2002-08-04|2:02 p.m.
I often think about what I would be like if I were born as myself in ancient times. For the sake of making make believe possible, I just assume that because I am more Native American than anything else that I can place myself in that setting.
I take what I have read and learned in school of the Native American tribes. I imagine either the harsh desert tribal lands or the thickly overgrown, wintry forests of the more northern tribes. Or I skip all that and imagine I�d be from the more central Americas and have helped carry stones to make the pyramid-like temples of Guatemala. I wonder if I�d be a story teller, a mother, a wife, or have died early on. Would I have danced in ceremonies or sang songs? I wonder if my nervous self-possession would leave me handicapped or if my temper would leave me banished. I wonder if my subordinate attitude would rile the leaders or if I would have been one of those leaders. Or would I be nothing that I am now? And I�d be someone different altogether?
Then, I imagine what I�d look like. Most likely, I�d have long dark hair. And like my summers on my family�s farm, my exposure to the sun would make my skin rich and dark. My face might be weathered looking by 30. Many teeth might even be missing by my early 20�s. And I imagine the most dreadful thing of all�
what I�d look like without tweezers.
Ok, so really that might not be so bad. But, if I did not groom those beasts you wouldn�t think me beautiful would you?
And above all, I wonder, would I be happy. Am I struck with sadness inevitably? Or am I misplaced? Has European Imperialism destroyed my destiny? Has my local Starbucks destroyed the nights spent with my extended family in a long house drinking herbal teas? I�ll never know, no matter how much I imagine. I am here.