Inside the Spokane Coliseum, the four of us find seats far from the stage and the enormous speakers. We begin our little war. At our table, S is shaking her head. Then again, I think of the horror stories that such a pale indetected Jew could tell about life during the Holocaust.
Linda Treasa Smith, who at that point will be three-years-old and a little devil. My mother has never failed to sell a quilt. My mother is making a quilt. He has baby blue eyes and blond hair. If my cousins knew how to dance, they might have danced on my grave.
Much lipstick and eye shadow, no foundation. We will have one child: If you think it, it can be done. Manley, the fourth grade music teacher, sets a row of musical instruments in front of us. They are my cousins, meaning we are related in the Indian way.
I have a few frinds here that sort of look out for me and when I am having a bad day, I have someone here at school to talk to. My mother is wearing her coat and shoes. I am pretty much on the happy side of life, but like all teens I do I have my "days of. All four hide their faces behind elaborate make-up; Simmons the devil, Stanley the lover, Frehley the space man.
Indians gather relatives like firewood, protection against the cold. Lori and Willette, the French horn.
They throw snowballs with precision.
My cousins are good warriors. Often, she sits in her favorite chair, the fake leather lounger we rescued from the dump. It is also too much for Steve and me, but we pretend to be disappointed when Aunt and Uncle drag us out of the Coliseum.
The waiter ignores him. We are Indians, pronounced In-din.Nov 05, · The Unauthorized Autobiography of Me Late summer night on the Spokane Indian Reservation. Ten Indians are playing basketball on a court barely illuminated. The “You” of Sherman Alexie’s “The Unauthorized Autobiography of Me” Posted on January 24, by Cali Sherman Alexie’s “The Unauthorized Autobiography of Me” is.
AN EXAMPLE OF A SHORT AUTOBIOGRAPHY. I was born on a warm, sunny day in June (Date) in (Place of Birth), (Country). Julie was the other one to raise me.
She taught me everything from spelling and math to getting dressed. She was the one person I have always looked up to, figuratively speaking. She is very smart, gorgeous, and of course, very independent. Concept of Home: A home to me is where the heart is, not just a building, but where my family is.
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Learn how to write your autobiography with these tips and turn your life experience into a story others will enjoy reading.Download