Oral History Project

This is a project in which I interviewed my aunt regarding a memorable experience of hers. I then discuss my experiences with interviewing someone for the first time, within the context of indigenous oral history traditions. This is for NAS 22 Native American Lives with Professor Vera Palmer:

Introduction

The narrator is my aunt Amina from my mother’s side of the family. Outside of my parents and sister, she is the family member I am closest to living in America; most of my relatives remain in West Bengal, India. While she is unrelated to me by blood–she is married to my uncle, the first cousin of my mother–she mentioned during this interview of knowing me longer than her own children, referring to our lasting relationship since my birth. In the interview, she often refers to the period in her life after having moved from India to Chicago, but the majority of my interactions with her–as well as her particular story–took place since she moved to Connecticut for the purposes of my uncle’s career. Since I cannot remember, I have interacted with her during family get-togethers at one another’s homes almost every six months; sadly, this has not been possible since I left for college, but we do meet up every winter break. I chose to interview her as it would give me a chance for a private conversation with just her, isolated from my parents and cousins. This all plays into my position as the interviewer, which will be addressed in my reflection. As I alluded to, she has two children who look up to me as a role model in terms of passion for learning. I have been blessed to have seen them grow into intelligent children, and I wished to know how they were raised to be this way, and how this upbringing may compare to that of my own–we are all second-generation New Englanders. This is what I roughly expected to learn of while preparing for the interview. To my surprise, I ended up learning from the perspective of a young woman whose outlook on motherhood changed because of a fortunate experience, developing within me gratitude for the little things in life, similar to what my aunt underwent.

Interview

Note: The Hindi/Bengali word ‘Bhabhi’ used below roughly translates to ‘sister-in-law,’ but in these circumstances it refers to a respected older lady.

Q: Describe the youngest baby you’ve ever held and how it felt to have the baby in your arms. Whichever direction you’d like to go in, feel free to. Perhaps who the baby was, that might be a good way to start.

A: When I first moved to this country, not the first time, in the year two thousand…are you recording? [Yes]…In two thousand four, we moved here for the second time to this country and we [she and her husband Asif] were living in an apartment building. I had made a friend with a Bangladeshi girl who is of my age. We used to go to every place, we used to go to the apartment gym together, afterwards we used to have pancakes together. Anyways, that was our routine. In the meantime, through her, I met another fellow, a Bangladeshi couple who just had a baby. That’s all I knew about. Then one sudden day, the girl who was of my age, her name is Shubra–I’m not saying a hypothetical name, her real name is Shubra, she is still a friend of mine. Shubra just told me, ‘Amina, I got a call from that Bhabhi. She really needs us today.’ I was like, ‘Why?’ And she said, ‘She is not comfortable having someone babysit her baby, so she wants us to do that.’ I *love* babies, I mean, I love babies. When I was young, when anyone asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, my answer was, ‘I want to be a mom and a teacher.’ That was my standard answer. You have no idea how excited I was in the idea that I was going to babysit the baby without the mom being there. Wow! I get to cuddle the baby, I get to kiss the baby, I get to do the, you know, motherly stuff, without the responsibility. And we had to babysit the baby for two to three hours maximum, or whatever time is necessary for the green card stuff that needs to be taken care of.

Q: They [Bhabhi and her husband] left you to babysit because they had to run some errands, er rather, a green card?

A: A green card. To become an American citizen first you have to apply for a green card. It is a governmental thing that may take two to three hours.

Q: Ok. Could you remind me where this took place in America?

A: It was two thousand four, Connecticut, Hamden, long time back! I was twenty-four years old and married for three years and had no idea. So I went to [Shubra’s] house, it was a walkable distance, then to [Bhabhi’s] house. The Bhabhi was in a rush. The Bhabhi just told me that they were running late to the [green card] interview, and that they have to be in at a specific time. ‘With the baby and stuff we were already late, so we have to dash.’ So they left us with the baby. I am so thankful that they trusted us with the baby knowing we don’t have a baby of our own. Later on, you will know why she didn’t grab the baby with her to the green card office. So you understand what’s a green card right? [Yes] Before you become an American citizen you file for a green card. Shubra was like six months older than me, so she was my age, only twenty-four or twenty-five. I was happy, I was *so* happy! Then, the Bhabhi said the baby has this formula, the diapers are here, and stuff like that. I was not listening to her. I thought let [Bhabhi] go and dash without the baby and I will just hold and cuddle her [the baby is a girl], but [Bhabhi] told me that you are supposed to sanitize your hands before you touch the baby. I was like, My hands are clean, then why do I need to sanitize my hands?

Q: So you were in the midst of learning how to be a mother because you hadn’t had children up until then, and you were still perhaps learning along the way, trying to get familiar?

A: I did not care about learning, I just wanted to hold a baby, that was my live doll for me. So I went to the crib. Aadil, I kid you not, the crib was a standard crib. I could not see the baby, Where was the baby? And I looked at Shubra, asking ‘Where is the baby?’ Shubra said, ‘See, that is the baby.’ ‘I don’t see the baby!’ Then [Shubra] helped me turn the blanket off and the baby was *this* [hand gesture] tiny. She was four pounds and some ounces. The baby was three months premature. I couldn’t believe it. Up until then, whenever I used to hold a baby, the baby was almost a little bit older, say about six or seven months. So when I saw the four pound baby, I was like [three second pause] What do I do with that? I mean, the baby was so fragile to me that I started panicking. I mean you have no idea, from cuddling the baby to What do I do with that? That was my first reaction. Thankfully, Shubra being somewhat calm, alhamdullilah [Arabic for ‘praise be to God’] she got the baby because by that time the baby was crying. She was like, ‘Do you want to hold her?’ I was like, ‘No, I don’t want to hold her,’ because I was too scared.

Q: Scared of hurting the baby?

A: Of course. You have no idea abbu [Bengali for ‘son,’ referring to me]. When a baby is born it is fragile to begin with, and when a baby is born three months premature, you can imagine. So the first thing, to answer the question, the youngest baby I’ve ever held was a four pound baby, a premature one, and not mine, a friend’s. [A friend] who, Allah [Arabic for ‘God’] bless her, trusted us, knowing me for a few months, because she did not have an option. She had no family here, she didn’t trust a babysitter, she felt like another Bengali person can almost be a more confidante person than an outsider. To bring a premature baby to a public place, one full of germs, that was not healthy for the baby. Now I was crossing my T’s and dotting my I’s basically. For the two to three hours I stayed there, I was panicking. I was relying on Shubra to help me. I had to change the baby’s diaper two or three times because she was pooping and peeing of course, but the pooping and peeing was not normal. I mean, to begin with she was a small baby, so her poop was little, her pee was little, her diaper was tiny, and her skin was like an old person’s, not like a regular baby’s skin. It was scary. I was grateful at the same time as technology has advanced so much that this premature baby is alive and so thriving that the parent can leave the kid to us.

Q: What emotions were you overcome with? I’m hearing that you felt like this was a sort of miracle, winding up with a baby by chance, a baby of someone you aren’t related to closely. Perhaps it was a miracle that you got a chance to hold him/her. Were you feeling as though this experience was meant to happen?

A: Up until that day I hadn’t had any…I had heard people mentioning, ‘premature baby,’ but I had never seen a premature baby, let alone touch a baby. In India, it’s all different. You aren’t supposed to touch, you aren’t supposed to visit. In India there are so many germs and phobia to begin with, and technology isn’t that advanced there. If something happens, kids die. So I was in awe…the miracle. Secondly, I was a little sad that I didn’t get to kiss the baby. At the same time, I thought maybe I wasn’t ready to be a mother yet because I panicked so much. Thankfully Shubra was there with me that time. You know, the thing is that life sometimes teaches you stuff, without which you would have thought, Maybe I’m ready for it. You’re not ready for it! Maybe it was like a divine intervention [laughs]. I was also very grateful for Bhabhi to rely on us. It was given the fact that she didn’t have a choice. I learned that when you are abroad your friends become family, sort of. And ‘til date, we are in touch. They [Bhabhi’s family] are in the same place, they’re in the same town, and I see [the baby], a high schooler now. Sometimes I tease her like, ‘Meli [the girl’s name], you’re poop was little,’ and she’d be like, ‘Aima please!’ She used to call me Aima just like you used to call me Aima [indeed, what I called my aunt as a child]. She gets embarrassed of course, you know how much I like to make people embarrassed.

Q: At the beginning of the interview you were saying that this [story] had a chance of not being super interesting or relevant [to the purposes of this project], but when you said how you don’t know what to expect until you actually face the reality of what it’s like to have a baby…that theme is quite generalizable, not just for motherhood!

A: Yeah. The good thing that happened was when I was pregnant with Aisha, my first kid, there was a little bit of confusion whether my parents could come [from India] or not, so in the meantime when they were not sure if they were going to come and be with me when I was having a baby, I told myself, If you could take care of that baby [Meli] for a few hours, you can take care of *your* child. It’s almost like a reassurance that you can do it. We as women have that thing, that sixth sense, especially if it is your baby, it comes from within. I was telling myself, You can do it.

Q: It motivated you–

A: Not exactly motivated me, encouraged me, like, You can do it. It was almost like I told myself, You know you can do it, because she [Amina from the past] was doing it by herself, so you can also!

Q: Like you said, you are still in touch with this high schooler.

A: Yes, her name is Meli. She goes by the name Zara, that’s her first name–er, good name.

Q: Beautiful name. You have touched on this, but how has this experience shaped your motherhood, your raising of Abid and Aisha [her children]. What, if anything, would have been different had you not had this experience of holding a child for the first time?

A: After I met Meli, the baby, I had my first kid three years later. In the nine-month duration of being pregnant, I prayed to Allah [God], Please don’t let it be a premature baby. Just because of the natural thing, even if I didn’t have to go through that, I wanted to have a full-term baby, just for the sake of the baby’s health. Secondly, when Aisha was full-term, she was forty-one weeks, so I was done [gesturing], Come out, you’re done. She was seven pounds and fourteen ounces, alhamdulillah. I was like, Yes, I can do it! You have to understand that three pounds [Aisha and Meli’s weight difference] makes a difference. The more you are in the tummy, the more prone you are of developing your own immune system. If you laid those two babies side-by-side, Aisha would have been a *giant* compared to that baby. And Abid, my second child, he was born two years after Aisha. He was nine pounds and four ounces, which is what Meli weighed when I think she was one years old. So I became more appreciative of life, alhamdulillah, as you don’t take stuff for granted. You pat yourself on the back for delivering that huge baby. [Two second pause] I was grateful, believe me. When you experience [these] things, you pray deep down that it doesn’t happen to you. It is a human thing, I think. It is a struggle because it is said when you have a premature baby, even when they grow up, they have certain problems in their lives. Some kids outgrow those, other kids cannot.

Q: When you talk about a premature baby, I can’t help but thinking of Anjum [my sister], though of course Anjum was blessed to be born physically strong. You are familiar with Anjum of how she is [on autistic spectrum]. I’m starting to connect a bit with what you were saying. Obviously, motherhood isn’t something that I can experience, but I’m connecting. I think I’m seeing what you were going through.

A: That’s what I was thinking abbu, like I told you, this motherhood is a job that I really…if someone says, ‘Are you a stay-at-home mom? What’s your job?’ that *is* my job. I don’t get paid for it, but that’s my job, and I take it very seriously. [Two second pause] I was afraid I wasn’t going to connect with you because you are too small to understand that, so I was wondering if you’d like to change the topic. I can do that.

Q: No, no! I think this was an inspiring question. I don’t know what I was expecting really [as your response] for this question but–

A: You thought maybe Aisha and Abid–

Q: Yeah, perhaps I was wondering about your outlook on–

A: Believe me, it’s not a make-believe thing. I remember one instance when I was changing a diaper, [Meli’s] poop was very little–I’m sorry for the image–I was asking, ‘Is she done, will she poop?’ Shubra told me, ‘Amina she’s a four-pound baby, did you see how little milk she consumed? If she was eating that little, how can she poop that much?’ I was *that* naïve. I went with a different mindset and came back with a different mindset. You know what I mean? That thing taught me so much, like maybe I wasn’t ready. I think I told myself, I could be a mother. Motherhood isn’t a big deal. But maybe I wasn’t ready yet, and maybe that’s the reason I had Aisha three years later.

Q: Since you said you appreciate life a lot more, having had this experience, do you have anything in mind, outside of what we have discussed what you are more appreciative of?

A: I’m just generally more appreciative of health. Sometimes you feel like the grass is always greener. As a human being, we always feel that. I feel like, Oh she or he has so much. We could have done better. It is human nature. At the same time, not only her [Meli’s] example, any example–[whether] a person is suffering from this and that–you feel like as long as your health is there and you feel alive, that’s all you need. [Lots of laughter] Was that of any help abbu?

Q: Wow [five embarrassing seconds for me to think]. You were talking about the role as a stay-at-home mom in this culture. Did this experience [holding Meli] influence how you consider this role of taking care of the kids? I was wondering if you had any thoughts on this.

A: Since that experience or not, I would have been a stay-at-home mom. If economically we [our family] could survive, that was my first preference. If needed, I could do some odd jobs. Unfortunately, I have a graduate degree but this does not count in this country as this country takes four-year degree and in India it was three-year degree. I used to work in Chicago as a teacher at a daycare, but Asif uncle learned the hard way that I was not meant to do outside work [laughs]. I was fine, I was content. When I see my other friends on Facebook showing they are doing good jobs–the backbenchers [relatively bad students from school] are doctors and engineers, they are thriving in their professional lives–the first thing they say when they connect with me was, ‘So what are you doing with your life? What’s your job?’ That’s the thing, I never was jealous of the person because, like I told you, the first thing I loved was [the idea of] being a mother as a kid. Thankfully, Asif uncle let me be with what I know the best. This is the place I thrive. With or without that experience [with Meli] I don’t know any better than that.

Q: Do you have anything you’d want to do over from your past, having arrived where you are today?

A: Not from this experience in particular. When I was given this opportunity, Asif uncle asked me, ‘Would you like to pursue higher education?’ I rejected. Maybe from twelve or thirteen years back if that chance came upon me, I would have grabbed it. I would not be going for a job. I would have gotten the degree and been a stay-at-home mom. You know what I mean?

Q: Just the degree, understood.

A: That’s right. Because I have no regret choosing my profession! Have you eaten Aadil?

Unexpected break during interview recording…apologies. It picks up abruptly following an unknown question, with a line from aunt Amina that effectively summarizes her previous points.

A: When I realize that I woke up in the morning, I am able to breath, I can walk…what else can you do? What else can you want? I think that is the reason Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala [Arabic for ‘God almighty’] gives us these situations, these circumstances, just to get up and do it. When Aisha and Abid were born, I was so appreciative. When Abid was born a nine-pound, four-ounce baby, he was a *huge* baby [lots of laughter]. I wondered, Oh my God, what Bhabhi went through! Knowing she was going to deliver a premature baby, knowing that the baby may have some problems later on in the life. [Two second pause] You don’t become a mother when you have the baby, you become a mother as soon as you know from the doctor that you are pregnant. That maybe for a father is a different thing, but for a mother it comes. Sorry we’re going into too much depth abbu, but you are such a sensitive kid that you will understand it.

Q: Sensitive!? [Lots of laughter] I’m kidding, thank you. Thank you so much.

Reflection

To begin the interview, my aunt made certain I was comfortable proceeding with a subject matter that in her view may not necessarily interest me, ie. the relationship between the mother and her baby. With this courteous gesture, it made me as the interviewer realize I may have a challenging task ahead of carefully processing the emotions that my guest could insinuate through words and expressions. As I am incapable of experiencing motherhood, I understood I may not have the ability to look at a newborn the same way as my interviewee; not only can our experiences impact how we perceive the world around us, but we are hardwired at birth differently. This shapes how society regards a man’s potential to become a dedicated and faithful father, a danger that is less associated with a woman as motherhood is a more immediately personal and emotional experience for her. I was intrigued by the prospect of understanding the unique bond that the opposite gender experiences, feeling a responsibility to step outside my unrealized bubble and try my best to empathize with my aunt. It made me optimistic that perhaps the interview could bring out a more careful listener from within me.

A difficulty in understanding aunt Amina’s perspective was how differently we each grew up, making her reactions to interacting with a premature newborn not necessarily aligning with how I may behave. Having grown up with a special-needs sibling, I feel as though my emotions may have been different from those of aunt had I personally met a four-pound baby resting in a crib as she did. A hypothetical experience such as this may bring a bout of nostalgia in me and perhaps less so of the awe and fear during my aunt’s exposure, reminding me of my past experiences with children instead of, in aunt Amina’s perspective, one’s comfortability with caring for children in the immediate future. This was admittedly speculation, but I emphasize how the various ways we are nurtured affect our reactions to stimuli. Indeed, conceptions of how I may have reacted in contrast to how my peer behaved creates a danger for how I depict this peer in my writing. It forced me to be careful during the interview process in withholding my convictions on whether she had acted maturely given her responsibility, as well as avoiding awkward follow-up questions such as how comfortable she may be with physically handicapped children ever since her experience.

Despite the mentioned hurdles I faced while interviewing, I believe it was fulfilling to understand the broader message that my aunt gave regarding how fortunate human beings can be to experience the unexpected, and as a result, gain lessons that correct our trajectories towards fate. I benefitted from sharing Islamic faith with my interviewee, allowing me to accept the concept that my aunt’s experience may have been predestined such that she could become a better mother, as would an obedient servant of God according to our faith. I realized I do not have to wait to become a parent to recognize the gifts given to me upon birth such as a home, family, and education. From the personal, even spiritual connections I was making while interviewing, it felt as though my positionality as an outsider–my identity leading to my judgment of the interviewee–became less of a barrier towards empathizing with a person. It actually seemed to strengthen my ability to listen and comprehend, albeit it certainly helped that my subject was a family member who shared beliefs in faith and reason with me.

Furthermore, it was heartening to learn about my aunt’s experiences as a first-generation immigrant and how she certainly cannot be the only young woman going through a transition as she did. My aunt was fortunate enough to meet friends like Shubra who shared similar upbringings to hers, building a sense of community and comfort within a foreign country that otherwise would have felt rather overwhelming to struggle in. Though my aunt’s circumstances were somewhat elevated from what others like her were experiencing, given her husband’s relative job security and education, it reminded me of the communities I consider myself to be a member of as a Muslim computer science major. Bonds I make with unexpected people could yield lifelong teachings that change me for the better, requiring me to put my introverted self ‘out there.’ If aunt Amina could do it, perhaps I too can.

Analysis

Emerging from the conversation with my aunt was an apparent trust among fellow immigrants living in the United States, particularly between those who share one another’s cultures, and a mistrust those foreign to us. To explain I will consider an event in 1809, when the Shawnee Tribe requested for the return of a Quaker originally assigned by the Jefferson administration to civilize the Indian, but who was later recalled from duty. Intriguing to me was the momentary hope for the indigenous and colonialists of living beside each other, given the Shawnee’s expressed gratitude towards Quaker Kirk in their governmental petition, which states, “The white people in the State of Ohio are also fond of [Kirk]…we wish him to return and live with us. the white people all wish him to return” (Nabokov 79). As the Shawnee address the white population of Ohio as a single unit, consider that at the same time a white man as Kirk did exist who brought aid, unlike most of his kind, to the Indian people. The state of the tribe seemingly offered a sign there may be hope for working beside a cooperative, less self-interested population of white men. We are not sure of the true intentions of Kirk, but his actions cannot be neglected. I am reminded that when an immigrant faces the foreign world ahead of her in search of opportunity, there is this hope that life can be better with his new neighbors and co-workers. According to my aunt, people like her, Shubra, and Bhabhi did their best to sustain this hope during their early years, and though with patience they succeeded in making livings, they often resorted to their own people for strength during said years in America. Returning to the federal government’s decision to relieve Kirk of his duties, I am wondering how this affected the Shawnee’s ongoing view of the typical white man–it was he who brought (though, perhaps inadvertently) positive change to the tribe through instatement of European culture AND he who subsequently took away the Shawnee’s source of aid. These circumstances may signal betrayal, a sentiment that I believe would apply to today’s immigrant population; certain nations have welcomed refugees and internationals, allowing them to enter their work forces, only later to wanting them out of their countries for supposedly stealing their citizens’ jobs. This is just one modern example of the divide persisting in the United States.

The 1853 incident at Boyer Creek exposed differences in values with regards to the natural world between the Omaha Indian and white settler; it suggested to me that when two groups disagree to such a degree, there may exist certain techniques that generate such divide. As described by an anonymous Omaha tribesman, his people were demanded by white farmers to stop wandering over ‘their’ lands. Though this attitude was rather expected, what wasn’t was one white man’s response to White Buffalo in the Distance’s argument about land ownership by questioning his opponent’s intellect: “If the President bought [the land], are you so intelligent that you would know about it?” (Nabokov 83). The conversation deviates from that of substance–dependence of the Omaha on the land’s wild animals–to one of unbased accusation on another’s character, perhaps helpful in explaining the relative comfortability–or lack thereof–towards the ‘other’ as discussed earlier. Recalling that my aunt and Shubra were trusted by Bhabhi over an actual babysitter, immigrants may perceive their legitimate confidants in the New World to be of their own kind because they feel cornered by biases directed by the majority population towards them. Their understanding may be that society views them as second-rate, to which they either gulp–should they place importance in retaining their status in the country–or resist–should they risk their existence for justice. The Omaha seemingly took the latter route as they responded to Boyer Creek with built-up frustration, for their initial request to white men were seemingly reasoned and in peace. This state of relative non-violent tension (though Boyer Creek did result in injuries, it avoided disaster) carries over in ways to today’s pains in society.

Upon finally finding herself with a baby, my aunt experienced a change in how she viewed an entity, whether a person or inanimate object, by considering its spiritual–rather than surface–value. Aunt Amina recalled that prior to her first interaction with a baby she was excited to hold one as if it were a live doll, as would someone eager to become a mother one day. What emerged from her recollection was her lack of preparedness for raising a baby; she was engrossed in her imagination of the experience. One tendency that motivates preconceptions about how an experience will manifest is perhaps our materialistic view of the world around us. By gaining satisfaction from possession of a baby, that is, from merely the sensory gratification of seeing and feeling one, one’s focus may be less so on the miracle of life immediately present and the internalization of this; though this realization need not take place for the mother this soon, I believe what triggered my aunt towards balancing these two perspectives was the premature-ness of the baby. In contemporary anthropology, meaning is said not to be fixed, but as emerging in practice (Cruikshank 104). Perhaps this means that one should not judge based on face appearance, whether this be, with regards to Native studies, a world’s fair exhibit claiming to represent the ‘Indian’ way, or more broadly, the tender image that is typically associated with a newborn. For an informed understanding of a something’s worth, one must consider the variety of perspectives that, say, contribute to an Indian tribe behaving as shown in an exhibit, or capture the potential struggles parents face with welcoming to the world a child having disabilities. Sometimes we believe in concepts without actively seeking out inconsistencies that conflict with these perceptions, inconsistencies that could enhance or even alter our understandings. I certainly would not equate how the indigenous were characterized by 19^th century world’s fairs with how young children are idealized, however I would point to our often problematic engagement with the unknown.

As the amanuensis I find it fulfilling to document–at the very least unravel a layer to–a story of two seemingly unrelated individuals, ie. my aunt and the baby; though this by-chance interaction revealed a realm of growth I had not known was with my aunt, it is worth acknowledging the possible limitations of the information I received from the interview. I would understand if my aunt found it challenging to be fully forthcoming, thinking this could be shared with my parents; though, given the innocent nature of our discussion, I would deem this less likely. There was the assumption from the interview’s start that I may not be interested in such an account as what my aunt would produce, perhaps causing her to omit certain details from her statement. To understand the worth in pursuing truth despite barriers, we may consider the metaphor of palimpsest. I believe my telling of this story could contribute to the “most appropriate picture of the way in which the perfect narrative is revealed through the layers of a variety of retellings” (Cruickshank 115). Despite the shortcomings mine may have, it revealed the emotions that a woman may battle in face of moment in her life as significant as motherhood. To add a new layer to the story that my aunt gifted me with, I would hope for an interview between her and the then-baby, a healthy high schooler today named Meli, as I imagine gratitude and nostalgia for seeing Meli may affect my aunt’s narration of the past. There is no promise that these two perspectives alone will reveal the full extent of her experience, yet it would address the difficulties people experience in sharing their submerged feelings to outsiders.

By considering gender norms across Crow Nation and (Asian) Indian cultures, one notices a fulfillment among their women as they often embrace their societal roles; although modern culture may look down upon such roles in comparison to those of household financial providers, they may help explain the perspectives from which these storytellers reveal experiences. To close my interview, I asked my aunt how holding a baby for the first time affected her desire to be a mother, in the context of being an adult with possible aspirations for work, higher education, etc. Her response reminded me of Pretty-Shield’s description of Crow village life, consisting of–not limited to–men defending the tribe and hunting for food, and women performing tasks within the household such as caring for children, cooking, and maintaining the lodges (Linderman 75-6). Notable was both the variety of responsibilities that Pretty-Shield noted that women possessed, expected since she performed them herself, and the resulting weight given by males to their female counterparts. I mention this weight because my aunt twice mentioned her husband’s acceptance of her strengths and weaknesses as a caretaker, affecting how either pursued his/her career for their family’s well-being. Evidence for the dedication of Crow men towards their women includes the tribal chief’s sending of scouts to serve as lookouts for enemies so that females would feel safe while males went out hunting (Linderman 55). There appears to be a recognition of dependency between the two genders, resulting in a respect that grounds either’s purpose of existence. This understanding is not as clearly evident in misogyny-ridden societies today, surely considering the dominance of males at both work and home. Having grown up during different decades and within vastly different communities, my aunt and I may feel differently over the duties of men versus those of women, which could be why my concern for her comfortability of being a housewife even arose. This revealed another presumption of mine, regarding how I may want to balance my own family and work. Asking a critical question as this one could produce worthy insight from the interviewee, while it demonstrates how the positionality of the amanuensis can dictate what is and isn’t documented, for better and worse.

Reciprocity Coda

When I think of my aunt, I also picture her little children, Abid and Aisha, who are my two closest cousins. Aisha in particular is quite the artist in the family, and she at about age eight created an origami star for my mother’s birthday when our families had a get-together at my house; to this day my mother has the star hanging in our kitchen for everyone who visits to see. I have been lucky to have held Aisha in my arms when she was a baby, so in the spirit of this interview I too wanted to gift my aunt a piece of origami; I made a flower–to my best ability . Having sent the origami in the mail to her and notified her about a week after the interview, aunt Amina was surprised I made the connection between the interview and an arts-and-crafts piece from this many years ago. I explained that as per Native tradition, I hoped to express my gratitude for her giving a glimpse into her life, however difficult it may have been for her. She distinguished a gift coming from someone who sees a star or flower from a “materialistic” perspective–as objects whose ownership itself brings satisfaction–and from someone who reminds the receiver of a warm memory. My aunt noted that–in rough translation from Bengali–there was something more genuine about a FaceTime interview as opposed to text messages, that because of the convenience of texting we lose potential to bond with people we need to be closer with. Though she did not say so, I hope the flower reminds her of her own children as they are precious gifts to have held in her own arms.

Conclusion

Having asked my aunt about her experiences holding a baby for the first time, I recognized certain characteristics between me and her that may have complicated my conducting of the interview, including our age difference and gendered experiences. I learned through the process of an interview to be aware of my personal biases that if uncontrolled may misshape the story being told. Despite some hurdles, there was a side of my aunt that I heard and felt personally. Her early life as an immigrant was quite different from that of either of my parents, particularly regarding the close friendships she developed, giving her an invaluable community of trust and support. It helped me understand the context in which she matured into a more appreciative individual, shaping her ability to be a strong mother. For me, indigenous cultures offered a lens through which I could explain where my aunt’s emotions may be coming from; I did not think there would be as much in common between our cultures in terms of how our people think, until I considered the themes in common between our voices. Perhaps my aunt will feel comfortable sharing her story to others, with the hope of unique lessons being extracted that build on my own.

Works Cited

Cruikshank, Julie. The Social Life of Stories: Narrative and Knowledge in the Yukon Territory. University of Nebraska Press, 1998.

Linderman, Frank Bird. Pretty-Shield: Medicine Woman of the Crows. University of Nebraska Press, 2003.

Nabokov, Peter. Native American Testimony: A Chronicle of Indian-White Relations from Prophecy to the Present, 1492-2000. Penguin, 1999.