
Storyteller and grandfather John Bevis with two of his grandsons, 6-year-old Payton Sinclair and 2-year-old Quintin Sinclair. Bevis lives and tells stories on the Umatilla Reservation near Pendleton, Oregon. Photo by Anna King
Posteda: Thursday, November 19, 2009
PENDLETON, OR - You’re probably making preparations for Thanksgiving and looking forward to gathering with friends and family. In Northwest Indian Country, cold weather signals a time to gather too. It’s a time to nestle indoors and tell stories. Native stories help pass on culture and religion to younger generations. But that’s become harder in the age of Wii and the I-Phone. Correspondent Anna King has been doing an occasional series called Hidden Religions. For this story she visited a native storyteller near Pendleton, Oregon on the Umatilla Reservation.
The first thing you notice when you walk inside John Bevis’ modest two-story is the smell. It’s earthy. And spicy. And welcoming. It comes from a pot of wild roots that simmers on the stove all day. The next thing you notice are Bevis’ tiny grandsons.
SOUND: [Matchbox cars]
They’re playing with matchbox cars. Grandpa John Bevis sits down in his kitchen, and starts telling a story about how bear lost his long tail.
John Bevis: “A long time ago, bear used to have a long fuzzy tail like the fox. And the fox got jealous of that, and he’d look at that goofy bear and say I’m gonna fix that bear someday.”
It’s hard not to get caught up in this funny story. John Bevis tells a lot of tales this time of year when life slows down. He says as long as there have been Indian people, there have been stories. Storytelling is something he learned when he was young.
John Bevis: “It wasn’t so much the gathering the children and sitting around the campfire and, you would kind of pick them up as you ease dropped on the older folks. Once the gossip started getting juicy then they would switch to Indian language. Because they knew we didn’t understand that.”
Now he’s telling these cultural tales to his 14 children, 39 grandchildren and 9 great grandchildren.
Some stories are religious, others are moral. Like how to behave well when you fall in love. Many stories are instructional like how to hunt, fish or gather roots.
John Bevis: “We’ve got more than one story about gun safety. We’ve got stories about cleaning the game, taking care of the meat.”
Bevis tells these stories inside his home and at the Umatilla Reservation’s museum and schools. It’s important for him to share stories. Growing up in Pendleton he was in the middle of racial tensions because he was part white.
John Bevis: “I’m a lima. Lima is a term we use for half-breed. I’m neither here nor there. I’m in the middle. And some people frown on that and say it’s negative. But I always looked at it as a positive. Hey I can bridge both worlds.”
Now Bevis is using stories to help wipe away stereotypes. But he says even with stories where animals talk, sometimes it can be really hard to reach children.
Bevis says growing up on-and-off the reservation is tough. Kids deal with alcohol, drugs and poverty. Bevis says he recognizes the mixed-up pain in their eyes when he visits their classrooms.
John Bevis: “Maybe I am trying to make up for all that negativity and hate I had when I was a child. And wash it away and deal with the children. Don’t hate. You’re born into a situation that you may not like, poverty, and that weighs on children. We forget as adults what it feels like to be a child.”
At one time it was easy for native children and adults to stay connected. Everyone lived together and they would gather in the winter lodge to tell stories. Bevis says the winter lodge is no more. Children are spread out in their own homes facing all kinds of challenges. He’s been there, now he offers a little hope through his stories.
John Bevis: “The stories are basically keep faith. Don’t give up. As an adult, you can change the situation. Hopefully you make the right choices and maybe a story I told a long time ago that kid will carry with him, and he’ll make the right choice.”
On this fall morning in his warm home, those problems seem far away. The biggest distractions to Bevis’ bear story are matchbox cars and the flickering TV.
SOUND: [Matchbox cars ]
John Bevis: “And so he cons the bear into going to the lake in the wintertime. And the lake had frozen over.”
But as Bevis keeps at it.
John Bevis: “And so he cuts a hole in the ice and he gets a pole and catches about five big trout. And he throws them out there on the ice for the bear to see, cause he knows the bear is coming by.”
His grandsons, 6-year-old Payton and 2-year-old Quintin, creep closer.
John Bevis: “He says really? And he says yeah I stick my tail down in that hole and when I feel a fish nibbling on it, I yanks him out!”
Soon the tiny boys are nearly at their grandfather’s feet, lying on their tummies -- listening.
John Bevis: “And the bear realizes, hey I got a tail. And the fox says yeah. And he says hey I want to fish. Well let’s go out and make you a hole on the other side of the lake where it’s a little deeper.”
Outside of Pendleton, Oregon in John Bevis’ kitchen, I’m Anna King.
John Bevis: “The fox cuts him a hole and tells the bear to stick his tail down in the hole to get a fish...”
Copyright 2009 Northwest News Network
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