Living two hours away from my grandparents made me forget some of my culture. By moving back, I knew I’d eventually recall what I once knew. My thirteenth birthday was in a few days and I knew we needed to get the house settled so after greeting my grandma, I headed back to our new house and started unpacking my things.

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My birthday came around and everyone began piling into the driveway, including a majority of my extended family. Natives love to get together as much as they can because family is the biggest thing in our hearts. When it was time to open gifts, I followed my mother’s guidance to a chair that sat in the dining room next to a small pile of gift bags. My dad handed me them one-by-one as I began to open them. I first pulled out a smaller box that contained a small, red, blue, and green beaded bracelet. The next gift bag contained a feather with a beaded wrap around the base. An Oklahoma University hoodie and a dream catcher was in my third gift bag. To be honest, as bad as it sounds, I was bored of these gifts. I was a younger kid who just wanted toys. I’m not sure if Grandpa noticed.

After the party, I walked back to my grandpa’s house and brought my gifts with me. I walked through the brown and welcoming living room before taking a left into the dark hallway that smelled of fresh cookies. I knocked on my his bedroom door before I heard him yell, “duh hey na de henna,”

I entered the light blue room and noticed that he was watching the news. I sat the items I had received on his bed.

He started speaking to me in Cherokee. He told me about the dream catcher. He taught me about the line work and the specific knot my uncle used to make it. “He makes positive patterns to help you sleep. These dream catchers steal the bad dreams before they can get to you.”

What does this do?” I asked as I held up the feather with a pretty pink beaded base.

“Your Aunt Dolly knows that your favorite color is pink. This feather is for good luck in a way. It is a way of being rewarded. You wear this and show your culture willingly, then good things happen for you.”

A few months later, I had a chance to do what my Grandpa had asked of me. I decided to take a Cherokee class and participate in a Cherokee Language Bowl at the end of the year. For more practice outside of class, I would just sit at my grandparents house and have conversations with my grandpa about anything he wanted to talk about. Our conversations ranged from fishing to counting, all in Cherokee. I vowed to remember his stories, even the far fetched ones so that I could retell them to my very own children one day. I wanted to show him my appreciation for him and everything he has taught me.

I went to my Aunt Dolly for a little help.

I knocked on the door a few short times before I heard someone tell me to come in. I opened the door to find my Aunt Dolly already opening different bags of beads and separating them by color on some plates.

“Hey, girlie. I am so excited!” She was going to show me how to make a craft for my Grandpa. It felt like good practice. “I’ve got everything ready. I cut some string about the size that it would take to cover the whole base of the feather, and, well, it is pretty easy. I can give you a rundown after we bead this piece,” Aunt Dolly explained excitedly.

“Okay, sounds good. Grandpa’s favorite colors are light blue and orange…so these would do the trick,” I said as I grabbed the two bowls full of those colored beads.

My Grandma stopped to look into my eyes. “This is going to really make him happy—you taking the time to learn how to do this—not to mention, making him something,” She said in a bittersweet tone.

I saw how much it affected them, just to see me try—just to see me attempt Cherokee and try to remember my roots. It meant so much to them and that made me want to try even harder.

Eventually, it was Language Bowl day. It was almost time to enter the match room where we would meet our opponents and judges. I was nervous in a good way yet I was confident that the feather from my Aunt Dolly would help me since I was wearing it in my hair. My teacher, Mrs. Blue opened the door in front of me and escorted the team to where we would be sitting.

I scanned the small room for my grandpa. I spotted him sitting in the front row dressed in his blue jeans and white t-shirt with a fishing logo and the blue and orange beaded feather in his hair. The sight of that instantly calmed me and I realized he would be happy for me and proud of me no matter what the outcome was.

He sat right in the middle of the row and was very invested in the game and was really listening to the judges talking about the rules. I looked back in front of me and made eye contact with one of the judges. By the last round of the match, the score was tied and it was the other teams time to answer. If they got it wrong then we get a chance to steal the point. I was very nervous because since I was team captain, I would give my answer. The opposing team answered incorrectly but also answered with what I was thinking was the correct term.

“Red team, please give your answer,” the judge in the middle of the table said sternly.

I looked at my teammates then I glanced at my grandpa who was holding his thumb up towards me. “Water,” I answered.

“That is correct. Red earns a point and defeats blue,” the judge said. My entire team stood up. We high-fived and shook hands. I hugged all five of them then ran to my grandpa. The excitement and happiness that he felt was noticeable all over his face as he glowed with joy. “I am so proud of you,” my grandpa said twice as we walked out of the arena and headed home.