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268 pages, Paperback
First published February 25, 2003


Alone in my room, I sat like the petrified Indian woman of whom my mother used to tell me. I wished that my heart would turn to unfeeling stone. Alive in my tomb, I was destitute.This book is quite certainly a lament but it is also a tale of the myriad influences that become part of Zitkála-Šá's dual identity. What follows are poems, speeches & memoir-like essays, including one entitled "America's Indian Problem", from a magazine she edited that encapsulate the depths of her feelings about life in America. She asks how, having been scattered to the 4 winds, the Indian people will ever manage to organize in a meaningful way?
For the white man's papers I had given up my faith in the Great Spirit. For those same papers I had forgotten the healing of trees & brooks. On account of my mother's simple view of life & my lack of any, I gave her up also.
I made no friends among the race of people I loathed. Like a slender tree, I had been uprooted from my mother, nature & God. I was shorn of my branches, which had waved in sympathy & love for home & friends. The natural coat of bark which had protected my oversensitive nature was scraped off to the very quick & I seemed to be planted in a strange earth.

To Jesuit, Quaker, to all that kept their faith in us, the Indian loyalty never failed. America, I love thee. Thy people shall be my people & thy God my God.American Indian Stories by Zitkála-Šá also includes manifestos & speeches. For me, part of the beauty of American Indian Stories is Zitkála-Šá's (Gertrude Bonnin's) expression of her sense of a Godlike-presence in her life & within that expression, I sensed something both uplifting & universal.