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I have complicated feelings about the pole and its location. My mother's tribe, the "Flathead," moved inland from the coast to hunt buffalo, but I don't know much about totem poles.
But I do know that it's located in a place nearly devoid of Native American culture. Indians are largely absent at the University of Chicago. Only thirty American Indian students attend the school. Unlike the first university I attended, there is little here for Indians. There is no Native American Studies department, no powwow, no cultural events. We lack a presence here. It's as if the entire school forgot Indians existed, except for this pole. And it's viewed as nothing more than a curiosity.
To me the pole feels lonely. Carved from the wood of a rainforest on the coast, by the hands of a skilled tribesman, it stands here near the stairwell devoid of context, devoid of meaning.
I identify with it.
I have complicated feelings about the pole and its location. My mother's tribe, the "Flathead," moved inland from the coast to hunt buffalo, but I don't know much about Totem poles.
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