I think the Spirit, is the one thing we have to rely on. It has been handed to us as a live and precious coal. And each generation has to make that decision whether they want to blow on that coal to keep it alive or throw it away... Our language, our histories and culture are like a big ceremonial fire that's been kicked and stomped and scattered...Out in the darkness we can see those coals glowing. But our generation, whether in tribal government or wherever we find ourselves--Choctaw, Cherokee, Chickasaw, Creek, Seminole--are coal gatherers. We bring the coals back, assemble them and breathe on them again, so we can spark a flame around which we might warm ourselves.
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Not only are they raking it up, they are raking it towards the tee, so every ball that goes in there is into the grain, ... You can't control your shot and you can't normally get to the greens. You either hit it down the middle or you bomb it in the gallery over there where it's stomped down.
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