GRAND
RONDE - As a youngster, Grand Ronde tribal member Jim Holmes remembers
being read to from a book shaped like a rabbit.
The
title escapes him. Maybe it was "Peter Cottontail."
Regardless,
he always was asking his parents to read to him.
"He
wanted us to continually read to him," said Jim's father, Merle.
"About the time he was starting to talk, we started calling
him Rabbit."
The
name stuck through Jim's childhood and into adulthood.
His
father is a descendant of Chief Joseph Shangretta, a well-known
medicine man in Grand Ronde before the turn of the century.
"I've
been a member of the Medicine Society for about 12 years,"
Merle said. "Someone said I should give my son the formal name
of Rabbit."
The
name was researched, and it was determined Rabbit was pronounced
Il-la-lik in the Warm Springs tribal dialect and Wa-la-lik in Wasco
tribal language.
"When
I told him I was going to give him his name, the Medicine Society
supported me," Merle said.
So,
during a Saturday ceremony that began about 12:30 p.m. with a traditional
Native American dinner of elk, venison, salmon, dried corn, roots
and berries, and lasted until early Sunday morning with medicine
dancing and singing, Jim was given the name Rabbit in both tribal
dialects.
Merle
sought the assistance of Warm Springs Chief Nelson Wallulatum and
two Warm Springs medicine men. They traveled to Grand Ronde to lend
their support.
Afterward,
Jim was filled with emotion.
"Honestly,
how many people even know an Indian chief," he said. "I
was given a name by one. It's a pretty big honor for me. It's a
big happening.
"It's
a spiritual type of thing. There's a lot of personal fulfillment,
and I'm excited for the community."
Nora
Kimsey, the oldest living Grand Ronde Tribal elder at 95, said she
doesn't remember a naming ceremony ever taking place in her lifetime.
Her son, Marvin, took part and said he was honored to do so.
Native
Americans from as far away as Idaho traveled to Grand Ronde.
Trevor
Edson from Boise was there. Merle said Edson is a friend of the
Holmes family, members of which attended his wedding.
One
part of the day that stood out was the gift-giving. Throughout the
naming ceremony, a select group of people came forward and received
a treasured gift from Merle.
As
he looked on, his son, whose arms were spread wide, was draped with
colorful blankets and shawls.
Individuals
stepped forward to receive them. They were given by Merle in honor
of his son receiving his Indian name.
"He
has been gathering items for months," said Brent Merrill, editor
of the tribal newspaper, Smoke Signals. "There's a room in
his house stuffed with things. In our culture, wealth and stature
are measured by what you give to others, and what you do for other
people."
The
gift-giving culminated with Jim Holmes removing first his shirt
and then his moccasins, and handing them over to friends.
For
every individual who received a gift, the moment was packed with
emotion and importance.
Merrill
received a ribbon shirt made by his grandmother. He slipped it on
after receiving it and wore it proudly the rest of the day.
After
the ceremony, Merle Holmes was telling Merrill how good he looked
in it, and how it should be warn to events like powwows, perhaps
even to a funeral.
"This
is a huge deal for me," Merrill said. "She makes beautiful
ribbon shirts and I've always wanted one."
Hours
of medicine dancing and singing concluded the ceremony, and Merle
Holmes said the activity was certain to lift his spirits and leave
him with a good feeling about life.
"I
love the old songs," Merle said. "They are as old as time
itself. In my own family, my great-grandfather was an Indian doctor
and a chief, so it means a lot to me to see this happen.
"When
he died, and when his generation died out, we lost all of that old
knowledge that is important to me. It's something that is important
to me, something I believe in."
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