I read, write, speak, and listen to understand and think--to do less is to belittle myself and others. When I was born in Nashville, I was proablly the only injun child born that day in the whole state of Tennessee. But, be assured that I wasn't the only red Indian in the state that day. My mother being one of them. I guess labeling my self makes people assume I'm 100% Native American which is not the case. I'm not even 50% injun according to my 23 & Me DNA analysis. I'm technically a half-breed in the truest definition of the word--part white (British-European) and part American Indian (North-American). I moved to Mississippi, my mother's home state, from Tennessee in 1978. My family moved in the middle of my school year, and it was a rather icy winter those few weeks we moved. The Indian reservation's second grade was in session when my father led me by the hand to the elementary building. The sidewalks were stained by the red clay soil which gave the sidewalk a yellowish hue. The old man sang, "follow the yellow brick road," and "readin', ritin', -n- rthmatic." I was eventually given to Mrs. Karen Penny's 2nd grade class. This particular class (class of '88) was not very bright as I would find out in the coming decade. The year 1983 was a great time. The summer was made memorable because of a road trip to Miami, Florida. In 1984, several grades above me, there was a senior class that developed a book of poetry based on Japanese convention. Sometime ago, I attempted my own version of it as I own the end result of that class of '84 efforts--a faux pas book made of school materials unremarkable. What was remarkable about it? The "book" was created on an Indian reservation, so it had plenty of Indian themes.