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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72"><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>Sorry I am late submitting this. I have been pondering how to bring my collection of stories about Lisa and her brothers to a close. Failing to find the right note to bring the stories to a conclusion I decided to try writing an epilogue ending.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Coming Home<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Lisa Swan stirred awake at the sound of the pilot’s voice. She glanced out the window of the plane. In a few minutes, she would land at Lansing’s Capital region International Airport and her brother Mike would be waiting to pick her up. Mike was attending Mid-Michigan College –Mt. Pleasant Campus. Her baby Brother, Ryan, was graduating from high school. Mama had completed her nursing program at the mid-year. This week would be a time of celebration for them all. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Lisa had skipped commencement at college, but had her Bachelor’s degree tucked in her backpack in the overhead bin. Next week, she would start an internship at the tribal office, working with the seven generations program. Seven Generations coordinated programs to serve the people providing meals for elders, enrichment classes for children and acted to benefit tribal members. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Next fall Lisa would be entering graduate school to obtain a Masters degree in social work. Mama had wanted her children to study hard and get the most out of their educational opportunities. She had taken classes at night to complete her GED. With the help of the tribe, Mary Swan had set an example for her children, by entering nursing school. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Grandpa Elijah had told them that schooling was the only way they could climb out of the poverty on the reservation. They could bring honor and pride to their people by proving that the Chippewa were strong, intelligent, resourceful, and resilient. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>It hadn’t been easy to step from the safety of family and friends who knew who you really were into a world where dark slightly tilted eyes, olive skin and dark hair meant a person was one of those shiftless alcoholic, lazy Indians. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The doors opened and the soft June air filled the cabin, Lisa stood to retrieve her travel case and backpack. Her long dark braids wrapped in red yarn fell over her slender shoulders to reach her hips. The Swan family had much to be proud of this June of 1970. They had a bright future ahead and many happy memories of growing up “Anishinaabe” the name Chippewa called themselves. Her childhood had given Lisa a strong set of values on which to stand, when she had left home to attend university in California. She was amused by how her long braids and moccasins had been misinterpreted as the emblems of a flower child. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>The young woman who had graduated high school in the top 10% of her class, had accepted scholarships and worked part time jobs to pay for college. Lisa had no time to waste on experimenting with drugs or joining the sexual revolution. The girl who watched her mother work two and sometimes three jobs to provide for her children, never wanted to let that loving mother down or cause her pain. The pride she saw in her grandfather’s eyes each time she brought home top grades, was also a shield against taking the wrong road in her young life. The baby girl given the name “Dogwood Blossom” by her Grandma Emma, knew herself and her place in her world. She was not like many of her classmates, raised in privilege, with the expectation of the life of a fairy tale princess. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Lisa knew that hard work and determination and listening to her own heart was the way of a different kind of princess. She had been 12 years old when she first stepped out onto the powwow grounds, wearing her homemade jingle dress. She followed her aunt Martha and other girls as the 369 cones sewn to each of their dresses tinkled in time with their dance steps. To be a jingle dancer, one must pledge to be pure in heart, mind and body in order to bring a blessing on the people. To strive for balance in oneself, to be an example of curtesy and to be mindful of the gifts granted by “the maker of all “things,” kept Lisa from straying from her goal of getting an education. A soft smile lit her face as she thought back over all of the mischief and adventures she had shared with her brothers. They had never felt poor growing up. When there is love, a home is a place of comfort and security. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>