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Camp Internet History & Social Studies
The Maidu and the Sierras
As Wonoma walked to class she thought about Grandmother's
words. Wonoma knew Grandmother longed for the days of her childhood,
when art was in everything and everyone an artist. Now all the
younger Maidu worked for John Bidwell, plowing scars into mother
earth, or other labor that offended those like Grandmother who
remembered the old times. |
The sadness Wonoma felt for Grandmother lifted when she heard
it was her turn to visit Mrs. Bidwell's home after class. Wonoma
was careful to not touch any of the treasures that filled the
enormous house.
When Wonoma entered her own dark little house she said, "Father, we need a window. The great house has so much light it makes me happy." "Our houses have never had windows," said Grandmother. "We can leave the door open for light." "A window is a good idea," said Father. Grandmother slipped out with a fierce glance at Wonoma. Wonoma reached for her, but it was too late. "Father, was I wrong to suggest a window? I don't want to hurt Grandmother." Father held Wonoma, and she smelled the fresh scent of the wheat fields in his work shirt. "These are hard times for Grandmother," he said. "But our only hope is to learn the ways of the white people." |