Q.‘I felt like sinking to the floor’. Why did Zitkala-Sa say so?

When Zitkala-Sa's long hair was forcibly cut at the Carlisle Indian School, she experienced something far deeper than a simple haircut. In her Native American culture, shingled hair carried the weight of mourning, cowardice, or the mark of a defeated warrior. The missionaries saw it as a hygiene measure or a step toward "civilization," but for an eight-year-old girl who had grown up on the Yankton reservation, it was an assault on everything she understood herself to be.

Her mother was the only person in the world who would truly understand this violation. Back home, her mother represented continuity with tradition, with the stories and customs that gave meaning to daily life. She was the keeper of their cultural memory, the one who had taught Zitkala-Sa what it meant to be Nakota. When the white teachers dragged her from under the bed and sheared her hair despite her desperate resistance, they weren't just cutting strands — they were severing her connection to her people's way of life.

The anguish she felt was isolating in the extreme. She was surrounded by people who saw her tears as childish stubbornness, who believed they were doing her a favor by erasing her "savage" ways. Her mother, by contrast, would have recognized the cut hair for what it truly was: a symbolic scalping, a public shaming, a forced transformation that no child should endure. The yearning wasn't just for comfort — it was for witness, for someone who could validate that her grief was real and justified. …

The chapter "Memories of Childhood" presents two powerful autobiographical accounts that delve into the cultural identity conflicts faced by marginalized communities. Through the experiences of Zitkala-Sa, a Native American woman, and Bama, a Dalit writer from India, we witness the profound impact of discrimination and the struggle to maintain dignity and self-respect in the face of oppressive systems. Both narratives highlight how dominant cultures attempt to strip away the unique identities of minority groups, leading to internal and external conflicts.

In Bama's excerpt, "We Too Are Human Beings," she recounts her childhood experiences with untouchability and caste discrimination. One particular incident stands out vividly: Bama, a young schoolgirl, observes an elder from her community carrying a packet of food (vadais) for the landlord. What initially strikes her as amusing – the elder holding the packet by a string, without letting it touch his body – soon becomes a source of confusion and then profound understanding, thanks to her elder brother.

It is in this context that the crucial conversation takes place. Bama, innocent and unaware of the deep-seated caste prejudices, finds the elder's manner of carrying the food quite funny. She describes how he held the packet by the string, making it swing like a pendulum, and then offered it to the landlord without touching him. When she narrates this incident to her elder brother, Annan, he explains the humiliating reality behind it.

Annan, who is more experienced and aware of the social dynamics, clarifies to Bama that the elder was not being funny but was forced to act that way due to the practice of untouchability. People from their community were considered "untouchable" and were not allowed to touch members of the upper castes or their belongings, including food. This act of carrying food by a string was a symbol of their forced subservience and the dehumanizing nature of the caste system. …