mwheelus
01-27-2008, 05:37 AM
I don't know if this is an appropriate place to do this, however I just wanted to introduce myself. I am Monica Wheelus from Texas, and I am a mixed woman that includes known root ancestors of Scots, German, English, Spanish, and varied NA people that I still haven't unraveled completely. I have enjoyed so many threads on here so far, but one that began about t-shirts got my attention.
My great grandmother was one of the "lost" Kickapoo people that were living on the border of Texas and Mexico. There are still some there now, but the general population takes them to be Mexicans with good cheekbones. :D She was born in 1891 and married at 14 taking some of her brothers with she and her husband to central Texas. She never made it back to Eagle Pass/Piedras Negras to see her family again. She told my father of her people when he was a child, and as her Alzheimers progressed later in life she told me about them.
I have worked hard to get her family history, so some day they can be included among the records of the Kickapoo. Because her immediate family all died by 1930 it has been deemed impossible by most but we will see. I have been called a "wannabe", my father was accused of trying to get money from the Kickapoo people. We went to see the Kickapoo in Oklahoma for help in person, with our names and dates that coincided with theirs, and were told we were nothing more than common Mexicans. Nothing wrong with being of Mexican heritage but it was still painful to not get a chance to talk after making all efforts to follow the rules they gave us. I was 18 so it was quite a blow to who I knew I was. Now I realize the man we met may not have spoken for the whole Kickapoo people, but his distaste for "our kind" was very clear. I haven't given up yet, but I pick my battles more wisely now. It left quite an impression on me at 18 though.
While working in college I met people from Colorado working for a geophysical company, and the supervisor told me everyday for a month that he couldn't wait for the day I met Aaron. I was 20 & single so I began to get excited myself.:rolleyes: The day came and in walked 3 of the most beautiful human beings I had ever seen. All Indians from northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado. I instantly felt a pull at my heart. Not love at first sight but a connection like no other I had ever felt. I had never said a word about my native heritage to anyone. Aaron was one of them and immediately asked me who my people were. It shocked me speechless.
Over the next year he taught me a lot about his people, the Chiracahua Apache, and told me how he was treated growing up because his mother was a halfbreed and his father was "pure". The crew supervisor that teased me for a month had been his "white" foster dad and raised him since he was 12. Aaron told me that hearts know only love not lineage and that no matter how I got treated to never give up finding me. That was a wake up call to me. As an adult he went back to the reservation as often as he could to pursue his hunger for everything he could learn about his people. It inspired me to find out more about myself.
I began to listen and write notes when my mother's family talked about growing up in Oklahoma and their dad was German and not much said about their mother. They were closet Indians so to speak. I began my first try at genealogy and found part of myself in Oklahoma and among the relatives of Cynthia Ann Parker in Texas. It was very eye opening to find out that I really did have a reason for feeling like I did. I found several "certified" Cherokee relatives from my mother's family, and I met the distant cousins to my father that ultimately are the reason I am here. The Goins family.
I eventually lost contact with Aaron in late 1997 when he went to Canada for work, but the instant connection and his words were always in my heart. I talked about him for the first time to my mother, grandmother and great aunt when we road tripped to Santa Fe this past summer. My grandmother and great aunt finally opened up on that trip and it got very interesting. Especially when I heard my name called by none other than my old friend at the square in Santa Fe. I really do believe now that nothing in life is by chance.
I may have documented relatives that can prove they are NA by birthright but it doesn't make me less Indian than them. It is a matter of heart, oral history and self-knowledge for me. My families on both sides lived when it wasn't en vogue to be native. I have known my whole life there was more to family history than hushed whispers and I have made it my goal to find all of it I can.
My great grandmother was one of the "lost" Kickapoo people that were living on the border of Texas and Mexico. There are still some there now, but the general population takes them to be Mexicans with good cheekbones. :D She was born in 1891 and married at 14 taking some of her brothers with she and her husband to central Texas. She never made it back to Eagle Pass/Piedras Negras to see her family again. She told my father of her people when he was a child, and as her Alzheimers progressed later in life she told me about them.
I have worked hard to get her family history, so some day they can be included among the records of the Kickapoo. Because her immediate family all died by 1930 it has been deemed impossible by most but we will see. I have been called a "wannabe", my father was accused of trying to get money from the Kickapoo people. We went to see the Kickapoo in Oklahoma for help in person, with our names and dates that coincided with theirs, and were told we were nothing more than common Mexicans. Nothing wrong with being of Mexican heritage but it was still painful to not get a chance to talk after making all efforts to follow the rules they gave us. I was 18 so it was quite a blow to who I knew I was. Now I realize the man we met may not have spoken for the whole Kickapoo people, but his distaste for "our kind" was very clear. I haven't given up yet, but I pick my battles more wisely now. It left quite an impression on me at 18 though.
While working in college I met people from Colorado working for a geophysical company, and the supervisor told me everyday for a month that he couldn't wait for the day I met Aaron. I was 20 & single so I began to get excited myself.:rolleyes: The day came and in walked 3 of the most beautiful human beings I had ever seen. All Indians from northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado. I instantly felt a pull at my heart. Not love at first sight but a connection like no other I had ever felt. I had never said a word about my native heritage to anyone. Aaron was one of them and immediately asked me who my people were. It shocked me speechless.
Over the next year he taught me a lot about his people, the Chiracahua Apache, and told me how he was treated growing up because his mother was a halfbreed and his father was "pure". The crew supervisor that teased me for a month had been his "white" foster dad and raised him since he was 12. Aaron told me that hearts know only love not lineage and that no matter how I got treated to never give up finding me. That was a wake up call to me. As an adult he went back to the reservation as often as he could to pursue his hunger for everything he could learn about his people. It inspired me to find out more about myself.
I began to listen and write notes when my mother's family talked about growing up in Oklahoma and their dad was German and not much said about their mother. They were closet Indians so to speak. I began my first try at genealogy and found part of myself in Oklahoma and among the relatives of Cynthia Ann Parker in Texas. It was very eye opening to find out that I really did have a reason for feeling like I did. I found several "certified" Cherokee relatives from my mother's family, and I met the distant cousins to my father that ultimately are the reason I am here. The Goins family.
I eventually lost contact with Aaron in late 1997 when he went to Canada for work, but the instant connection and his words were always in my heart. I talked about him for the first time to my mother, grandmother and great aunt when we road tripped to Santa Fe this past summer. My grandmother and great aunt finally opened up on that trip and it got very interesting. Especially when I heard my name called by none other than my old friend at the square in Santa Fe. I really do believe now that nothing in life is by chance.
I may have documented relatives that can prove they are NA by birthright but it doesn't make me less Indian than them. It is a matter of heart, oral history and self-knowledge for me. My families on both sides lived when it wasn't en vogue to be native. I have known my whole life there was more to family history than hushed whispers and I have made it my goal to find all of it I can.