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176 community life, for we understand that your world has to be our world, too. But as we adopt our ways to yours, we do not want to forget that we are Indian. Some of us are sensitive, and some of us are shy. Sometimes our names may seem ludicrous to you. To us they have meaning and beauty, and we do not like you to laugh about them. Please remember that we are just as different from one another as you and your brothers and sisters and friends are different from one another. Because some of us behave badly sometimes, do not decide that all of us are like that. Don’t make of us that thing that you call a stereotype. Let the lawmakers in our Congress know that as they pass new laws affecting our people and our land we want to understand these laws and what they mean for us. We want to share the planning of them. What we want is opportunity. We will do the rest. Mary Ellen Stevens Socobasin (1947–1988) Socobasin was a teacher much beloved in the Passamaquoddy communities for her knowledge of and passion for sharing tribal traditions and language. In 1979 she wrote a bilingual story about a young girl, Maliyan, drawing on oral stories from tribal elders. The tribe reissued that story in 2000 on an interactive cd-rom designed to facilitate language learning. The following poem, “Passamaquoddy Girl,” has been widely reprinted in books, including The Wabanakis of Maine and the Maritimes. Passamaquoddy Girl A proud Indian girl grows up on the reservation Takes a walk to the white community. She knew nothing of “them.” She was greeted with laughter Mary Ellen Stevens 177 She was treated unfairly For she did nothing to “them.” She was called a redskin. She looked upon herself saw only brown skin She wonders what is wrong with “them.” She is called an Apache with a sneer. She says, I am Passamaquoddy, eyes full of tears. She asks herself what have I done to “them.” They make funny noises imitating her language. She says to “them” I know two languages. Doesn’t that mean anything to you. But to “them,” they only understood one language. The language of hate. She asks herself what have I done to “them.” They don’t know her. Still they condemn. She committed no crime still they prosecute. Stones of injustice are thrown at her. Her heart starts to fill with bitterness. She proclaims her hate for “them.” Years of ignorance go by. Then she realized what was happening. She was getting to be just like “them.” She says I am not one of “them.” I will not condemn all of “them.” For I am Passamaquoddy A proud Indian woman. ...

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