Manda and the Fish

Manda and the Fish
By Noah Bella Michaelis

Once upon a time there was an Oneida girl named Manda. Her parents named her after the river that flowed through the meadow beside their village. Manda lived with her older brother, Kʌ́:leks, which means lion, and her younger brother, Atú:nyoteʼ, which means eagle, and, of course, with her mother and father.
As the clan mother, Manda’s mother made all the decisions for their longhouse. She kept the tradition of the male members of the family being the only ones who hunted, fished, trapped, and collected raw material for their house.
Manda loved watching her father and brothers fish at the river that was her namesake. She always wished she could join them and try to catch a fish of her own. When she was eighteen years old, Manda began learning what it meant to be a clan mother. One winter day, she sat down in her longhouse and told all the younger children a true story about a time that changed their Haudenosaunee history.
“Come, children,” she said. “Sit around the fire and listen to the story I am about to tell. This is a story that changed everything you know today and everything you will know in the future.”
“Tell us! Tell us!” said the children.
“Shhh!” said Manda. “Quite down and let me begin my story.”
The kids grew silent as Manda began to speak.

***

When I was your age, I wasn’t allowed to fish, hunt, trap or do anything that my father and brothers were allowed to do. I had to help my mother with her work. The reason I wasn’t allowed to do anything the men did was because I was a girl. Women and girls were supposed to plant crops, make clothing, and create the tools we needed for the longhouse. While the men caught wild animals to eat and collected raw material for our clothing, the women stayed behind in the village.
I remember sitting in front of our longhouse and carving a spoon out of a deer antler while I watched my father on the far side of our village teach my brothers to catch fish. He showed them how to place the bait on the hook and how to cast out their lines. I watched as my father taught my brothers and fished with them daily. It was something that I longed to do, as well. But our tradition prevented me from having anything to do with fishing.
One day, as my father and brothers came towards the village with what I thought was a measly catch, I decided that I would gather my courage and ask my father to teach me.
That night, as my father settled down after supper, I asked him to tuck me in.
“Of course, Manda,” he said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.“
We went into the longhouse together and I climbed up to my bench. My father tucked me in and sang me my goodnight song. Then I asked him the question that had been boiling inside of me.
“Father…before you leave…umm…”
“What is it?” he said with a sweet smile, “I see that something is troubling you.”
“I was wondering if you would teach me to fish like my brothers.” I tried to sound serious.
“Teach you to fish?” he said, his voice rising.
“Uh, yea. Pretty please,” I murmured, trying not to sound intimidated.
“I can’t, Manda,” my father said. “You know that I would be breaking our tradition if I taught you how to fish.” He rose from my bench and told me to not dwell on these thoughts. “Now, get some sleep,” he said, and he walked out of the longhouse.
My sadness weighed on me, but the next morning during breakfast I thought long and hard about what I should do. I devised a plan. The day seemed to pass extra slowly but before I knew it, I was on my bench waiting for the sun to rise. As the first rays of sunlight filtered in through the opening in the top of the longhouse, I got down from my bench and crept towards my brothers. I was very close to grabbing my brother Kʌ́:leks’s fishing rod when I stepped on a twig. Crack! The sound resonated through the longhouse. I paused, hoping everyone was still asleep.