Quotes About Belonging

I realized that I might be a lonely Indian boy, but I was not alone in the loneliness. There were millions of other Americans who had left their birthplaces in search of a dream. (217)

I think I was born with a suitcase.

This is who I am. This is who I have always been. I am in pain. I am always in pain. But I always find my way to the story. And I always find my way home.

Well, life is a constant struggle between being an individual and being a member of the community.

Traveling between Reardan and Wellpinit, between the little white town and the reservation, I always felt like a stranger. I was half Indian in one place and half white in the other. It was like being Indian was my job, but it was only a part-time job. And it didn't pay well at all.

Estranged from the tribe that gives no protection, What happens to the soul that hates its reflection?

I had left the tribe, and I was being punished for that.

Last night I missed two free throws which would have won the game against the best team in the state. The farm town high school I play for is nicknamed the Indians, and I'm probably the only actual Indian ever to play for a team with such a mascot. This morning I pick up the sports page and read the headline: INDIANS LOSE AGAIN. Go ahead and tell me none of this is supposed to hurt me very much.

Sherman Alexie

But despite the fact that Reardan is a tiny town, people can still be strangers to each other.

I am a zero on the rez. And if you subtract zero from zero, you still have zero. So what's the point of subtracting when the answer is always the same?

I didn't belong Because maybe I never wanted To belong. When everybody else danced and sang, I sat silently in my room with books, Books, and books. I used books for self-defense And as stealth bombers: I am better than you Because I have read more books than you; I am Beloved by these books; I am beloved by words.

Because the thing you learn as a hugely ambitious Indian is that you're often going to be the only Indian in the room, so you'd better get used to it.

If God really loved Indians, he would have made us white people.

This is who I am. This is who I have always been. I am in pain. I am always in pain. But I always find a way to the story. And I always find my way home.

He was the loser Indian father of a loser Indian son living in a world built for winners.

They call me an apple because they think I'm red on the outside and white on the inside.

I pretended I belonged.

Junior talks about it—relating to dozens if not hundreds of tribes. Even as the world tries to define you, narrow the definition of you, don't do it to yourself. True

Mostly, I just think Mr. P is a lonely old man who used to be a lonely young man. And for some reason I don't understand, lonely white people love to hang around lonelier Indians.

Perhaps everybody, indigenous and not, lives on their own kind of reservation.

So, back in the day, weird people threatened the strength of the tribe. If you weren't good for making food, shelter, or babies, then you were tossed out on your own." "But we're not primitive like that anymore." "Oh, yes, we are. Weird people still get banished." "You mean weird people like

I was successful and acceptable and loved because I was—and still am—great at negotiating with whiteness. But that means my white friends often mistakenly believe that my ability to successfully negotiate the white world means that I am white—or more white than Native. My white friends can mistakenly believe that my intellectual and artistic abilities are intrinsically white.

The people at home," I said. "A lot of them call me an apple." "Do they think you're a fruit or something?" he asked. "No, no," I said. "They call me an apple because they think I'm red on the outside and white on the inside." "Ah, so they think you're a traitor