I was first exposed to the concept of racism and assimilation when I travelled to a foreign state in North America. And I took more interest in reading literature written by Native-American community. One of my favourite pieces is “Why I Am a Pagan” by Zitkala-Sa, which depicts vividly how the voice of the white-American majority has swallowed the one of the Native-American community in 1900s. Consistently and persistenly, the Native people are persuaded by the voice that tells them about the only God living in the “upper region”: the Church of Christians. They start to believe “in the upper region [where] the Christian dead are gathered in unceasing song and prayer”, thereby despising the Church of Nature.

Hence, when seeing Zitkala-Sa soothing those lovely little flowers or listening to the story of the Stone-Boy instead of being in their “little God’s house”, her mother and cousin “feel disappointed”.

They begin to teach her the folly of their “old belief”, just as what “kind missionaries” taught them long years ago. Her voice that speaks of the story of the aborigines; the beauty of flowers, rocks and birds has been crushed out by the preacher from the “little God’s house”.
This voice may be crushed out into pieces by a stronger one, but it will never ever vanish into thin air. Over 100 years later, in a backyard of a university, a young girl from South East Asian is listening to her legacy. She can smell the perfumed breath of “the lovely little folk”; feel the “vigorous freedom” lying in a bird’s “little spirit”…

This young girl also believes that there is no such place as “the upper region” or “the deep pit below” but only the garden for all creatures. So, to answer the question at the beginning, for me, this is what it means to be an adult: to be able to think beyond my little self, to hear different voices, and to refuse to be blown off my feet by any.


*This is a personal reflection on my perspective regarding being an adult