Native American Poem
Grandfather Cries
Charles Phillip Whitedog
Grandfather, do you know me?
I am your blood.
The son of your son.
I come to ask you a question Grandfather.
Grandfather, don't you know me?
Can I stop being Indian now?
There are others that want to be Indian,
And if they can start from nothing,
I should be able to stop from something?
Grandfather, don't you know me?
Grandfather, I don't look like you.
I don't know what you know.
It would be easy for me to hide behind my paler skin.
No one would know the pain I feel,
Or see the tears I cry for your Great Grandchildren.
Grandfather, don't you know me?
Grandfather, look what I have done to our world.
Mother Earth is on her knees.
The Snake and Owl rule the day.
I don't understand the language you speak Grandfather.
Grandfather, don't you know me?
Grandfather, I want my Pepsi, Levi's and Porsche too.
I want to go where the others go,
And see the things they see too.
I don't have time to dance in the old way Grandfather.
Grandfather?
Grandfather, why are you crying?
Grandfather, why are you crying?
Grandfather, please stop crying.
Grandfather, don't you know me?
Native American Thesis
In the poem Grandfather Cries by Charles Philip Whitedog, the author uses imagery, symbolism and repetition to convey a tone of intense sadness that the grandfather feels over the loss of his grandson to the white man’s culture.
Reflection
I chose this poem for the reason that it displays an emotion of sorrow from the grandfathers view point of sorrow of the loss of his heritage and culture in his grandson. I believe that the main point of this poem is to show the loss that the grandfather feels from the loss of his grandson, for that is what it is, he has lost his grandson. This piece represents native americans for the fact that the main goal for the American government was to convert native americans to become white in all but skin.
Journal Entree
January 3rd, 1869
I fear that the end has come, I know that although the people can win battles. I have seen that the white man wins wars, with the find of the yellow stone in our people's hills, the white men seem to go crazy and I know that not even all the tribes gathered together could not defeat the white man, for no matter how many they lose there will be more. Nearly all the young braves have died and the only ones left are the old and the too young, I wonder whether the other tribes fall the same. I have talked to the spirits and looked into the future and all I see brings me great sorrow. I wonder how long it will take.
