I feel very fortunate to be living in a part of America that has Native communities and Native museums.
When I first got to America, I felt like I walked in on an argument. I arrived here via Botswana/ South Africa in February and the year was 2004. We arrived via New York (our port of entry) and it was SO COLD my fingers lost feeling.
Thinking of my father on his birthday. I don’t have many pictures of him but this is my favorite (and I know, I post it every year). It was sometime in the ’50’s around his Navy days and although from this photo he looks like he might have been a cocky dude, he was not at all.