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Sun Was High But The Journal

I think that was the point. She was pretty and I liked that, but that white girl could never understand me. She loved it when I told her about eagles and mountain lions and things like that. She wanted me to do a rain dance. I told her it rained last week. I did not stay in the city long. I never did. I understand the sky

When it is blue, it is happy

When it is not blue, I like that too

When the white is on the mountains

The wind is cold

And the sky turns grey

We burn wood for the fire

And wrap ourselves in blankets

and All the stray dogs gather

I left that girl. I went back home, to the land under the sky, where every day I could walk in the arroyo, and up into the hills. I just liked to be in the world...

Not somebody else's idea of what my world was, but my world as it really was.
In this piece, I use the structure and writing style of Ceremony to capture the same theme, reflecting the Native experience of traveling between two worlds, in particular the strangeness that comes from interacting with white people. I use natural imagery to signify being at home, and the city is the foreign world of white people. The white girl is a metaphor for the world outside the pueblo that misunderstands that Indian, and even when benevolent is a foreign and confusing experience, mirroring Tayo's experiences in dealing with the wider world -- a sense of wonder and at the same time a sense of either not knowing what one's place in the world is or having white people tell you what your place is through their behavior.

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