ࡱ> AC@a =jbjb11 d([[#42:):):)h) )420))"******$0&0&0&0&0&0&0,1R3R0*****R0$0**g0$0$0$0*x**$0$0$6*$0$0$0$0) uQ:)+$0$0}000$04$04$0$022$22Rayfords Song from Legends from Camp by Lawson Fusao Inada Rayfords song was Rayfords song, but it was not his alone, to own. He had it, though, and kept it to himself as we rowed-rowed-rowed the boat through English country gardens with all the whispering hope we could muster, along with occasional choruses of funiculi-funicula! Werent we a cheery lot comin round the mountain with Susanna, banjos on our knees, rompin through the leaves of the third-grade music textbook. Then Rayford Butler raised his hand. For the first time, actually, in all the weeks he had been in class, and for the only time before hed leave. Yes, quiet Rayford, silent Rayford, Little Rayford, dark Rayford always in the same overalls that Rayford, Rayford Butler, raised his hand: Miss Gordon, maam we always singing your songs. Could I sing one of my own? Pause. We looked at one another; we looked at Rayford Butler; we looked up at Miss Gordon, who said: Well, I suppose so, Rayford if you insist. Go ahead. Just one song. Make it short. And Rayford Butler stood up very straight, and in his high voice, sang: Suh-whing ah-loooow, suh-wheeet ah-charr-eee-oohh, ah-comin for to carr-eee meee ah-hoooome Pause. Classroom, school, schoolyard, neighborhood, the whole world focusing on that one song, one voice which had a light to it, making even Miss Gordons white hair shine in the glory of it, glowing in the radiance of the song. Pause. Rayford Butler sat down. And while the rest of us may have been spellbound, on Miss Gordons face was something like a smile, or perhaps a frown: Very good, Rayford. However, I must correct you: the word is chariot Do you understand me? But Miss Gordon I said chariot, chariot. Can you pronounce that for me? Yes, Miss Gordon. Chariot. Very good, Rayford. Now, class, before we return to our book, would anyone else care to sing a song of their own? Our songs, our songs, were there on tips of tongues, but stuck in throatssongs of love, fun, animals, and valor, songs of other lands, in other languages, but they just wouldnt come out. Where did our voices go? Rayfords song was Rayfords song, But it was not his alone, to own. Well, then, class lets turn our books to Old Black Joe. Heritage by Linda Hogan b. 1947, Chickasaw From my mother, the antique mirror where I watch my face take on her lines. She left me the smell of baking bread to warm fine hairs in my nostrils, she left the large white breasts that weigh down my body. From my father I take his brown eyes, the plague of locusts that leveled our crops, they flew in formation like buzzards. From my uncle the whittled wood that rattles like bones and is white and smells like all our old houses that are no longer there. He was the man who sang old chants to me, the words my father was told not to remember. From my grandfather who never spoke I learned to fear silence. I learned to kill a snake when youre begging for rain. And grandmother, blue-eyed woman whose skin was brown, she used snuff. When her coffee can full of black saliva spilled on me it was like the brown cloud of grasshoppers that leveled her fields. It was the brown stain that covered my white shirt, my whiteness a shame. That sweet black liquid like the food she chewed up and spit into my fathers mouth when he was an infant. It was the brown earth of Oklahoma stained with oil. She said tobacco would purge your body of poisons. It has more medicine than stones and knives against your enemies. That tobacco is the dark night that covers me. She said it is wise to eat the flesh of deer so you will be swift and travel over many miles. She told me how our tribe has always followed a stick that pointed west that pointed east. From my family I have learned the secrets of never having a home. PAGE  PAGE 2 'UV  a b $ % q [ \   ) + . / {|\]#$*+,./56789<=ʵh0JmHnHuh h0Jjh0JUhhCJOJQJhCJOJQJh6CJOJQJhCJOJQJC)?@Ad6UVo/V $a$#<  $ C a b  $ % P n p  > d  !  * F Z \ r   . / D a ` ! Ab{|#6Y,Z$a$8\] ES6Mp&S "#,-.9:;<=&`#$/ =!"#$%# 0/ =!"T#$% P 0/ =!"#$F%D@D NormalCJOJPJQJmH sH tH DA@D Default Paragraph FontZi@Z  Table Normal :V 4 l4a _H(k@(No List 4 @4 Footer  !.)@. 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