanksgiving celebration, his family will recite the address together. "If we make one mistake — like my sister messing up, we have to start all over," he said.
In sixth grade, Mr. Montour told them the story of Handsome Lake, a Seneca who warned back in the 1700's that if people did not honor the water, the fish would float to the top and the rivers would catch fire. "They thought he was insane," Mr. Montour said. "But it came true."
Mr. Montour explained that while the General Motors, Alcoa and Domtar factories nearby had provided jobs, they had not honored the river, discharging excessive levels of fluoride and mercury. "Until the early 1980's, people would travel here for the fishing camps," Mr. Montour said. "Now the government warns not to eat more than one fish a month from the St. Lawrence, and if you're a woman having babies, no fish."
Mr. Montour, 41, lives on the reserve and knows both how powerful and divisive history can be, even among Mohawks. His school is divided between Christian Mohawks, whose ancestors were converted by Roman Catholic missionaries, and traditional Mohawks, who celebrate their religion in the longhouse. He was raised traditional and did not celebrate the American Thanksgiving or Christmas. As a young teacher, his first job was at the Freedom School, a small, private Mohawk-language immersion school. "I pushed for us to have school on Thanksgiving. I thought it was bizarre we'd take that day as a holiday."
Mr. Montour was taught that the American military had no right to draft men from the Mohawk Nation. "My father's attitude," he said, "was you fight for your people and your causes, you don't take on someone else's causes."
But after Sept. 11, his older son surprised him and volunteered for the Army. "I was dead set against it," Mr. Montour said. "But when I saw his mind was made up, I went with him to the recruiting station. He's my son." This year, for Veterans Day, Mr. Montour invited a Mohawk elder, Don Cook, to tell the children the story of the seven Cook brothers who fought in World War II.
As for the American Thanksgiving, Mr. Montour does not celebrate at his home, but his wife grew up in a Mohawk family that does celebrate.
"It's important to her, so we go to my mother-in-law's family for Thanksgiving," he said. "It's nice. And if someone's dating a non-native, everyone jokes, `We've got our token Pilgrim.' "
For Mr. Montour, love and family have had great power, changing the man and the teacher.
Pilgrims, No Thanks in Mohawk Country - By MICHAEL WINERIP
OGANSBURG, N.Y.
CECILIA KING'S first grade class had just finished a lesson on Thanksgiving and Ciara Skidders-White knew exactly why it was a big deal. "We get three days off," she said.
In the primary grades, the bulletin boards were full of fat, smiling, crayon-colored turkeys. Everywhere you looked in the upper grades there were essays on giving thanks. "It's my favorite holiday," said Gage Bigtree, a sixth grader. "We celebrate at my aunt's or my grandmother's. There's lots of food, a big turkey. The whole family gets together. It's a once-in-a-lifetime thing every year."
Thanksgiving is important at St. Regis Mohawk Elementary, a public school close by the Canadian border where all 450 students are Mohawk. But it is not the same Thanksgiving that most of America will celebrate.
There is not a picture of a Pilgrim in the school. Pilgrims? Mrs. King's first graders looked blank when asked by a visitor. Pilgrims? "Never heard of it," said Quentin Thomas.
Pilgrims? "Don't know that story," said Travis Thompson, 12. "Don't know what it is."
Pilgrims? "I learned a little bit about them for the state fifth-grade social studies test," said Krystian Mitchell-Lazore.
Pilgrims? "I heard a little bit," said Gage. "At first when the Europeans came, they stole the corn and squash from the natives' fields."
They were surprised when Barry Montour, their sixth-grade teacher, explained that at many schools, students put on Thanksgiving pageants, dressed as Pilgrims and Indians. "They thought that was strange," Mr. Montour said. "One of my kids said, `Isn't that a little racist, white kids dressing like Indians?' "
Those who had heard the Pilgrim story seemed willing to forgive. "You could say, `The Pilgrims were the beginning of our downfall,' " said Irving Papineau, the principal, who is Mohawk. "And had we known what was coming, it might have been better to let them starve. But I feel the spirit of the Indian people is to see the glass as half full."
Krystian, a sixth grader, agreed. "I do think most natives forgive the Pilgrims," she said. "It's from the past and we can put it behind us."
It is a fine balance, teaching American history at a public school so different from the mainstream, a place where so much American history is taken personally and negatively. These are young children, and while their teachers — many themselves Mohawk — do not want them to be naïve about history, they do not want them embittered, either.
And so a fair amount of time is spent focusing, not on what the Pilgrims did, but on the richness of the Indians' own culture and history. When Mrs. King and Carole Ross attended this school as children in the 1950's and 1960's, students were barred from speaking Mohawk; today, the two women work full time teaching the Mohawk language to every child.
Students learn that centuries before the Europeans arrived and held the "first Thanksgiving," the Mohawks were celebrating nine Thanksgivings a year, commemorating the first running of the sugar maple sap; the first thunder (and warming) of spring; the first strawberries; and the great harvest — the ninth Thanksgiving and the one that coincided with the Europeans' Plymouth celebration.
This week, each class, from kindergarten to sixth grade, went over the Thanksgiving Address, recited at the start of all ceremonies and played each morning at dawn on the Mohawk Reserve radio station, CKON. They give thanks for the earth, the plants, the fish, the waters, the birds, the nighttime and daytime suns. In first grade, Mrs. King had them name all the types of water they could give thanks for, from bottled water to the St. Lawrence. At Gage's Thanksgiving celebration, his family will recite the address together. "If we make one mistake — like my sister messing up, we have to start all over," he said.
In sixth grade, Mr. Montour told them the story of Handsome Lake, a Seneca who warned back in the 1700's that if people did not honor the water, the fish would float to the top and the rivers would catch fire. "They thought he was insane," Mr. Montour said. "But it came true."
Mr. Montour explained that while the General Motors, Alcoa and Domtar factories nearby had provided jobs, they had not honored the river, discharging excessive levels of fluoride and mercury. "Until the early 1980's, people would travel here for the fishing camps," Mr. Montour said. "Now the government warns not to eat more than one fish a month from the St. Lawrence, and if you're a woman having babies, no fish."
Mr. Montour, 41, lives on the reserve and knows both how powerful and divisive history can be, even among Mohawks. His school is divided between Christian Mohawks, whose ancestors were converted by Roman Catholic missionaries, and traditional Mohawks, who celebrate their religion in the longhouse. He was raised traditional and did not celebrate the American Thanksgiving or Christmas. As a young teacher, his first job was at the Freedom School, a small, private Mohawk-language immersion school. "I pushed for us to have school on Thanksgiving. I thought it was bizarre we'd take that day as a holiday."
Mr. Montour was taught that the American military had no right to draft men from the Mohawk Nation. "My father's attitude," he said, "was you fight for your people and your causes, you don't take on someone else's causes."
But after Sept. 11, his older son surprised him and volunteered for the Army. "I was dead set against it," Mr. Montour said. "But when I saw his mind was made up, I went with him to the recruiting station. He's my son." This year, for Veterans Day, Mr. Montour invited a Mohawk elder, Don Cook, to tell the children the story of the seven Cook brothers who fought in World War II.
As for the American Thanksgiving, Mr. Montour does not celebrate at his home, but his wife grew up in a Mohawk family that does celebrate.
"It's important to her, so we go to my mother-in-law's family for Thanksgiving," he said. "It's nice. And if someone's dating a non-native, everyone jokes, `We've got our token Pilgrim.' "
For Mr. Montour, love and family have had great power, changing the man and the teacher.
