Indian Summer

I spent a very hot sultry day today in the new American Indian Museum. It was fascinating and really well done. I didn't see anywhere near all of it. Every time I go to a museum, I leave with a LITTLE more knowledge and a HUGE understanding of how much more there is to learn. They have a section of the exhibit that deals with each of the Indian nations. I spent a lot of time in the Apache section, because it was the first one I came to, and a lot in Cherokee, because we used to go to their NC reservation quite often. One thing confuses me, though. (OK, many things confuse me, but one thing confuses me about Cherokees right at the minute.) The father of Hilary Weiss, my high school friend, was David Weiss, a drama professor at UVa. She told a story about when he was directing "Unto These Hills", the Cherokee outdoor drama in Maggie Vally, NC. She said he told one of the Indians who was playing a warrior to dance while he was waiting to stand lookout, so the guy jumped around and flapped his arms a little, and her dad said, "No. Don't just make it up. Do a real tribal dance.", and the actor said, "I can't, man. Cherokees don't dance!" We high-school girls hooted at that story, but in the museum, they had Cherokee dancing costumes, so I guess the actor just didn't know how to dance and didn't want to admit it.