All Art Is Exploitation.

Yep, My Daddy Was An Undependable Drunk. But He'd Never Missed Any Of My Organized Games, Concerts, Plays, Or Picnics. He May Not Have Loved Me Perfectly, But He Loved Me As Well As He Could. (189)

You Know, People Speak In Poetry All The Time. They Just Don't Realize It.

I Look More Indian When I'm Serious.

Unlike Landed White Men, She Didn't Need To Climb Mountains To Experience Mystic Panic. All She Needed Was To Set Her Alarm Dock For The Next Morning, Wake When It Rang, And Go To Class.

But Something Magical Happened To Me When I Went To Reardan. Overnight I Became A Good Player. I Suppose It Had Something To Do With Confidence. I Mean, I'd Always Been The Lowest Indian On The Reservation Totem Pole - I Wasn't Expected To Be Good So I Wasn't. But In Reardan, My Coach And The Other Players Wanted Me To Be Good. They Needed Me To Be Good. They Expected Me To Be Good. And So I Became Good. I Wanted To Live Up To The Expectations. I Guess That's What It Comes Down To. The Power Of Expectations. And As They Expected More Of Me, I Expected More Of Myself, And It Just Grew And Grew.