From Northern Exposure to No Exposure
by Ramon Shiloh
On a somber evening in February 2008, Native hearts stand still. Elaine Miles takes the microphone at The Daybreak Star Cultural Center near Seattle’s Magnolia Park and gently announces her respects to the forum of mourners. Just a few feet away, her mothers’ body lays wrapped in a star blanket, free from the pain that had ravaged her body for five years.
Described as the most visible Native American figure of the 1990s, Miles is best known for her memorable role as Marilyn on “Northern Exposure”. She has appeared in several films, as well, films, including Smoke Signals, Mad Love, Skins and Tortilla Heaven, as well as in Canada’s half-hour series “The Rez”.
At the height of her success, Miles never thought her life and working career would be challenged by sizable debt, emotional distress and, in the end, a massive struggle to resurrect her career in a seemingly more competitive environment. However, when the doctors discovered her mother had colon cancer, she knew it was time to stop working.
“I don’t know if people understand Native families, but the family is the number one thing in your life and being a single mom, my mom was a priority in my life,” Miles explains. “If it wasn’t my mom, it was my son. Losing my father in 1990, and now my mom living with cancer, there was no question as to what I should do. My priority was to get her well.”
Miles had to maneuver her priorities and make sizable sacrifices to accommodate her mother’s needs. Although she received many bookings for potential roles, she turned them all down to be by her mother’s side during the chemo and radiation treatments. While she was there to champion her mother’s optimism, she had no clue how her mom was going to win this fight.
“She started to get better, but her walking ability took longer than anticipated. Then she ended up in an accident and fell, breaking her hip,” Miles says. “The radiation and chemo took a toll on her bones, and because of her age and diabetes, her bones became brittle. From then on, things went downhill.”
Early Life without Debt
Miles was born on April 7, 1960, in Pendleton, Oregon. Although her mother, Armenia, was Cayuse and her father was Nez Perce, she rose as a member of the Umatilla. She learned many traditional skills in her youth, mastering beadwork, pottery and weaving at a young age. She is also a prize-winning traditional dancer.
However, although she grew up with the values of traditional life and understood her tribal sovereignty, her observations and love for reservation life became difficult as she got older.
“Culturally, I was brought up Native American, even though I was brought up in the city,” says Miles, whose mother settled in Seattle in 1962. “But, I’d go home for the summer and spend time with my grandma and grandpa and they would teach us our traditional ways, too.”
Miles’ grandfather was a tribal interpreter who often traveled to Washington, D.C. as a spokesperson for the tribe “In those days, our elders did not speak English. We just spoke our native language. My grandpa would always say, ‘One of these days, I want to see the President actually do something for our people’ and my grandma would say the same thing,” Miles recalls. “But, our family was really never hurting for money because my grandpa raised quarter horses and my dad’s father was the first farmer in Umatilla County to own a combine. Even white farmers would come by to borrow his combine. It’s not like we were hurting for money.”
“My mom would talk the same way. She would say, ‘One day, I want us to be so independent and all be rich.’ I would say to my mom, ‘I’m a Cayuse girl, so we’ll always be broke.’ She’d always laugh because it was a joke. But, I knew I wanted to be rich and famous on my own so I didn’t need to depend on the tribe.”
Miles would soon discover that those who leave their reservation to find a better way of life are barred from their enrollment rights. When her mother grew sick, she was told that if she went back to her reservation, she would get the help she needed. However, her mom chose to remain in Seattle, so medical help was refused, based on tribal by-laws.
“My mom said to me, ‘I might not make it with this cancer. If I don’t make it, I don’t want to go back to Pendleton. Seattle is my home.’ When my mother grew sick, the tribe wasn’t there for my mom. They’re not there for us. I feel the tribe’s number one priority is to keep people on the reservation.”
Miles believes her mother gave up on life because of the massive debt she accumulated. She says people failed to tell them how much treatment and prescriptions would cost.
“Mom paid what she could, but during the last of her treatments, she refused chemo because she couldn’t pay for it,” says Miles, who hopes to build a nonprofit organization that will provide health coverage and other subsidies for tribal members like her mom who decide to leave their reservation.
The Industry Today
Miles says she didn’t decide her acting career, it was decided for her. In 1990, her mother was initially asked to audition for the portrayal of Marilyn Whirlwind, a calm, non-aggressive assistant to Dr. Joel Fleischman’s neurotic behavior, played by Rob Morrow on “Northern Exposure”.
“It was a hot summer and we were on our way to a powwow in Canada. “We were just going to stop by [the audition] and then get up there,” recalls Miles. “My mom didn’t really want to be an actress, but she had a friend who knew the casting lady from “Northern Exposure”. This woman calls my mom and says, ‘Would you like to audition?’ and my mom was like, ‘Sh@t, whatever! Yeah, OK, some woman wants me to audition.’ I’m like, ‘What’s an audition?’ So, my mom agreed to do it.”
“It’s funny because as we were sitting around waiting, the casting director’s assistant came up to me and was like, ‘Is that your hair?’ and ‘Then he reached out for it and my mother stopped him and said, ‘You’re not allowed to touch her hair! Men aren’t supposed to touch a woman’s hair!’ He freaked out and yelled, ‘Oh my god, she’s got beautiful hair!’ then he invited me to audition for the part. My mother looked at me and said, ‘Read the part so we can get the hell out of here!’”
Miles’ subsequent career throughout the 1990s was truly inspiring within the Native American consciousness. Her roles quickly made her the most recognizable Cayuse/Nez Perce Indian woman of all time and earned her a Native American Woman of the Year award in 1993 and America’s Celebrity Indian of the Year in 1995. She is glad to see more Native faces on the television and big screen and is proud that she might have something to do with that.
“Native people today are being cast for different roles other than playing just Native roles. That’s a great thing! I wish I could get out of that,” Miles says. “When people find me, they want me to be that Marilyn character. I hope to see the day when we as Native people get our own TV channel.”
Miles also hopes all Native children will one day have the creative freedom to send their message loud and clear. “Our children are going to change our industry. I’m still struggling, but my hope is for the children to shine. Where we will have our own channel, our own awards shows, we will have our own talk shows with our Native talent on there. Just like black people, yellow people, brown and white. Even Arabic people have their own channel!”
“We are the First People of this nation. We shouldn’t be fighting with each other. The opportunities should be there for us. But, we need to make it happen. There is a dream within all of us that can be reached. That’s why I say our youth will succeed, because they’re still pure in thought and are very open minded about doing things together.”
© 12/1/2008
by Ramon Shiloh
On a somber evening in February 2008, Native hearts stand still. Elaine Miles takes the microphone at The Daybreak Star Cultural Center near Seattle’s Magnolia Park and gently announces her respects to the forum of mourners. Just a few feet away, her mothers’ body lays wrapped in a star blanket, free from the pain that had ravaged her body for five years.
Described as the most visible Native American figure of the 1990s, Miles is best known for her memorable role as Marilyn on “Northern Exposure”. She has appeared in several films, as well, films, including Smoke Signals, Mad Love, Skins and Tortilla Heaven, as well as in Canada’s half-hour series “The Rez”.
At the height of her success, Miles never thought her life and working career would be challenged by sizable debt, emotional distress and, in the end, a massive struggle to resurrect her career in a seemingly more competitive environment. However, when the doctors discovered her mother had colon cancer, she knew it was time to stop working.
“I don’t know if people understand Native families, but the family is the number one thing in your life and being a single mom, my mom was a priority in my life,” Miles explains. “If it wasn’t my mom, it was my son. Losing my father in 1990, and now my mom living with cancer, there was no question as to what I should do. My priority was to get her well.”
Miles had to maneuver her priorities and make sizable sacrifices to accommodate her mother’s needs. Although she received many bookings for potential roles, she turned them all down to be by her mother’s side during the chemo and radiation treatments. While she was there to champion her mother’s optimism, she had no clue how her mom was going to win this fight.
“She started to get better, but her walking ability took longer than anticipated. Then she ended up in an accident and fell, breaking her hip,” Miles says. “The radiation and chemo took a toll on her bones, and because of her age and diabetes, her bones became brittle. From then on, things went downhill.”
Early Life without Debt
Miles was born on April 7, 1960, in Pendleton, Oregon. Although her mother, Armenia, was Cayuse and her father was Nez Perce, she rose as a member of the Umatilla. She learned many traditional skills in her youth, mastering beadwork, pottery and weaving at a young age. She is also a prize-winning traditional dancer.
However, although she grew up with the values of traditional life and understood her tribal sovereignty, her observations and love for reservation life became difficult as she got older.
“Culturally, I was brought up Native American, even though I was brought up in the city,” says Miles, whose mother settled in Seattle in 1962. “But, I’d go home for the summer and spend time with my grandma and grandpa and they would teach us our traditional ways, too.”
Miles’ grandfather was a tribal interpreter who often traveled to Washington, D.C. as a spokesperson for the tribe “In those days, our elders did not speak English. We just spoke our native language. My grandpa would always say, ‘One of these days, I want to see the President actually do something for our people’ and my grandma would say the same thing,” Miles recalls. “But, our family was really never hurting for money because my grandpa raised quarter horses and my dad’s father was the first farmer in Umatilla County to own a combine. Even white farmers would come by to borrow his combine. It’s not like we were hurting for money.”
“My mom would talk the same way. She would say, ‘One day, I want us to be so independent and all be rich.’ I would say to my mom, ‘I’m a Cayuse girl, so we’ll always be broke.’ She’d always laugh because it was a joke. But, I knew I wanted to be rich and famous on my own so I didn’t need to depend on the tribe.”
Miles would soon discover that those who leave their reservation to find a better way of life are barred from their enrollment rights. When her mother grew sick, she was told that if she went back to her reservation, she would get the help she needed. However, her mom chose to remain in Seattle, so medical help was refused, based on tribal by-laws.
“My mom said to me, ‘I might not make it with this cancer. If I don’t make it, I don’t want to go back to Pendleton. Seattle is my home.’ When my mother grew sick, the tribe wasn’t there for my mom. They’re not there for us. I feel the tribe’s number one priority is to keep people on the reservation.”
Miles believes her mother gave up on life because of the massive debt she accumulated. She says people failed to tell them how much treatment and prescriptions would cost.
“Mom paid what she could, but during the last of her treatments, she refused chemo because she couldn’t pay for it,” says Miles, who hopes to build a nonprofit organization that will provide health coverage and other subsidies for tribal members like her mom who decide to leave their reservation.
The Industry Today
Miles says she didn’t decide her acting career, it was decided for her. In 1990, her mother was initially asked to audition for the portrayal of Marilyn Whirlwind, a calm, non-aggressive assistant to Dr. Joel Fleischman’s neurotic behavior, played by Rob Morrow on “Northern Exposure”.
“It was a hot summer and we were on our way to a powwow in Canada. “We were just going to stop by [the audition] and then get up there,” recalls Miles. “My mom didn’t really want to be an actress, but she had a friend who knew the casting lady from “Northern Exposure”. This woman calls my mom and says, ‘Would you like to audition?’ and my mom was like, ‘Sh@t, whatever! Yeah, OK, some woman wants me to audition.’ I’m like, ‘What’s an audition?’ So, my mom agreed to do it.”
“It’s funny because as we were sitting around waiting, the casting director’s assistant came up to me and was like, ‘Is that your hair?’ and ‘Then he reached out for it and my mother stopped him and said, ‘You’re not allowed to touch her hair! Men aren’t supposed to touch a woman’s hair!’ He freaked out and yelled, ‘Oh my god, she’s got beautiful hair!’ then he invited me to audition for the part. My mother looked at me and said, ‘Read the part so we can get the hell out of here!’”
Miles’ subsequent career throughout the 1990s was truly inspiring within the Native American consciousness. Her roles quickly made her the most recognizable Cayuse/Nez Perce Indian woman of all time and earned her a Native American Woman of the Year award in 1993 and America’s Celebrity Indian of the Year in 1995. She is glad to see more Native faces on the television and big screen and is proud that she might have something to do with that.
“Native people today are being cast for different roles other than playing just Native roles. That’s a great thing! I wish I could get out of that,” Miles says. “When people find me, they want me to be that Marilyn character. I hope to see the day when we as Native people get our own TV channel.”
Miles also hopes all Native children will one day have the creative freedom to send their message loud and clear. “Our children are going to change our industry. I’m still struggling, but my hope is for the children to shine. Where we will have our own channel, our own awards shows, we will have our own talk shows with our Native talent on there. Just like black people, yellow people, brown and white. Even Arabic people have their own channel!”
“We are the First People of this nation. We shouldn’t be fighting with each other. The opportunities should be there for us. But, we need to make it happen. There is a dream within all of us that can be reached. That’s why I say our youth will succeed, because they’re still pure in thought and are very open minded about doing things together.”
© 12/1/2008
No comments:
Post a Comment