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Chicano-Indian American Cultural Center miscellaneous newsletters, 1977-1978
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4 of people you have traveled from Iowa City with up to the meeting. There are several pintos (prisoners) standing around in the corridor outside one of the classroom on the second floor. They look at you momentarily expressionless and then smile. Inside the meeting room there are several more pintos, about seven or eight in total. They are American Indian (Mesquakies from Tama) and Chicano (from Texas). People mingle about holding one conversation momentarily and then another, eyeing the table at the back of the room that is loaded with potato chips, doritos, pretzels and an ice-filled tub with soft drinks. A tallman walks to the front of the room. He is massive-built above the waist. A rippling upper torso, think muscular thighs, in faded denim jeans and shirt. He looks out over over the crowd now seated, waiting for silence. The monthly speech by Preston M. Duncan of the American Indian/Chicano Cultural Center begins: "Aho! Cousins, Brothers and Sisters. This is a very good day. I am hoping you have had an interesting and happy journey--an above all--a very safe journey back to your destinations. We, of the Center are grateful and appreciate your interest and show of support by being with us today. We are aware that because of the strict enforcement of our limitation of guests there would be more of us today from the free world. We of the Center depend upon you for our strength, and again in grateful appreciation not only from us, but from the rest of the general convict population, we sincerely thank you for your support and interest in our welfare." The big, strong features of this man from the Tama Settlement in Iowa belie the gentle graceful manner as he speaks. Preston was brought up by his grandparents, whose beliefs were deeply rooted in the Sax and Fox mysticism of the Old Ways. He is an artist, "from the woods," as he says, and the long solitary periods he spent there are obvious in the exquisite, finely-detailed ink drawings he has made. Delicate, serene studies of wood creatures--far from the lethargic neurosis of caged zoo animals--serene in their own surroundings. As he stands at the front of the room, sometimes hesitating yet never diffident, I think that the gentle, quiet-spoken artist is truly free. You can see it here.
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4 of people you have traveled from Iowa City with up to the meeting. There are several pintos (prisoners) standing around in the corridor outside one of the classroom on the second floor. They look at you momentarily expressionless and then smile. Inside the meeting room there are several more pintos, about seven or eight in total. They are American Indian (Mesquakies from Tama) and Chicano (from Texas). People mingle about holding one conversation momentarily and then another, eyeing the table at the back of the room that is loaded with potato chips, doritos, pretzels and an ice-filled tub with soft drinks. A tallman walks to the front of the room. He is massive-built above the waist. A rippling upper torso, think muscular thighs, in faded denim jeans and shirt. He looks out over over the crowd now seated, waiting for silence. The monthly speech by Preston M. Duncan of the American Indian/Chicano Cultural Center begins: "Aho! Cousins, Brothers and Sisters. This is a very good day. I am hoping you have had an interesting and happy journey--an above all--a very safe journey back to your destinations. We, of the Center are grateful and appreciate your interest and show of support by being with us today. We are aware that because of the strict enforcement of our limitation of guests there would be more of us today from the free world. We of the Center depend upon you for our strength, and again in grateful appreciation not only from us, but from the rest of the general convict population, we sincerely thank you for your support and interest in our welfare." The big, strong features of this man from the Tama Settlement in Iowa belie the gentle graceful manner as he speaks. Preston was brought up by his grandparents, whose beliefs were deeply rooted in the Sax and Fox mysticism of the Old Ways. He is an artist, "from the woods," as he says, and the long solitary periods he spent there are obvious in the exquisite, finely-detailed ink drawings he has made. Delicate, serene studies of wood creatures--far from the lethargic neurosis of caged zoo animals--serene in their own surroundings. As he stands at the front of the room, sometimes hesitating yet never diffident, I think that the gentle, quiet-spoken artist is truly free. You can see it here.
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