Being Native, In a Place With No Other Natives - Justin Henson

Yá’át’ééh,

        My identity as a modern Native American has been one that I feel has come out more openly than ever while being at Stanford. I’ve learned here that I can express myself openly, without the criticism/judgment of others. Growing up, I never got the chance to express myself as a Native American, due to the fact that I was the only Native American in my entire elementary, middle, & high schools. Being around other Natives/people of indigeneity has helped me realize that my cultural roots & upbringing is important to carry forward, and it’s why I’m apart of clubs like Diné club, AISES, SAIO, NIM (Natives in Medicine), etc. I want to proudly show who I am and my values.
          Before I was able to make this realization though, back when I was in the 8th grade, there was a time when I felt that I alone in my school. I felt this way because to me it seemed to me as if everyone else had their own group of friends that they could relate to; and I felt that my friends could never understand my cultural background. I still appreciated my own culture, but I hated feeling different from everyone else; and I especially didn’t like how the “trail of tears” or “the slaughter of my people” was always joked around with me. I supposed I felt segregated and discriminated from others, but what was I to do about it? I didn’t have any other Native American friends or relatives close to my age that I could relate to. I suppose this is why I became introverted around this time, which lingered a bit into the 9th grade. Honestly, for a long time I didn’t know how to respond about feeling like an outcast, but eventually, I asked my father if he had ever been in a similar situation.
          Now, my father is a strong and independent man who joined the military straight after high school, because he felt that he had to support his economically deprived mother and younger brother. He’s the sort of person who wouldn’t take any back talk, and would start a fight if he had to (in his younger days of course). He told me stories about how when he was younger he would get picked on for his last name “Mouse” (which his father changed to “Henson” because of how many fights he was getting into), and about how even in the military he would face blatant racism (to which he reported to his commanding officer).




            But what ultimately stuck with me, was when my father told me to embrace my Native American heritage not because it makes me special or distinct, but because it’s beautiful lifestyle that’s rapidly being lost throughout the years. He told me that his own connection to his Cherokee culture is fulfilling, and that it makes him feel that he’s a part of something great.
            I don’t think I was fully able to understand what my father told me until I began to become an active member of my Native American community myself. I began to pay attention to what my elders taught me, and began to take interest in going to Pow-wows (Native American social events where tribes come and share their culture, songs, commodities, and foods).