Firekeeper's Daughter

by Angeline Boulley

WAABANONG (EAST) IN OJIBWE TEACHINGS, ALL JOURNEYS BEGIN IN THE EASTERN DIRECTION.

New Normal, which is what I call what happens when your universe is shaken so badly you can never regain the same axis as before. But you try anyway.

When someone dies, everything about them becomes past tense. Except for the grief. Grief stays in the present.

The Seven Grandfathers are teachings about living the Anishinaabe minobimaadiziwin—our good way of life—through love, humility, respect, honesty, bravery, wisdom, and truth.

“It’s hard when being Native means different things depending on who’s asking and why,” he says. “And to some people, you’ll never be Native enough,” I add. “Yeah. It’s your identity, but it gets defined or controlled by other people.”

“Kindness is something that seems small, Daunis, but it’s like tossing a pebble into a pond and the ripples reach further than you thought.”

Why do all the liars find their way to me? Because all men are liars.

ZHAAWANONG (SOUTH) THE JOURNEY CONTINUES INTO THE SOUTHERN DIRECTION—A TIME FOR WANDERING AND WONDERING.

Walking through life with integrity means not deceiving yourself or others.

What if it’s a strength to love and care for someone you don’t always like?

“No guy should have that kind of power over you. No matter who he is or how much everyone adores him. Or how much you might still want him.”

Daunis, we don’t prove a hypothesis is true; we search for evidence to disprove a null hypothesis.

When you love someone, but don’t like parts of them, it complicates your memories of them when they’re gone.

Auntie told me once that a girl needs at least one grown man in her life who sees her worth as inherent. Values her just as she is, not dependent upon her appearance or accomplishments. Are Lost Girls the ones who received other messages about their value?

Grief is a cruel and sneaky bastard. You love a person and then they’re gone. Past tense. You forget them for an hour, a day, a week. How is that even possible? It happens because memories are fickle; they can fade.

“Need and love aren’t the same. Your need is ruining the love part.

Change comes even when we consciously try to avoid it.

Is it possible the heart can expand to hold love as well as all the complicated emotions?

‘Failure to plan means planning to fail.’

If you knew it was the last time you were going to see someone, would you say something profound? Would you share how much they meant to you? Would you ask any burning questions? Would you ask for forgiveness? Would you thank them?

‘Love honors your spirit. Not just the other person’s but your own spirit too.’

Real love honors your spirit. If you need a medicine to create or keep it, that’s possession and control. Not love.

You are fluent in a language when you dream in it.

Love is a promise. And promises you don’t keep are the worst lies of all.”

“I know the investigation can change things in a heartbeat, Daunis. But there are things that are certain in the world. The way I feel about you. And what happened last night.”

Jamie looks at me with something that mixes awe and reverence.

“Once we’re on the other side of this. Someday.” “Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he says. We both smile.

Everything has strings attached. Unintended consequences. The shove from behind that you never saw coming.

To be wise is to live with an abundance of sight.

Wisdom is not bestowed. In its raw state, it is the heartbreak of knowing things you wish you didn’t.

“Children are never to blame for their parents’ lives. Parents are the adults; we are the ones responsible for our choices and how we handle things.” She sits taller at the revelation. “If I’m in limbo, it’s because I chose to remain there. Even inaction is a powerful choice.”

“But my nokomis always said you can’t be around that much darkness without some of it touching you.”

NINGAABII’AN (WEST) IN THE WESTERN DIRECTION THE JOURNEY FOCUSES ON THE RIPENED BERRIES AND THE HARVEST, A TIME OF CONSTANT CHANGE.

“I love you,” he says quickly. “No matter what happens, Daunis, I love you. If everything goes bad, save yourself and get away from here.”

I don’t know why the truth matters now. Only that it does. “I love you, Ojiishiingwe.”

“We love imperfect people. We can love them and not condone their actions and beliefs.”

She continues her trill. I know it means: We faced worse than you and we are still here. It is our survival song.

‘When you surround an army, leave an outlet free. Do not press a desperate foe too hard,’

I’m reminded that our Elders are our greatest resource, embodying our culture and community. Their stories connect us to our language, medicines, land, clans, songs, and traditions. They are a bridge between the Before and the Now, guiding those of us who will carry on in the Future.

KEWAADIN (NORTH) THE JOURNEY INTO THE NORTHERN DIRECTION IS A TIME FOR RESTING AND REFLECTING IN THE PLACE OF DREAMS, STORIES, AND TRUTH.

When our loved ones die, the love stays alive in the present.

“I love you, Daunis. You know that part isn’t a lie.” His voice is low and steady. “I felt something the first time I saw you. At Chi Mukwa. Seeing you in person, not just research in a case file.” He reaches for my hand. “You were right in front of me. Beautiful and real.”

“I love you. Whoever you are. Wherever you came from. Without our names or stories.”

“I love you … and I love myself. I want us to be healthy and strong. On our own. So that no matter what happens, whether we meet again or not …” I look him in the eye. “Love means wanting you to have a good life, even if I’m not in it. And your love for me? It should be that strong, so you want that for me, too.”

“We named him Waabun,” I say to the space where he was sitting. Telling him about the little boy from my dream. From a Someday in the future. A future in which we are both healthy and independent people. “After the eastern direction.”

The Jingle Dance represents healing. And the red dress symbolizes our women. So, today’s Red Dress Jingle Dance Special is for all the Anishinaabe kwewag and kwezanswag, Indigenous women and girls who are murdered or missing. Their spirits taken too soon, lives cut short. For each one … mikwendaagozi. She is remembered.

As I dance, I pray for Lily. For Robin. For Heather. And even for myself. For all the girls and women pushed into the abyss of expendability and invisibility. It

Greetings, Creator. I am Red Bear Woman. Bear Clan. From the Place of the Rapids. Keep our community strong. Our women safe. Our men whole. Our Elders laughing. And our children dreaming in the language. Thank you very much for this good life. When the song ends, I stand at the eastern door. Where all journeys begin.