Cricket: Secret Child of a Sixties Supermodel (Outskirts Press, 2012)
Anne Minard | 2/26/13 | Indian Country Today
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| Susan Fedorko (second from right) at Grand Portage Rendezvous Pow Wow in June 2006. (Photo courtesy Lisa Dahmen) |
Fedorko’s story is a bittersweet mix of hard-won healing and humor. She recalls gazing at her then 11-month-old daughter, Samantha: “I broke down, thinking how terrible it must have been for my birth mother to part with me. It would rip me apart to be separated from Samantha.” Just pages later, she captures the voice of one of her husband’s good-old-boy friends, “whose accent made him sound like his name could have been Cletus.” Her experiences have been diverse, her responses unfailingly human, and her writing utterly frank.
Thousands of Native children—up to 35 percent of Indian youth in some states—were taken from their homes and adopted into white families before the 1978 Indian Child Welfare Act. Fedorko is one of them. Her story will resonate both with those who have reconnected and those still dreaming about that day.
How did you react when you first realized who your birth mother was, and how do you look at it now?
Cathee Dahmen became a famous supermodel in the 1960s.
As
an adoptee, you fantasize about who your birth parents could be. What
did they look like? What were they like? What types of jobs did they
have? You imagine that you may get photos of them someday, normal
photos. Perhaps they would be blowing out birthday candles, sitting on
the couch with a sibling, standing near a Christmas tree. Some of the
very first images I saw of my birth mom were on the cover of Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar.
I was flooded with new images of Cathee for the first few months; she
was photographed by some of the very best fashion photographers in the
world. The very first images that I saw, I studied them intensely. I
could see myself in those photos.… I could also see her in both my
daughters.
Then as a few weeks passed, I began to run things through my mind.
The “whys” would always surface. Without her or the principals involved
in my adoption being around or alive, it was hard to capture an accurate
account of why or why not. I have to hope that things happened the way
they did for a reason, and accept that. It has now been more than 10
years since I have been found. I have been able to digest a lot since
November 2002. I am very proud of who my birth mother is.
In your book, you describe near misses. Can you summarize some of those?
I have been so close to running into the Dahmen family many times. In
September of 2001 my husband Tim and I went with friends on a
motorcycle ride. We made it to Grand Marais, Minnesota and spent the
weekend there. Little did I know that Cathee’s grave lay a few miles
beyond the B&B where we were staying. I decided to stay back at the
B&B instead of riding an additional 30 miles to Grand Portage
Casino. A great number of my relatives live on the reservation in Grand
Portage. Knowing now that several Dahmen cousins work at the casino, I
could have run into cousins, aunts and uncles on that trip. Both my
grandmothers—my adoptive Grandma Rose and biological Grandma Mary
attended the same church in South Minneapolis. My husband Tim’s
childhood friend, Jon Kusler, worked at Alliant Techsystems, in New
Brighton, Minnesota. Jon would stop by our house after work. I
discovered that Jon’s shift supervisor was my aunt Darlene
Dahmen-Oakgrove, Cathee’s sister.
In reconnecting with your birth family, have you gotten any answers?
How have you reconnected with the Native spiritual and cultural parts of yourself?
As an adult I do not understand the customs and ceremonies; however, I am learning. In my book, I recall the first time I visited Cathee’s grave. I was with my Auntie Barb, and I spent a couple moments in silence talking to Cathee. I had not noticed that Barb had been fumbling in her purse for her cigarettes. I noticed that she had taken out a smoke—I began thinking to myself, “She is not going to light up right here, is she?” Barb then snapped her cigarette in half and put the tobacco into her hand, and she asked me for my hand and sprinkled the remaining tobacco into it. I thought to myself: Cathee died of emphysema, which was tobacco related! Does Barb think she is missing it so much she feels compelled to put some on her grave? I had no idea what offering tobacco meant, because no one ever explained it to me. I do understand it now.
Your book describes your early efforts to be recognized by either your father’s or your mother’s tribe. Have those efforts been fruitful?
I tried getting enrolled from the age of 18; I made over 25 documented pleas to the adoption agency to help me find my tribe and family roots. I had given up many times and gained strength and tried all over again. Finally, in 2002, my half-sister Sarah decided to find her long-lost sister Cricket. When it came time to try to get enrolled with either my birth father’s tribe [White Earth Nation] or my birth mother’s tribe [Grand Portage] I had discovered that somehow I had been enrolled in 1992 with Grand Portage. I was so happy that I had been recognized and had been enrolled 11 years already. I was also told that I had per-capita payments accumulated under that enrollment number.
But then, the Grand Portage Tribal Council ruled that my enrollment had been an error, so they gave me a new enrollment number from that point on. I do not understand to this day why they thought my blood quantum had changed from 1992 to 2002. It was very disappointing, but I am grateful and happy that I am enrolled.
Why do you consider yourself one of the lucky adoptees?
My adoptive parents were in their mid-40s when they adopted me. They are now in their mid-90s. Both are wonderful parents. I could not have asked for a better match. They made sure that I was loved, healthy, educated and that I had my faith. I grew up with one older sister and one older brother. I have nothing but good memories of my adoptive family. In my heart they will always be my parents and siblings. I do count myself lucky because my placement worked out. I was not neglected or abused. I have heard many stories from other adoptees that were not so fortunate. My heart breaks for them; they endured horrible conditions.
As an adoptee, you struggled with low self-esteem. What advice would you give to other adoptees?
I would emphasize that your adoption was not your fault. Be strong and be the best that you can be. That is hard to swallow at times. I will be the first to admit that I have often felt like I did not belong, or that I was not wanted. I spent a great deal of my life being shy and unsure of my place. I have my faith and always tell myself, “I am worthy.” I do think that I have gained more self-assurance now that I know my roots. I don’t think Cathee tolerated any crap from anyone. I suddenly have her strength. I keep her photos close so I am reminded that I can still dream big, just as she did. Her beauty was captured during a difficult time in her life. I am a part of a large network of Native American adoptees founded by Sandy White Hawk. Sandy’s group, [WeAreComingHome.com], is such a spiritual gift to be a part of. I have been with the group since 2003. It started with just a handful of Native adoptees and has since grown to more than 200.
Read more at http://indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com/2013/02/26/reclaiming-her-identity-conversation-native-adoptee-and-author-susan-fedorko-147877 Suzie also contributed to TWO WORLDS and CALLED HOME: LOST CHILDREN OF THE INDIAN ADOPTION PROJECTS.
Susan Fedorko had always
known she was put up for adoption before she was even a year old. And she had
always known she was Native American. But when she turned eighteen, she felt the
need to know more about herself. She received some information about her birth
parents through the adoption agency, but there was so little to go on. She gave
up her search many times. For the next twenty years Susie was busy with marriage
and motherhood. Finally, in 2002 and at the age of forty, she received the phone
call that would change her life. Someone was looking to find her. And what she
discovered was astonishing. Susan’s birth mother was the first Native American
supermodel, Cathee Dahmen—an international fashion model with two celebrity
marriages under her belt—and her great uncle was the famed Native American
artist, George Morrison. Cricket is the incredible story of one woman’s journey
to discover her roots and define her place in a newly complex and extended
family—with her adoptive family, her birth family, and her husband and
daughters. It’s the story of who she was “before,” who she became “after,” and
how it all happened.
A lifelong resident of Minneapolis, Minnesota, Susan “Cricket”
Fedorko (Grand Portage Band of Chippewa - Oijbwe) has contributed her writing to
two anthologies on the subject of being adopted and has done numerous media
interviews. This new memoir details her astonishing 22-year search for answers
and describes touching reunions with both of her birth-families in two Minnesota
tribal nations. Her Chippewa – Oijbwe, birthmother, a famous supermodel, died in
1997, a short distance from Susan’s current home.
