Friday, November 18, 2011

"Indian Children" by Annette Wynne

Today's post is prompted by a comment submitted to me by Brendan, a regular reader of AICL. The comment was submitted via the "Contact AICL" button in the tool bar above.

In 1919, Annette Wynne's For Days and Days: A Year Round Treasury of Child Verse was published. In it is a poem that is easily found today. That poem is "Indian Children." You can find it, as Brendan did, on teacher lesson plan sites. When I started looking around, I saw that you can also find Youtube videos of children reciting it.

The poem tells us that American Indians no longer exist. You could read the poem as a lament, or you could read it as a celebration. Either way, it doesn't matter. The bottom line for Wynne, and, I suspect, for teachers who use it today, is that we are no longer here. We are, of course, alive and well.

Here it is:
Indian Children
by Annette Wynne

Where we walk to school each day
Indian children used to play-
All about our native land,
Where the shops and houses stand.

Note "we" in the first line and "our" in the third line. Neither word includes Native children. Both refer to white children and their families who now claim the land. What does a teacher tell her students about where those Indian children went? And, what does she tell them about how that land became theirs?

And the trees were very tall,
And there were no streets at all,
Not a church and not a steeple-
Only woods and Indian people.

References to religious structures and houses and shops, but not banks. Or saloons...  A pristine, but incomplete image.

Only wigwams on the ground,
And at night bears prowling round-
What a different place today
Where we live and work and play!

If read as a lament, there is sadness that there are no longer wigwams and bears. No mention, in that stanza, of the children mentioned in the first stanza. If read as a celebration, there is gladness that there are no longer wigwams and bears.

A troubling poem, no matter how you slice it. Do you know someone who uses it? Do you know how and why it is used?


Another thought: The title doesn't fit the poem! It isn't about Indian children. Can you suggest a new title for it?


15 comments:

anahuy said...

yep....how bout b.s.

Debra said...

As a child I had to memorize it for school and have loved it since. So with those child's eyes I saw a world that existed not just prior to me being born but that adventure it would have been to be a part of it. A world where forests covered much more then they do now. A child's eyes do not always see some staunch dark portrait that adults might. I think that this is largely true of this poem. It is, I think, a portrait without the finger pointing good or bad.

Rose said...

When I was a little girl about 52 years ago,my Italian (from Italy) grandmother would put me on her lap and sing ce.sera ce sera and also recite that poem to me....It always stayed on my mind as a good feeling about my grandma spending time with me.......I feel so sad,I never really thought about the words,I really didn't remember the words until i just looked it up....I never thought about my grandma as racist.I guess,i will just remember her singing to me....

Anonymous said...

I remember singing this poem in music class as an elementary student. I also enjoyed this song and still remember the words. I do not see this as not having Native American children or people around. I understand it as originally the land was occupied and owned
by Native Americans exclusively ,with their cultures, but now it has changed. I'm so dishearted by people having a negative connotation with everything that has been said or written. Please have an open mind.

Anonymous said...

I am 71 years hummm young and I learned this poem when I was in Grade 1 or 2. It has always left an impact on me and I could back then picture how the landscape was before Toronto, (where I lived) became a city. I love this poem.

marjorie said...

I was born in 1954, and clearly remember learning this poem as a young child in Ontario, Canada. We didn't just recite it though. We sang it and I can still remember the tune perfectly.

George Nixon Shuler said...

Thank you for posting this. As a token 62½ year old fat white guy, I had never heard of it until my wife recited it to me when we were engaged. She is something like 33 percent Cherokee and Choctaw more or less (not enrolled) and was well aware of her Native American heritage on both sides, but apparently some of her siblings never told their own children they were (16.5%?). I told a nephew and he said "I never heard that before." In part due to racism of the day people often tended to hide Native American roots. As to whether the poem is a celebration or a lament I would have to say both. Yes, it certainly conveys white-is-right ethnocentrism by the author, however ignorant she was of this continent's original settlers and the suggestion such "Indian children" are no longer around has to be kind of like my late Great-grandmother's and Great Aunts' expressive but mostly gentle Southern racism (if you've read or seen "The Help" you know just what I mean). To my wife, knowing her own heritage I would have to say it resonated with her because she knew of her family's ancestry and found it positive. As exurban residents of towns, we all recall, or think we can, how life was in the past, and the "Indian Children" of the title are simply the Hitchcockian "MacGuffin" to tell the story. Thanks for providing some excellent food for thought. I'm going to cite you when addressing multiculturalism from now on!

Sheila Beers said...

I too learned this poem as a child in the 1950s in Indiana, which means "land of Indians." Several years ago I gave a copy of the poem to a local historian who specialized in the Native American civilization in our part of North America, and he included it on the title page of his book. I do not think the message is negative. In fact, I think it speaks to the common heritage of all people who have lived in North America, whether Native Americans or white settlers. The poem also speaks of the change various civilizations have brought about in one geographical location.

Nancy Reaume said...

I also learned this as a child, living in Ontario, Canada and it always made me sad....like something was lost. My father told me that we have native heritage in our family but it's a few generations back. There are members of my family who were very upset with me when I asked questions and said it was not true. I have also had many people tell me they can see it to a degree in my features and especially in baby pics. I will take the word of my father. I have thought of this poem many times over the years and again today so I come searching for it to read to my husband. The poem still makes me sad but I want to share it.

Anonymous said...

I was the only black girl in a class of about twenty. It was 1960 and racism was the norm. I just assumed that I was at the bottom of the social ladder. I was Ok with that. I didn't know any better. One day two American Imdian kids came to my class. There was no changing rooms in those days. Except for the occosainal trip to the gym. But I will never forget these two frightened children. They both shared a desk and would often cling desperately to each other. They were never introduced to the class and the nun never addressed or called their name. No one spoke or played with them. I would like to say that I took the higher ground. Instead I was actually and silently relieved that someone in the class was even lower, socially, than me. How could I know this ar the tender age of 7? It felt good to now longer be the lowest of the low. All of my life I wondered what happened to the Indian children who came to St. Joseph School in Milwaukee WI in 1960. I would want to apologize and say they were innocent frightened children who should have been embraced- by me especially. They only lasted a month. One long and painful month- if that long.
The poem Indian Children, I memorized when I was 7. This poem was wrong to me on so many levels. We watched Cowboys and Indian movies. Sadly the Indians always lost. I was pained by this poem. Anger, silent screams! Denorah

Jean Mendoza said...

Denorah, your experience, though it occurred many years ago, shows so clearly and painfully the multi-layered effects of bigotry on children -- including the effects of having to memorize something that doesn't feel right, and to watch someone be harmed because of "who they are", as the child you were was harmed. And it shows how deeply racism has been embedded in the (mis)education process, forever. I found myself hoping that some adult had spoken kindly or respectfully to those two Native kids -- and to you -- but they did not. And instead of books that reflected your humanity, or that of those Native children, you were given That Poem to commit to memory. As your story shows, bigotry isn't always loud; sometimes it hides in the silences. And induces silent screams.

Unknown said...

I HAD TO RECITE THIS POEM IN THE THIRD GRADE AT OLIVER HIGH SCHOOL IN SEAL, ALABAMA, I DIDN'T CARE I WENT TO A ALL AFRICA AMERICAN SCHOOL, I KNOW WHO I AM.

zybo2 said...

I am 52. I learned this poem when I was in elementary school as part of local history. I never considered the poem racist or about genocide. I thought of it as a description of how differently people lived. The line "and the trees were very tall" does seem to lament the destruction of the environment more than the death and displacement of Native Americans, but as a child ( who had yet to learn those lessons), the poem made me think about how cool it would have been to live with tall trees. I guess because one of my classmates was part Native American as was my 4th grade teacher, I didn't see it as much about the death of Indian children, but rather the end of living that way

Catheryn Christie said...

I teach this song to my children. I am a white mother of 4. History is important both good and bad. I don’t want my kids to think America was an easy land for all. I want them to know the dark, bitter, evil side as well as the blossom and blessings of America. We need it all to appreciate and respect! My mother was a German with a Cherokee Indian father. She was called kraut living on army bases and in American schools she moved here at 10. Her father was an Army Sergeant. They traveled and lived on all different military housing campuses. My Cherokee grandfather and German grandmother loved America and wanted us too as well. My grandmother didn’t speak English when she married. Some gracious military wives tried to teach her but she learned mostly from television. She battled mistreatment from people everywhere from schools to grocery stores but when she studied our history and what makes America what it is, she decided to take American citizenship. She was the most patriotic person around but she reminded us to not forget history and that America had some darkness to not forget. My grandfather’s mother was an Indian princess on a reservation in Ohio. We were taught the songs and this one as a tribute to history and what once was. We were also taught that in spite of bad history American citizens are one nation in many parts that make it special! Because of that, through a German and a Cherokee I have many friends from all cultures. We just grew up together appreciating our differences and the uniqueness we each brought with diversity and decades of pain. I’m so grateful for my grandmother being way before her time. She reminded us to be better and not bitter!

Jean Mendoza said...

From Jean Mendoza:
Catheryn Christie, My first thought: I hope you also share with children a lot of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction by Native writers. They need to understand that Native people are still here. You mention Cherokee relatives. Have you read, or shared At the Mountain’s Base by Traci Sorell? Mary and the Trail of Tears by Andrea Rogers? Mankiller: A Chief and Her People by Wilma Mankiller? Classified: The Secret Career of Mary Golda Ross, Cherokee Aerospace Engineer by Traci Sorell? The Reluctant Storyteller and Look, Grandma! Ni, Elisi! by Art Coulson? All of those writers are Cherokee Nation citizens. Good stuff there, not filtered through the eyes of a non-Native poet who doesn't want to confront the truth.

It seems like you’re saying that the “Indian Children” song exposes children to the dark, evil, bitter side of American history. But I wonder what it tells them, exactly? Does it reveal the violence, dispossession, and trauma that are actually part of the “darkness” you refer to?

Where did those children go? What caused them to leave their homes? As Debbie said in her original post, those are essential follow-up questions about a song built on the “vanishing Indian” stereotype.

Catheryn, your earnest words about your German grandmother are evidence of how important family stories can feel. A lot of people in the US who have always lived as non-Native have been told they have some Native ancestry, and you might be surprised at how many have heard that the ancestor was a Cherokee princess.

But the Cherokee political structure didn’t have European-style royalty, so they didn’t have princesses. The Cherokee Nation has genealogists who trace ancestry through the Dawes rolls. If you decide to trace the family story of a Cherokee princess from a reservation in Ohio, it would be good to double-check to get more specifics, because there are no federally-recognized Indian reservations (such as Cherokee) within the borders of what is currently called Ohio.

I, too, have German ancestry. Some of those ancestors suffered discrimination, especially around both World Wars. Hard as it may have been for them, it was nothing like what my husband’s Muscogee forebears faced for centuries as they fought to keep their homes and their entire society, and to rebuild again after being forced to leave. Legislation, the judicial system, and the entire settler-colonizer project aligned against them. But those truths get left out of stories being told by the likes of that “Indian Children” song, and why we treat it as a problem.