War and consumerism killed Christmas
By Ivan Star Comes Out
Native Sun News Today Columnist
nativesunnews.today
Like every other person on this earth, I grew up with warm memories of Christmas.
Looking back at my life though, it is as if my life was predestined by the unknown. I did my best to stay the course by making the “right” choices but the events in my life were just too powerful. It is as if someone else had determined or paved the path to where I stand today.
First there was the warm comfy feeling closely associated with Christmas at the reservation boarding school, Holy Rosary Mission. “Christmas break” was when we got to go home for about a week. For ten years, I arrived at the school in late August and usually did not see my parents until Christmas, so the idea of seeing them again was very comforting.
Then, due to the racially motivated atmosphere at the school, I became a high school dropout in May 1965. My youthful holiday fascination began to dissipate at that point. I spent two holidays (1965, 1966) at home, which I recall to be memorable but different. Then I enlisted in the military in August 1967 with a personal plan for my future, to go on to higher education upon completing my enlistment.
My first leave was at home in early December before my deployment to Germany in early 1968. Then for my second military Christmas, later that year, I was in the northernmost tactical zone known as “I Corp” in the Republic of South Vietnam. That year ended my fond youthful memories of Christmas as well as my plans for college.
I turned 19 on December 4 and was exposed to an actual firefight on the same day. Then in late May, as Chi-com .51 caliber rounds tore up the ground beneath me forcing dirt into my nasal cavities, eyes, and mouth, and in the grip of absolute terror, I screamed “Mom!”
Momentarily, I had envisioned my mother and felt the freezing cold of white sparkling snow around her. I came home in late November of 1969.
Then, in 1971, a beautiful young Lakota lady married me. Through the years, she tolerated my sullen disposition and kept our union together and I am grateful to her for all of that. Initially, the wife would cook a huge Christmas meal for the family and we would go all out to “celebrate” the holiday in accordance to Christian protocol.
Lakota is our first language but we also realized that was all we had. We could not truthfully call ourselves Lakota because we knew very little of our ancestral worldview, culture, and history. So, following our instincts, we made a conscious effort to relearn all that was taken from us in that church boarding school.
It was not hard for us to see how much we had conformed to the new world order. Gradually, we became aware of the sharp and hostile cultural contrast affecting our lives and we eventually quit doing Christmas. If we celebrated, it was for our grandchildren but even that is awkward for us.
Three years later, in 1972, The Great Plains’ sub-zero temperature ended my mother’s life just days before Christmas. Immediately, the idea that my life was spared and exchanged for my mother’s became prominent.
I fought it vainly as it consumed my mind and soul. Those warm feelings of Christmas and my pre-war innocence have been elusive since. The once meaningful Christmas songs are now mournful. I tried not to let it affect my family, relatives, and others around me.
I played the part for decades and shed tears of regret, anger, and loneliness during this holiday. I regret having enlisted and angry for the way my life turned out and feel alone because of the premature deaths of my mother and my dear friends.
Ivan F. Star Comes Out can be reached at P.O. Box 147, Oglala, South
Dakota, 57764; via phone at 605-867-2448 or via email at
mato_nasula2@outlook.com.
Copyright permission Native Sun News Today
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