A Parable Of The American Indian

"BLUE JAYS"

Once upon a time, there was a family who moved into a remote area of wilderness in search of a new place to call home. The family consisted of a fairly young couple and their two children - a young son, and their even younger daughter. The family had traveled a long distance to find an area they could settle on, and finally chose the crest of a medium sized hill to build their cabin. Soon after the work of building and getting set up was finished, the boy began to explore his new surroundings. He investigated a stream that tumbled and flowed over large flat stones at the base of the hill they had built on. He hiked short distances into the dense forests that surrounded his wilderness home, and found many new places to play. The boy was pleased with the great abundance of plants, animals and landscapes there were to see. Then, one day, the boy spied a huge oak tree at the top of one of the nearby hills. It was twice as big as all the other trees surrounding it. The boy went to inspect the tree, thinking this would make a perfect lookout point, and a place that he could claim as his own private fort. When the boy reached the tree, he strained his eyes to see the upper branches, and couldn't wait to climb to the top. However, no sooner had he grabbed the lowest branch, than a squawking blue jay began to flap it's wings and dive down at the boy. The boy waved his arms to scare the bird away, but soon another blue jay appeared, and began the same actions of protest against the invasion of their nesting tree. Frightened and confused, the boy dropped to the ground, and began to back away. He spotted a nest high in the tree, and knew the birds were trying to protect their home, along with their newly hatched baby blue jays. Eventually, the boy gave up, and left the birds to once again take perch on the branches of their prized domain. The boy returned to his home, and told his parents of his encounter with the blue jays. His mother and father listened, but said nothing, leaving the boy to figure out on his own what to do about the birds. The boy could easily see the tree from the hill where his house was located, and the more he studied the giant oak, the more he wanted to climb it, and claim it for his own. Finally, one day the boy gathered up his courage, and headed off towards the tree, determined to climb to the top, and this time, to not let a bunch of birds prevent him from doing so. As soon as the boy reached the tree, he heard the same familiar sounds of blue jays screeching in protest. But he was determined, and grabbed the lower branch again. Even more young blue jays from the previous season's hatching joined in with their parents attempts to scare the boy away from their home. Soon, the boy found himself being dive bombed by the parent birds, each time flying mere inches from the boy's head. More determined than ever, the boy pulled himself up onto the first branch, and the birds became even more frantic with fear for their nest of hatchlings. The sound of the protesting birds could be heard all throughout the forest, and soon the boy's younger sister headed towards the noise to investigate what all the commotion was about. When the girl neared the tree, she saw her brother waving and swatting at the blue jays, but she stood safely out of sight behind another tree to secretly see what was happening. She watched as her brother dropped to the ground, and began angrily throwing rocks, and swinging broken branches at the attacking birds. She suddenly covered her mouth in shock as she saw her brother finally strike one of the diving birds, and knock it to the ground. The boy quickly pounced on the dazed bird, and began beating it thoroughly with a stick. At that moment, the larger male bird swooped down onto the boy's head and began pecking frantically at his scalp in an effort to save his mate. The boy immediately reached up and grabbed the thrashing bird, throwing it as hard as he could against the trunk of the massive oak. The bird fell to the ground, broken and defenseless, but struggled to hobble away to safety. But the boy, still filled with rage, attacked the bird with another pointed stick, stabbing it repeatedly until the lifeless bird was just a lump of bloody, blue feathers. The boy then turned his attention to the first felled bird, but seeing that it too was dead, he picked it up to be placed next to her mutilated mate. The boy then looked up into the branches of the forest at the rest of the birds still squawking down on him. However, the remaining birds, seeing that their bigger and stronger parents had been subdued by the boy, continued their audible protests from the safety of distant branches. After catching his breath, the boy decided that he was too shaken and tired from the battle to deal with the tree for now, and left the site to return home. He never did notice his little sister, still peering with shock from behind a nearby tree. When the boy reached home, his mom questioned him about the blood on his hands, and he explained to her how he had been savagely attacked by some stupid buzzard birds in the forest, and that he was forced to kill them out of self-defence. The mother studied the boy's face with suspicion, but said nothing. The next day, the boy returned to the oak tree, and found the lifeless bodies of the two blue jays in the exact spot where he had left them the day before. He had hoped that some scavenger animals would have found them during the night and eaten them, so he wouldn't have to see their bodies again. But, there they were, laying quietly, almost in silent protest, refusing to allow the boy a peaceful victory, even in their death. Then, the boy was surprised to discover another lifeless body only a few feet away from the original birds. It was the small, down covered body of one of the blue jay nestlings. As the boy moved closer to inspect it, he noticed another body, and then another, until he had found a total of four small yellow-billed blue jay hatchlings. They had all fallen to their death during the night after their parents had failed to return to feed and comfort them. The boy gathered up the other dead blue jays, and placed them in a small pile next to their parents. The boy observed the motionless family of birds with an uneasy feeling inside, but it was more a feeling of guilt, rather than regret. Then the boy heard a rustling in the leaves behind him, and turned to see his younger sister quietly watching from several feet away. He screamed at his sister to go away, quickly covering the birds with leaves to hide their bodies. He told her to never return to this place, that it was his private spot, and that she wasn't allowed to ever go there. The boy's sister turned and hurried off down the hill, her eyes filled with tears from the vision of dead baby birds, which lingered with horror in her young mind. The small girl had always admired and respected her big brother for his strength and bravery, but at that very moment, she hated him terribly for what he had done. Fearing that his sister would return later to discover the family of dead blue jays, the boy decided to bury the birds from sight, concealing the truth of his vengeful actions forever. He proceeded to dig out a shallow grave at the base of the giant oak tree. With the hole only a foot or so deep, the boy placed the six dead birds, arranging the little ones around their parents. That uneasy feeling began to return, and he quickly filled the grave with dirt, finally covering the bare spot with more leaves to erase all signs that the birds ever existed. Then the boy began his long anticipated climb up the tree, noting more blue jays in the neighboring trees, but they were much too leary to do more than squawk from a distance. Eventually reaching the upper most branches of the towering oak, the boy looked out over the neighboring hills and valleys for as far as his eyes could see. Though the view was breathtaking, the thing the boy noticed the most was all the other birds that were flying at his same height, which only reminded him again of what the privilege to climb the tree had ultimately cost. On the way down, the boy spotted the empty blue jay nest, and that too reminded him of the uneasy feeling he was struggling with. The boy dislodged the nest, and upon reaching the ground, quickly ripped it into small pieces, scattering the remains under the surrounding leaves and ground litter. Later that night, the boy's sister confronted her brother, telling him that she knew what he had done, that she had seen him kill the birds, and that she also saw the resulting deaths of the other baby birds because of his actions. The boy denied that he had done anything wrong, and insisted to his sister that he had to kill the attacking birds for his own safety, rubbing the top of his head, as proof, at the spot where the male bird had pecked his scalp. But when the young girl tried to point out that the birds were only protecting their home and family, the boy became defensively angry and stormed off, refusing to talk to his sister about it any more. The next day, the boy still couldn't put the blue jay issue out of his mind. Now, even the sight of his sister reminded him of the uneasy feelings that haunted him. Half out of stubborn defiance, and half out of an attempt to convince himself, the boy found a scrap piece of cedar shingle, and scratched out a marker to place on the grave of the birds. With his knife he carved: "Here lay the killer birds that attacked me for no reason." The boy placed the wooden marker over the spot where the birds were buried. After awhile, the boy began to forget about that day at the tree, and the uneasy feelings soon began to fade away as well. But from that day forward, the boy despised all blue jays, and each time he spotted one, he would instinctively throw rocks at it, just so he wouldn't have to be reminded of the family of blue jays he had once killed.

As time passed, the boy and his family grew older. Eventually, the boy and his sister became adults, and the original homestead was divided up equally between them. The two never discussed amongst themselves the truths concerning the deaths of the blue jay family, the oak tree, or the grave beneath. But the girl, now with children of her own, had never forgotten the events of that fateful day in the forest. Though she hated the memory, she saw no useful purpose in forcing the issue with her brother at this late date. Whenever he would begin bragging to others about his heroic actions with the birds, she would just quietly turn and walk away. Over the years, all the young family members had heard the story - a sort of family legend after enough passing time - of the attacking blue jays, and how the brave young boy, now long since passed away, had bare-handedly fought off the vicious birds in order to keep them from knocking him out of the top of the great oak tree, thereby saving his own young life. It wasn't until many generations had passed that another young boy from the family's lineage happened upon a musty old book while digging through the attic of his grandparents home on the hill. It was the undiscovered diary of his sixth generation grandmother, neatly tucked away under the false bottom of an antique jewelry box. The boy carefully scanned through the fragile pages until he happened upon a child's drawing of a crested bird. He read the date at the top of the page: "April 23, 1883." As the boy read the young girl's account of the blue jay family, he remembered the stories of his ancient ancestor, and of the infamous blue jay attack. Discovering for the first time the true account of events from that day, the boy felt both confused and saddened. He soon made the short hike to where the old oak tree still stood, thinning with dead branches, but still very much alive. There at the base of the trunk, he also found what was left of the severely weathered and decayed piece of wood, remembering well the stories of what had once been carved onto it. The boy left quietly after a long period of soulful thinking, but he returned several days later carrying something in his hands. It was another wooden plaque, only this one was created using his father's hand tools and paint. He stuck the plaque into the ground where the original piece of wood had been, using the metal bar he had attached to it. Standing back, the boy then read the plaque to himself. "Here rests a brave family of blue jays, who gave their lives defending their home, and the ones they love." The boy lifted his gaze up into the lofty branches of the old oak tree, and was startled to see a blue jay cautiously watching his every move. There, on the branch above her, was a well built nest, with just the faintest glimpse of bobbing yellow beaks inside. That night, the boy shared his find of the heirloom diary with the rest of his family. From that day forward, he never failed to visit the old oak tree during every return visit to his grandparents' home, and each time carrying a bag full of bread crumbs, seeds, and fresh cut fruit with him. He also never failed to tell the true accounts of the ancient blue jay story to everyone in the family.

This story was conceived by, written by, and is the sole property and responsibility of: GARITH

Copyrights © Garith - Nov. 2003 I hope this story and web-page can help open awareness to the plight of the Native American People. Between the lies, apathy and hatred towards them collectively from the American population and government, they have suffered longer and harder than almost any other race on earth. And for what? What is their great and horrible crime that is worth 500 years of suffering and death? They are persecuted because they were here FIRST, living on a land that we wanted for ourselves. They were taken advantage of because of their basic trusting nature, and because they purposefully chose a simpler, more basic style of life, and one that didn't include WMD. They were hunted down for resisting our attempts to destroy their livelihoods and culture. They are hated for possessing the most instinctive of human and animal behaviors... that of defending their homes and loved ones from danger. We have made promise, after empty promise, offering peace and security for their families and homes, only to have their promised dreams crumble like dust with each new generation of white leaders that comes along. We steal their lands, and then angrily complain because they dare to resist our self-serving demands. We take away their homes and their familiar ways of living, and then point an accusing finger of blame towards them for being poor, sick or depressed. We massacre whole villages of men, women and children, and then expect them to sit passively by and do absolutely nothing about it. Are we this sick and callous as a nation of people that we can't and won't be satisfied until every last Native American is either dead, or assimilated into our own materialistic society? What have they ever done that you yourself wouldn't have done for your own home and family, had you been in their place? Isn't it time we stopped the lies and selfish acts of false pride... and do what is Right for a change? When are we as a country at whole ever going to have the courage and honor it takes to look in the mirror, and face the true meaning of 'civilized' and 'savage'? Isn't it time we wise up and realize that Might will never make Right? Think about it... and then DO something!! Check out the news concerning Native people, and then get involved in opposition to the political actions going on across the country against the various Native Tribes and reservations. Find the Native American human resources, and help to put a hungry Native family back on it's feet. Search out the Anti-Indian hate groups, and then help to counteract their damaging lies and propaganda. Make your own web page, and help to re-educate the rest of America concerning the truths about the Native People and American History. Do something... Anything!! But don't let this country ultimately be guilty of the genocide of several diverse cultures of indigenous people, just because a few people want it, and the majority of people don't know or care. What our ancestors did, we can't undo... but what you choose to do is forever, and completely up to you. We can't bring back the people who have already been lost, but we can certainly put an end to further needless suffering. And if nothing else, please pass this web-page on to your family and friends. It is my hope and dream that every American, from every walk in life, has the opportunity to read the truths about the Native American people. It is long past time for us to dispel the intentionally created myths and propaganda about drunk, lazy, selfish, savage Indians. There are still, (as always), government officials who are looking to renege on past treaties and agreements, in order to acquire even more from the already struggling Native American Tribes. There are wealthy and influential people in this country who are looking at the Native people and their Indian Reservations with dollar signs in their eyes, hoping to find some way to steal even more, and turn it into some personal or corporate profit. Doesn't it seem just a little bit strange how those few outspoken individuals who keep screaming about the American Indians having some unfair advantage over the rest of the U.S. population, are almost always individuals who have between 1,000 and 100,000 times more financial asset than the average Native American they're trying to take more money away from? There are Native Tribes of unique cultures and lifestyles that are so desperately close to losing some aspect of their beauty, anything from their language, customs or traditions, all the way to the very essence of magical secrets that have bound them for thousands of years with nature, and the circle of life. Many of the Tribal elders are the last remaining carriers to this specific and unique knowledge. Please help me to preserve something that is far greater than we could ever hope to create. We don't need another parking lot. We don't need another shopping mall. We don't need another chemical plant, cattle ranch, or amusement park. We have plenty of strip-mining quarries, 8-laned tollways, skyscrapers, multi-billion dollar sports arenas and international airports. What we need now is what the Native Americans have to offer the rest of the world in the way of knowledge and wisdom for a simpler, more practical, meaningful way of life. And we, the American people, NEED to get our own dignity back... by putting an end to 500 years of terrorism and holocaust against the Indigenous Native People of North America. Please help!!!

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