Zitkala Sa

While reading Zitkala Sa’s narrative I got many impressions. My first impression came during the first chapter title My Mother. Here, I got the impression that the Native Americans not only had a strong dislike for the Palefaces (Anglo-Americans), but also feared them a bit. “She pointed to the hill where my uncle and my only sister lay buried. ‘There is what the palefaces has done! Since then you father too has been buried in a hill nearer the rising sun. we were once very happy. But the paleface has stolen our lands and driven us hither. Having defrauded us of our land, the paleface forced us away’” (1009). This exerpt gave me this impression of fear and hate towards the white settlers of early America.

The next impression I got was in the third chapter titled The Beadwork. In this chapter I got the impression that the youth of the tribe really held their elders up high and respected them on the utmost level. “I remember well how we used to exchange our necklaces, beaded belts, and sometimes even our mochassins. We pretended to offer them as gifts to one another. We delighted in impersonating our own mothers. We talked of things we had heard them say in their conversations. We imitated their various manners, even to the inflection of their voices. In the lap of the prairie we seated ourselves upon our feet; and leaning our painted cheeks in the palms of our hands, we rested our elbows and knees, and bent forward as old women were most accustomed to do” (1012). I interpreted this as showing that the older one is in the tribe, the higher they were held amongst members and the wiser they were.

One last impression I got during Sa’s essay was that of respect for the dead. I got this impression from the fifth chapter titled The Dead Man’s Plum Bush and also from the quote I used earlier from chapter one. This impression was one that really jumped out at me, even more so than the obvious one’s such as the respect for nature that can be seen throughout all the chapters. Zitkala’s mother would not let her pluck a plum from a plum tree because buried underneath this particular plum tree was the remains of a fallen warrior. “’Never pluck a single plum from this bush, my child, for its roots are wrapped around an Indian’s skeleton. A brave is buried here. While he lived, he was so fond of playing the game of striped plum seeds that, at his death, he set of plum seeds were buried in his hands. From them sprang up this little bush’” (1015). This shows the true spirit of the Native American which is respect for your family, your tribe, the dead, and nature, which I believe is encompassed throughout these few chapters we read of Zitkala Sa’s work.