A ball game

Watch the fire, enjoy the hot dogs, be in the smoke, live.


A long time ago, so long ago Indians didn’t know how to write, or read, or had any laws, and did nothing more than scratch around in the dirt, Coyote was bored. She had played all the games that the Indians knew, like ball and dream walking, and she knew all their stories, like how Sky Woman fell, and how Nanabush flooded the world because of those silly snakes. She knew how to change shape and look like an Indian, or a flower, or a canoe. She even spent time just sitting still so she could learn how to watch like the Indian because they seemed to spend a lot of time noticing everything. They certainly noticed when Coyote tried anything fun! Coyote even learned how to use all the plants and animals around her so she could maximize her fun and always be able to bound about like she really liked.

Bored and lonely, Coyote curled up on the nearest hot rock in the sun and panted at the world around her. It certainly was tiring knowing everything! She grumbled and growled that the world had become boring, and suddenly she leaped to her feet, “I know! I’ll make something! I watched Sky Woman make land! I can do that too!” So she started to scrape about at the rock with her claws to get some good dust.

“You wouldn’t like it if I scratched you like that!”

Coyote jumped up off the rock and looked around, “Who said that! Where are you? If you’re invisible I’ll sniff you out!” She started snuffling about, but couldn’t smell anything besides what she could see. So she sniffed harder. *SNORT* All that got her was a sneezing bout. She didn’t much like that.

“I’m right here Coyote. How can you not see me?”

“Oh I see you. You’re hiding behind that bush,” Coyote lied. She was hoping she could trick whoever it was to tell her where they were.

“I was under a bush once. The shade was nice.”

“Oooooh, then you must be just over that little hill, how do you talk from so far away?”

“I’ve been on a hill. It was nice because I could see far.”

“Oh well then you must be flying up high, that’s why I can’t sniff you out! The wind is taking it away.”

“I’ve never flown. I rolled once. Didn’t care for that.”

Coyote got very angry now, “You’re teasing me! You must be a bug, so tiny that I can’t see you, so then I’ll just ignore you like I would any bug in my fur. Well maybe I’ll scratch you off!”

“You already scratched me. I told you I didn’t care for it.”

“I scratched you?” She sniffed at the rock, and gave it a playful bat, “Are you under the rock?”

“No.”

“Are you on the rock?”

A soft sigh came from the air, “Do you see anything on the rock? And what could be left after such a scratching.”

“Then you’re behind the rock!” Coyote pounced! And landed on nothing but the dirt. “Wow you must be fast!”

“For someone who is bored and knows everything you’re pretty damn stupid.”

“Hey!” Coyote pouted and sat back, scratching at her fur, right by the ear like she really liked, it made her feel better after being insulted, “I’m not stupid. You’re just using a magic I don’t know yet. Show me!”

“There is no magic in this. I am Grandfather. How can you not see me?”

Coyote scrunched up her eyes and peered around, “No magic, I scratched you, and you’re right there? I don’t believe you!” She stood up and prowled about, “I think you’re lying to me, prove you’re who you are!” She thumped her rump down and took on her most impressive posture, snout in the air. “You will tell me or I’ll bite you when I find you!”

“That would break your teeth, even if they are strong.”

Coyote was starting to get frustrated. This didn’t make any sense to her and she knew everything! She barked and growled again, “I’m getting angry.”

“You would make a bad Indian Coyote, right now you’re not even a bad Coyote. You should have stayed a flower.”

This really got to Coyote, because she kind of liked being a flower, no one noticed you and you got to listen in on everything, and no one suspected the flower when their roots started to tangle things up, “That was mean! You’re not a very good thing; you’re just being mean to me for no reason!”

“No reason? You scratched me. And I’m not being mean. I’m pointing out the obvious.”

“Then why call names?”

“I didn’t call you a name, I said you were not paying attention. Now, if you’re done being so self-absorbed and will sit still, I’ll tell you a story you don’t know.”

This got Coyote to pay attention. She sniffed again, trying to figure out where the voice came from, and then peered around one more time, “Ok. Well if it is a new story.”

“It is an old story, but new to you.” The wind picked up and new scents filled Coyote’s nose. Burning smells, harsh and oily seemed to stick in her nose, she felt cramped and cold and hot and tired and scared and happy and exhilarated all at once. “There was a man, he was the son of the creator. He came to his people and told them he would make a sacrifice for them all. He gathered together twelve men to help him tell his story, but few believed him.”

Coyote scoffed and started to get up, “Oh I know that story, it just hasn’t been told yet. They get all the weapons and throw them under a tree.”

“Sit down.” The voice made Coyote sit down. “This is not that story, but they are alike. Soon many people started to listen to the Son of the Creator. So many people listened that other men, the men who ruled, started to feel threatened. So they killed the Son. But that was part of the Son’s plan. That was his sacrifice.”

Coyote scoffed again, “I would never die so other people could live. Besides, I can come back!! I learned that from Bear.”

The wind changed direction, and new smells, soft smells of spices and salt soon filled Coyote’s nose, and it got her hackles up and made her calm and she cried while she grinned. “Where are those coming from?”

Grandfather seemed to chuckle from the earth itself, “Those are where you need to go Coyote. Maybe you know everything here, but you know nothing of there.”

“Where is there? Is it far? Do they know how to play ball or change shape?”

“No, they don’t play ball or change shape. They made a world based on the teachings of the Son. They revere his gift from the creator and try to live as he lived. You should see what they know.”

Coyote was intrigued, and forgot she was bored. “I will go and meet these people of the Son. They seem interesting and the smells are new. I like new smells. Even if they’re bad smells sometimes they have good things to eat.”

“Well then you have to go very far towards the sun, but there is water that way. Or you can go very far to the north but then you have to ask the North Wind to let you pass.”

This irritated Coyote, because she remembered when Sky Woman came down and everything was water, and she didn’t like the way the water made her beautiful fur stick down and smell funny. Swimming wasn’t very fun. And going north would be hard because the last time Coyote went north she made the North Wind very upset when she tried to make it warm. Silly wind thought it should always be cold but Coyote wanted to see it warmer. Either way she wasn’t happy about the choices. “Are you sure I can’t go south or west? West is nice, I like west.”

“No Coyote, we know the folks in the west already. They came here in small boats and left us some of their things and left with some of ours. And they are not the people of the Son. And south, well you would have to die eventually to go that far south.”

Coyote didn’t want to die, and she really wanted to meet these people of the Son. So she sat down and lolled out her tongue. She thought best when she could taste the air. The wind changed again, and the new smells were gone and it was the same old boring way it was.

“Grandfather, when I meet these people will they play ball with me?”

Silence greeted Coyote. Well, she thought, I guess he left, from wherever he was hiding. She doubted he was really a grandfather, probably Mosquito playing a trick on Coyote. Oh how she hated his bites. She scratched again, tongue bouncing about as she thought of how to get to the people of the Son.

She remembered that a long time ago some big hairy people had come in long wooden boats and met with the coast people. They didn’t get along so Coyote didn’t get to see if they played ball or not, but he remembered that they seemed to like fish. Big fish.

“Well I might as well start walking to the West at least and then when I get to the water, I’ll probably have thought of something by then.” Coyote was good at thinking of things, and sometimes those things became real. Maybe if she thought enough of a way to get across the water it would be waiting for her when she got to the big water.

The trip took a long time and along the way, Coyote got distracted. She teased one group of Indians with some dream walking, and another group she made sick until they learned how to sweat it out. She didn’t mean to make them sick but apparently eating Coyote dung made to look like meat made Indians sick.

When she got to the water she had forgotten to think about what to do about getting across the water so of course, there was no way to get across just waiting for her. This annoyed her so she decided to get some Indians to play ball with her. Playing ball with Coyote isn’t very fun, unless you’re Coyote. She changes the rules a lot, and always wins. But one little boy who lived by the big water was willing to play with Coyote. He said his name was Oskinikins and he liked to play ball, even if he lost. So the boy and Coyote played, dancing about, and Coyote taught the boy the rules, and how the rules changed with each new throw. Quickly the boy learned how to anticipate what Coyote would change the rules to so eventually he won a game. This made Coyote a little bit mad, but it was so fun to play ball and for it not to be boring that she only nipped at Oskinikins’ heels a bit.

“Hey Oskinikins, do you remember the big hairy people?”

“Oh yes, they were very mean. They wanted fish and tried to take our fish.”

“Did they play ball?”

“No, they only played war. They killed my uncle, so my father killed that hairy man.”

“Oh I don’t like killing,” Coyote was a big fan of living forever, “did they leave any directions on how to get back where they came from?”

“Oh yes, they left a map, and my father still has it. But there is a big ugly swimming snake in the water to the east on their map, so no one has tried to follow it.”

“Show me!”

Oskinikins took Coyote to look at the map, and Coyote studied it carefully, “Oh you’re right, that is a big ugly swimming snake. I bet a monster that big could drink the whole big water!” The boy nodded in a frightful manner.

Coyote suddenly had an idea, “Oh that stupid Grandfather! He made me think I would have to swim. Well I will have to but not as me!” With that Coyote started to change shape into the big swimming snake from the map of the large hairy people.

Oskinikins was alarmed, “Don’t change here, you’ll crush the whole village once you get big enough!” The boy quickly gathered up the changing parts of Coyote and rushed to the big water. With a huge heave, he threw Coyote off a cliff and into the water. Coyote had forgotten where she was and happily fell into the water, waving a big flipper as she splashed down, “Bye bye Oskinikins! Thank you!”

Coyote started swimming about, getting so large, she almost beached herself, but then remembered she could move like a snake too. She slithered off into the depths and started off to the east, following the sun and the stars. As big as she was it didn’t take her long to swim across the big water.

As she floated about, she started to see big huge shapes floating above her, at first she thought they were whales, and once she surfaced, she saw they were huge canoes, with large tents stretched out on poles and ropes. She watched in amazement as people, pale people, ran about on the ship, tying off ropes, shouting at one another, and generally trying to keep the big tents from falling down. Coyote found one that had a big chain slung down from it, with a huge hook at one end. What a silly way to fish, she thought, with the hook on the ground. But she needed to learn about these people, who certainly looked like the people of the Son as Grandfather had described them. She turned into a mouse and scurried up the chain and into the huge canoe.

Inside she met other mice, but they were rather simple creatures, who only seemed to care about food and staying away from the people. The mice told Coyote they were called humans. Funny word that. It almost sounded like what the Indians called each other just mixed up. The mice also told Coyote that they couldn’t change shape. Coyote knew a lot of mice back home, she would trick them into playing ball before eating them, and they could all change shape.

Coyote thought it would be fun to learn how to be one of these people of the Son, so tried to change into a human. Instead of changing she pooped. The other mice laughed at her. Coyote was very angry at this so she tried to change into herself and eat the mice but all she did was poop again. This was very troubling.

“What are you trying to do?” Asked all the mice.

“I’m trying to change into a human,” answered Coyote.

“You can’t do that you’re a mouse!”

“No, I’m a coyote who changed into a sea monster that changed into a mouse.”

The mice laughed at Coyote, “You’re a crazy mouse! What’s a coyote?”

Coyote was very upset at this. She tried to change again, and once again, she pooped. There was nice a large pile of mouse droppings by Coyote. The other mice started to run away, “If the humans find all that poop, they’re going to look for us! Stay away from us you crazy mouse!”

Coyote was stuck. She didn’t want to be a mouse and she was pretty sure she couldn’t change back into something that could swim all the way back home, so she decided to find out if there was anyone who could help her change on the ship.

Many days passed. Coyote made a few friends with the mice, and taught them how to play ball. It was hard as a mouse because they had no ball, but Coyote taught them how to use their poop to do it so it kept the humans from finding it. And mice aren’t known for being all that clean. Coyote also listened to the humans and learned how they talked. They kept speaking of some new world that Carter was going to find and they would find lots of money. All these new words confused Coyote and scared her. She didn’t want to go to a new world. Sure she was bored, but she didn’t want to lose a way home.

After a while the big canoe found land and beached itself. Coyote’s curiosity got the better of her and she rushed off the boat and sniffed at the air. It smelled familiar! She knew this place! Oskinikins lived just a day or two north! Coyote tried and sure enough she changed back into herself!! She jumped about and laughed, thrilled to be home, even if it was boring, and happy to be able to change again, even if it meant she never got to see the land of the people of the Son.

But as it turns out the people of the Son came here. This couldn’t be their new world could it? Well if their world was new to Coyote, then perhaps her world was new to them. She was so happy she ran off to play with the Indians again.

After a while, Coyote started to hear stories of the people of the Son. How they learned how to live like Indians, but still couldn’t change shape. But she ran into some mice who told her that the mice from the boat learned how to change shape and now they were humans! They looked like a mix between the humans and the Indians. And they were teaching the humans how to play ball, but not with poop, with real balls. This infuriated Coyote, because the mice were horrible at playing ball and they always got the rules wrong and couldn’t figure out how the rules changed, and they cheated. They cheated really badly!

Coyote ran to see Oskinikins. Except he wasn’t called that, now he was called Inini. Coyote told Inini about his problem, “The mice are teaching the humans how to play ball, but they’re teaching it wrong! Can you go teach them the right way?”

Inini shook his head, “No, they don’t listen to me. I can’t get them to stop asking about what they need and how hungry they are. We give them all they need and they want more. They are stockpiling their food and they would have died, if not for us, but now they are taking too much. I fear they won’t ever listen.”

Coyote argued that was because they didn’t understand how to play ball, “If they knew the right way then they would listen!” Inini didn’t really believe Coyote, but thought he would try. He went to the humans and played ball with them, trying to correct the mistakes that the mice had taught them, but the humans just laughed, “Oh sure, you teach us a game and then keep changing the rules. Good joke.” It didn’t seem to help.

Coyote was very frustrated. She saw that the changes the humans brought to the game were making it worse and worse. It wasn’t fun to play ball with the humans. They always argued and changed the rules, and wouldn’t stop until they won. Even the Indians wanted to stop playing ball with the humans, but Inini counseled against this. He told the other Indians, “It just takes time. Look at how they listen now when they didn’t listen at all. In time they will join us where we are, but we have to wait. We know they will keep winning, but it isn’t winning that matters, what matters is that they will still play ball with us.” Others didn’t see the wisdom of this. The Kotas hated the humans and fought them just as hard as the humans fought them. Others moved away, some of Inini’s family with them, to get away from the humans. Others moved with the humans, listening to Inini’s words and kept trying to play ball with the humans.

One day, a long time ago, Coyote was bored with trying to teach ball to the humans. She flopped down on a rock, letting her tongue loll out so she could taste the air while she thought. “Maybe if I make something then it can learn how to play ball with me.”

“So did you meet the people of the Son?”

“Grandfather?! Where are you hiding again?”

“Silly Coyote, you don’t need to make something to play ball with you. You need to learn how to play ball like the humans. Then they will see you as a human.”

“But I’m a Coyote.”

“What does Inini call his people?”

“Anishinabe.”

“What does that mean?”

“The people.”

“What does human mean?”

“I think it means people.”

“What does it mean to be people?”

“I don’t know. I’m a Coyote.”

“Exactly.”


Artist Statement

I thought a lot about those three sections and all those questions. And a lot of them, I’ve written essays on them before. I thought about all I know about the Anishinabe, and their history and what it meant to me. I could not see how to answer those questions without writing what I’ve already written. It did not seem like I could answer them without crossing over paths I’ve crossed before. And I thought of what this history means to me, and how I see it. I’ve learned a lot in this class, a lot of things I feel will help me produce those things I need to do, but first, I need to understand one vital point that keeps eluding me. That history is not an artifact, it isn’t a part of a missing link of who I am, instead it has always been a part of me, but I’ve often refused to believe it. So how could I demonstrate that I understand what that history means to me?

There is no essay, no test question I can answer that will show that. Instead, it takes the language and ways of the Anishinabe to demonstrate that. And while I have not fully assimilated my own language, I have learned more about why I need to. To that effect, this story is disjointed, it is harsh, and uses terms and techniques that will make it feel awkward and clunky. Because it is done in English rather than Anishinabe, and for that reason alone it will seem out of place.

This story also touches on the part of me that is always an outsider. This year at the university, helping where I can, has shown me that there is still a significant amount of work that needs to be done in both the white and Indian world that will allow both sides to understand each other. I am told by the whites that I should be able to understand their position and help the Indians. The Indians tell me to talk to the whites. Both sides tell me I’m not a part of them and should be careful what I say to them. It has not heightened my sense of community. Except when I have participated in the ceremonies. Within those, things like my genetic make up are forgotten and a spiritual communion happens. That spirit, that ability to bring our spirituality out of the ceremony and use it in every day life is important, and again, I hope that message is visible in the disjointed aspect of this story.

The point, I suppose, of this story is to try to find that point of intersection. It is not a middle ground or even a compromise, instead, it is knowing that we can all play ball.