Keeping a double standard, he would go out drinking and seeing women each night while his new wife had to work two jobs and run the house. Quick to remarry because she was in need of money to support her family, Harjo’s stepfather was seventeen years older than her mother and an abusive drill sergeant. Harjo’s mother divorced her biological father when she was five and her younger siblings were no more than babies. When I found out that she had written a memoir I was moved to read it.Ĭrazy Brave is Harjo’s raw, poignant story of growing up in an abusive home in Creek Territory close to Tulsa, Oklahoma and what lead her to study fine arts. Harjo usually includes background information about each poem so that readers can empathize with her as she addresses current events that still plague her people to this day. From both Creek and Cherokee tribal nations, she writes about her people’s history with such a poignancy and grace. Happy International Women’s Day, March 8, 2019! Several times as I was reading this I had the odd thought, that this woman has never been "another brick in the wall."įor me, discovering Joy Harjo was like finding out that I have this cool, quirky aunt who finally wants to talk to me, after the resolution of some decades-long family feud. Nonetheless, I fell in love with her wildness. Harjo had taken us deeper into the wisdom that has come with her maturity. Midlife is muddier, knee-deep in the gray areas, thicker and more complicated as we age. I think so much of youth is filled with black and white choices. I think we often assume that life is more difficult or we are tasked with more challenging issues when we are younger, but now that I'm at midlife, I think it is the exact opposite. ![]() I loved this concept of “the knowing,” and I am guided by my intuition, too, but I wish that she had addressed the application of “the knowing” at more mature ages. She tells the reader the truth (she always tells the truth, by the way, you can feel it): she has sometimes listened to “the knowing,” and other times (like when choosing her violent and alcoholic male partners) she has intentionally ignored this guidance, or intuition. She tells us that “the knowing” speaks “softly, wisely,” and that you are always clear on what “the knowing” is telling you, but you don't always listen. It is a strand of the divine, a pathway for the ancestors and teachers who love us. The knowing was my rudder, a shimmer of intelligent light, unerring in the midst of this destructive, terrible, and beautiful life. Harjo explains that she has lived her life being guided by “the knowing.” She writes: I wanted to know what she's done in the last forty years, when she's been publishing poetry, raising children, recording albums, touring, playing a saxophone and channeling spirits.ĭamn, lady. Why? Those of us who are older than our early 20s already know about those wild and wonderful things that can happen at those ages, like choosing the wrong lovers, choosing the wrong studies in school, and having conflicts with parents and siblings. Harjo wrote this memoir in her late 50s, but she only takes us from before her birth until her early 20s. It's wild, and it's definitely not for everyone, but, frankly, I was disappointed that it was as short as it was. It's not literal, it's not chronological, it's not traditional, it's not predictable. ![]() ![]() One minute she's telling you what it was like to be a 4-year-old with an alcoholic father, and the next minute she's telling you to hold on a minute because one of her ancestors just showed up in the room, demanding she share her story. If you could imagine combining Isabel Allende's The House of the Spirits with Miguel Ruiz's The Four Agreements, you might come close to understanding Ms. Crazy Brave to be more specific, and it makes me a little giddy that a major publishing house is still taking risks enough to print a story like this one. Joy Harjo published this memoir in 2012, at the age of 61, and I promise you, it is unlike any other life story you have ever read.
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