We were viewing slikes of Al Syke's trip to the Soviet Union at our Trego hunting camp a couple of years ago and telling him how daring he was when Al made the comment - "If you don't travel now and then, you become too afraid to leave home".

The same can be said for sticking close to home base of opinions, stereotypes, and prejudices. Over the weekend I had the chance to wash away a few stale old misnomvers I've harboredabout [American] Indians for years and continue to hear perpetuated by people who should know better.

To be honest, I was apprehensive about attending the Lac Courte Oreilles annual pow-wow when a buddy invited me to take a 24 hour pass from the news beat. I'm a pure Slav-German white boy whose primary contact with Indians has been sharing bus seats in Minneapolis,[Minnesota], buying wild rice at Red Cliff [reservation] and staring out the car window while making remarks about their cars and housing while speeding through reservation land.

Jeff's finance is predominantly Ojibwa and her folks own a home on Chief Lake [Lac Courte Oreilles Reservation]--withing reservation boundaries--about 25 miles south of Hayward, Wisconsin. Finding their beautiful modified A-frame empty Saturday night, we headed for the pow-wow at the Tribal community Center.

Driving onto the pow-wow grounds, I grew self-concious. There were Indians everywhere. Most were dressed in traditional costumes of every imaginable color and style. Many looked like those I've seen on Wisconsin Dells commercials while others appeared to have sewn their own.

As white men, we were clearly in the minority and stuck out like sore thumbs. Ifound myself wishing I'd worn something more unobrusive than my preppy yellow short and white socks.

Approaching the arena area, we saw groups of young men seated in semi-circles in the center of a large railed ring, thythmicly pounding drums. dozens, no probably hundreds of costumed Indians hop-stepped around the outside [ring]. An announcer explained this was an "Inter-tribal dance" which honored "the Great Spirit" and "celebrated all forms of life --the sun, the grass, the flowers, animals and all mankind."

The place also had a carnival atmoshphere. the air was rich with the smells of grilling brats and hamburgers, roast venison, and wild rice. Kids charged around, sucking on snow cones and sodas. Indians and whites wandered around the outside of the dance ring reviewing table after table of Indian jewelry, artwork, clothing and collectables.

The dancing went on for hours. I eventually grew daring and mingled with the masses. I sampled fry bread and walleye. I chowed down and Indian taco and two sonwcones. Everyone was consistantly friendly and tolerant of my presence. Several answered my questions about a particular dance or practice.

Munching down a burger, I wondered whehter me or my friends in Pierce County would be as receptive to Native Americans who might drop by the Polkafest, county fair or our church dinners. I doubt it.

My Indian stereotypes didn't fit any more. In fact, I felt like a Grade A 'redneck' for allowing them to take root and grow.

Heading back to Chief Lake, my hosts provided me unqualified royal treatment. As we became more comfortable with one another, conversation touched on social problems, open discrimination from whites who occupied cabins on prime real estate within reservation acreage,uphill battles with alcoholism and apathy toward hope for change.

Sunday's visit to the pow-wow was more enlightening. I heard the emcee [announcer] tell details of the dances. He talked of honor and tradition, cultural differences, problems with unemployment, unfair treaties and the right of self-determination. Several times he introduced tribal members who'd grown up at Lac Courte Oreilles Reservation, left to earn college degrees then returned to help the loval people.

Prior to last weekend, I was vaguely familiar with the tribe by way of it's public radion station, WOJB. The "Indian station" has for years entertaining my friends and I with terrific [live] blow by blow Birkebeiner ski race coverage.

My interest in attending the pow-wow was tweaked by a July 8 [1990] front page Wall Street Journal article about the station. Its FM beam provides a voice which carries Indian Culture--and controversy--beyond the reservation boundaries.

I wanted to see first hand these 7,500 Ojibwa people who have the guts to broadcast news, music and opinion which might be contrary to the 100,000 white folks living within their listening area.

In retrospect, I'm glad I went. the experience helped me to crank up my awareness of the uphill battles Indians must wage to even gain a shot at many of the social educational opportunities I took for granted.

I also learned it can be humbling to step forward and increase one's cultural awareness. In looking over my shoulder, I'm none to proud of what little information I built such strong--and bigotted--opinions upon.