excerpts from Mohawk Trail by
Beth Brant, Firebrand Books: Milford, CT. 1985.
1978
I am wakened by the dream. In the dream my daughter is dead. Her father
is returning her body to me in pieces. He keeps her heart. I thought I screamed…Patricia! I sit up in bed, swallowing
air as if for nourishment. The dream remains in the air. I rise to go to her
room. Ellen tries to lead me back to bed, but I have to see once again. I open
her door. She is gone. The room empty, lonely. They said it was in her best
interests. How can that be? She is only six, a baby who needs her mothers. She
loves us. This has not happened. I will not believe this. Oh god, I think I
have died.
Night after night, Ellen holds me as I shake. Our sobs stifling the air
in our room. We lie in our bed and try to give comfort. My mind can’t think
beyond last week when she left. I would have killed him if I’d had the chance!
He took her hand and pulled her to the car. The look in his eyes of triumph. It
was a contest to him, Patricia the prize. He will teach her to hate us. He
will! I see her dear face. That face looking out the back window of his car.
Her mouth forming the words Mommy, Mama.
Her dark braids tied with red yarn. Her front teeth missing. Her overalls with
the yellow flower on the pocket, embroidered by Ellen’s hands. So lovingly she
sewed the yellow wool. Patricia waiting quietly until she was finished. Ellen
promising to teach her designs – chain stitch, French knot, split stitch. How
Patricia told everyone that Ellen made the flower just for her. So proud of her
overalls.
I open the closet door. Almost everything is gone. A few things hang
there limp, abandoned. I pull a blue dress from the hanger and take it back to
my room. Ellen tries to take it from me, but I hold on, the soft blue cotton
smelling of my daughter. How is it possible to feel such pain and live? “Ellen?!”
She croons my name. “Mary, Mary, I love you.” She sings me to sleep.
1979
After taking a morning off work to see my lawyer, I come home, not
caring if I call in. Not caring, for once, at the loss in pay. Not caring. My
lawyer says there is nothing more we can do. I must wait. As if there has been
something other than waiting. He has custody and calls the shots. We must wait
and see how long it takes for him to get tired of being a mommy and a daddy.
So, I wait.
I open the door to Patricia’s room. Ellen and I keep it dusted and
cleaned in case my baby will be allowed to visit us. The yellow and blue walls
feel like a mockery. I walk to the windows, begin to systematically tear down
the curtains. I slowly start to rip the cloth apart. I enjoy hearing the sounds
of destruction. Faster, I tear the material into strips. What won’t come apart
with my hands, I pull at with my teeth. Looking for more to destroy, I gather
the sheets and bedspread in my arms and wildly shred them to pieces. Grunting
and sweating, I am pushed by rage and the searing wound in my soul. Like a
wolf, caught in a trap, gnawing at her own leg to set herself free, I begin to
beat my breasts to deaden the pain inside. A noise gathers in my throat and
finds the way out. I begin a scream that turns to howling, then becomes hoarse
choking. I want to smash the world until it bleeds. Bleeds! And all the judges
in their flapping robes, and the fathers who look for revenge, are ground,
ground into dust and disappear with the wind.
The word lesbian. Lesbian.
The word that makes them panic, makes them afraid, makes them destroy children.
The word that dares them. Lesbian. I am
one. Even for Patricia, even for her, I
will not cease to be! As I kneel amidst the colorful scraps, Raggedy Anns
smiling up at me, my chest gives a sigh. My heart slows to its normal speech. I
feel the blood pumping outward to my veins, carrying nourishment and life. I
strip the room naked. I close the door.
[1985]
Biography taken from University
of Minnesota - Voices From the Gap http://voices.cla.umn.edu/artistpages/brantBeth.php
Beth Brant is a Bay of Quinte Mohawk from the Tyendinaga Mohawk
Reservation in Ontario, Canada. Her paternal grandparents moved from the
reservation to Detroit, Michigan, where Brant was born in 1941. Her mother was
white (Irish-Scots) and her father was Mohawk. Because her mother's family
disapproved initially, at least, of her marriage to an Indian, the Brants went
to live with the father's family in Detroit.
The racism experienced from her mother's side of the family may have
been one of Brant's first experiences with it. Addressing racism is one theme
that appears often in Brant's writing. In the essay "From the Inside
Looking at You," from Writing as Witness: Essay and Talk (1994), Brant
asserts "when I use the enemy's language to hold onto my strength as a
Mohawk lesbian writer, I use it as my own instrument of power in this long,
long battle against racism. "
Brant did not begin writing until 1981, when she was forty years old.
The story of how Brant came to begin writing is significant to another theme
found in all her writings: being Native. It speaks to her Mohawk heritage and,
on a larger scale, her respect and beliefs in the connectedness of land,
spirit, people and animals. Brant tells the story in the essay "To Be or
Not To Be Has Never Been the Question," which also appears in Writing as
Witness: Essay and Talk (1994). It is well worth repeating in depth.
According to Brant, she was driving through Iroquois land with her
partner, Denise. As they were driving, an eagle "swooped in front of our car.
. . He wanted us to stop, so we did. " Brant then got out of the car and
faced Eagle: "We looked into each other's eyes. I was marked by him. I
remember that I felt transported to another place, perhaps another time. We
looked into each other for minutes, maybe hours, maybe a thousand years. I had
received a message, a gift. When I got home I began to write. "
Brant was published the same year she began writing, an incredible
accomplishment as any writer who wants to be published would recognize. The accomplishment
is made somewhat more incredible by the fact that Brant dropped out of high
school at the age of 17 so does not have the "advantage" of a
traditional Euro-American education. But any lack of "proper
training" is more than made up for in Brant's abilities as a writer. Her
"gift," as she calls it, has won her several awards and honors. In
1984 and 1986, Brant was awarded grants from the Creative Writing Award from
the Michigan Council for the Arts. The Ontario Arts Council awarded her a grant
in 1989. She was honored by the National Endowment for the Arts in 1991. In
1992 Brant earned an award from the Canada Council Award in Creative Writing.
Brant is multifaceted, both as a person and as a writer. As a person,
Brant is identifiable as a Mohawk Indian, a lesbian, a mother, a grandmother,
an activist, and a feminist. When Brant dropped out of high school at the age
of 17, it was to marry. She had three daughters and then became a grandmother.
Her marriage ended in divorce after fourteen years. In another essay in Writing
as Witness: Essay and Talk called "Writing Life," Brant describes her
marriage as being lived out "in anger, violence, alcohol, hatred. "
The marriage was very abusive.
In 1976, Brant met Denise Dorsz, the woman who was to become her
partner. As of 1994, Brant and Dorsz had been together for eighteen years. In
the essay "Physical Prayers," which also appears in Writing as
Witness: Essay and Talk, Brant offers a glimpse into her own discovery of being
lesbian: "In my thirty-third year of life I was a feminist, an activist
and largely occupied with discovering all things female. And one of those
lovely discoveries was that I could love women sexually, emotionally, and
spiritually - and all at once. " Brant goes on to write that being lesbian
makes her a more complete person, "and a whole woman is of much better use
to my communities than a split one. "
Brant is as complex of a writer as she is a person. As a writer, Brant
is the author of poetry, short stories, essays, and critical essays, in
addition to being an editor, speaker, and lecturer. Brant's first book, Mohawk
Trail (1985), is a collection of poetry, short stories and essays - many of
which are autobiographical. Brant's second book, Food and Spirits (1991), is a
collection of short stories. As is the case with Brant's other works, the main
characters in these stories are all Native, most are women, and all face
adversity in one form or another.
In 1994, Brant published another collection, Writing as Witness: Essay
and Talk. The contents of this book include essays and writings that are based
on (or were the basis of) speeches or lectures she has given. It is in this
collection of writings that the themes, style, and issues most important to Brant
are well represented. Several of the essays and "talks" from the book
have been mentioned throughout this essay. Other writings in the book include
the essay "Anodynes and Amulets. " Here, Brant discusses racism
through the exploitation of Native American spirituality. The essay is a
criticism of the "new-age" religion, which Brant suggests has
stereotyped/idealized Native Americans, in addition to "borrowing"
some Native spiritual aspects. Brant writes, "I long for a conclusion to
the new-age religion, and in its place, a healthy respect for sovereignty and
the culture that makes Nationhood. We do not object to non-Natives praying with
us (if invited). We object to the theft of our prayers that have no psychic
meaning to them. " In short, Writing as Witness: Essay and Talk captures
the essence of Brant and her work.
In addition to her own writing, Brant has also been the editor of
several books and collections. As an editor, Brant is known for her
groundbreaking achievement for the book A Gathering of Spirit: A Collection by
North American Indian Women, first published in 1984 as a special issue of the
periodical Sinister Wisdom, then published in book form in 1988. A Gathering of
Spirit was the first anthology of its kind. It involved all Native American women--from
contributors to editor--and it brought Brant national recognition. Other
editing projects for Brant produced another collection of Native writings in
I'll Sing Til the Day I Die: Conversations with Tyendinaga Elders (1995), and
an issue of the annual journal Native Women in the Arts: Sweetgrass Grows All
Around Her (1996), co-edited with Sandra Larounde.
In addition to her own publications and editorial projects, Brant's
poems and stories have appeared in a wide range of books, such as Living the
Spirit: A Gay American Indian Anthology (1988), Best Lesbian Erotica 1997
(1997), a new book edited by Linda Hogan, Deena Metzger, and Brenda Peterson,
Intimate Nature: The bond Between Women and Animals (1998), as well as in
numerous magazines, periodicals, and other anthologies that are Native,
feminist, and/or lesbian in content.
The opening quote for this essay captures much of what Beth Brant and
her writing are about. Brant is able to take her complexities as a person and
turn them into honest, straightforward writing that comes in several forms:
stories, poems, essays, short stories, even lecture notes. Her themes are often
about Native peoples, women, lesbians and gay men, and family, and she often
addresses issues such as racism and homophobia with a directness that cannot be
ignored.
There is one more aspect of Brant's writing that has not yet been
discussed here. It is the idea that words are sacred. In the Preface to Writing
as Witness: Essay and Talk, Brant begins by writing, "In putting together
this collection. . . I hope to convey the message that words are sacred. . .
because words themselves come from the place of mystery that gives meaning and
existence to life. " Brant not only believes words are sacred, but in the
essay "Writing Life," she states that writing is medicine: "I
was able to use writing to heal a wound that was very deep and festering. I was
angry - writing brought me calm. I was obsessing about the past - writing gave
me insight into the future. I was in pain - writing cooled the pain. . . "
To Brant, words are sacred, and writing is healing. These are fitting
sentiments for a person who was instructed by an eagle to write.
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