Telling My Story: Thanksgiving isn't the only time to learn about American Indians. (EndOf The Day).

I am Muskogee Creek Indian and an associate professor of multicultural education at a university in rural western Pennsylvania. Around Thanksgiving time, I often get calls from local principals and teachers, who want me to speak about my heritage. I am disappointed that I'm only asked to speak about it for Thanksgiving. American Indian culture, history, and traditions are woven throughout the fabric of this country-way beyond one day of the year. But I go anyway. Why? I go because I enjoy educating children and their teachers about the true history and culture of American Indians. And I go because it is my only opportunity to raise their awareness.

The schools and classrooms are almost always decorated with handmade artwork of Pilgrim and Indian pictures, peace pipes, headbands, masks, and more-a testament to the interest of the teachers and students in historical American Indians.

I begin my presentation by sharing information about Muskogee Creek Indians, and our tribe. I locate the original home base of my tribe on a map. Then I ask for any questions.

Invariably, I hear: "How did you get here, a horse?" "Where do you live, a tipi?" "You're not Indian! Where are your feathers?" Although I'm asked these questions dozens of times, they're still painful and frustrating to hear. They reaffirm for me that teachers unwittingly continue to teach about American Indians in a way that reinforces stereotypes and misconceptions to children. Students need to know that American Indians don't just look like those in movies.

Years ago, I would occasionally bring my young children to these presentations. It was a way both to instill pride in them about their culture, and to have the schoolchildren see authentic American Indian dress and how it was used. After answering some questions, I would begin to dress my children (who came in everyday clothes) in their regalia, transforming them in front of the class. As I dressed them I'd explain their regalia and each item's significance and function. Soon from the students came "whoo, whoo," "how," and "Hey, he's Indian." I immediately used these responses as a teachable moment. I asked the students if they had ever heard Indian people talk. Their answer usually was "Yes, in movies." I would remind them that I am American Indian, and ask if I am speaking the way they are demonstrating. No, they would say. They'd listen more intently, as I'd continue to ask why they think my children are Indian dressed in their regalia, as opposed to in their regular clothes. I'd explain to the students th at for special occasions we wear our regalia, just as they wear special clothes for a wedding. This type of dialogue changes the entire atmosphere. Teachers also begin to piece together what I am trying to help the children understand. With a new level of understanding, I demonstrate and explain some of the dances we do at powwows. The music, the bells, the movements bring awe to the room. There are no more "how" sounds; the children are engrossed.

After the presentation, they ask new questions: "How did you learn to dance like that?" "Do you know your tribe's language?" "Could you say some words?" "Is that real buffalo skin?" Having done these presentations for the past decade, I've found that this process needs to take place.

Each November, as I prepare for another presentation, I brace myself for that first question-"How did you get here, a horse?" But now, I try to hear it as another opportunity to plant a seed of new understanding. My hope is that teachers will be able to take on this teaching themselves.

Pamela Soeder teaches at Slippery Rock University and makes presentations to schools. If you are interested in other ways to integrate American Indian culture into your curriculum,