He helped to serve and then clean up as the director got everything organized for the next activity. The bus for school picked them up there.
He couldn’t do afternoons because that was a busy time at the casino, but wanted to do his part. Mornings worked out perfectly since he wasn’t expected until nine.
He actually enjoyed these mornings, and now that it was warm enough they spent their hour outside. Today he was going to take the six to eight year olds assigned to him on a little nature walk, pointing out some of the local plants and roots their people had used for healing back in the day. Some still did, the more traditional of his people. He was more than happy to share the stories of the people that had been passed down orally to him. The kids he had were eager learners when it came to their culture, especially when he spiced it up with tales of warriors, shamans, and Indian princesses. He laughed to himself. He had to keep up with Disney after all.
The time went quickly. Two of the older boys led the group to the bus loop and he signed out for the morning. Heading to his car, he wasted no time sliding in. He liked to be at the casino so he could change and dress up in his suite before he started his day at nine. He put in a minimum of eight hours, mostly paperwork and contracts that needed to be reviewed. Sometimes he stayed later if he was needed. When they had just opened their doors that had been often. Hell, he still put in a few late nights a week. There was always something.
After this current project for his mother, he planned on keeping stricter hours. He needed to start campaigning. On his reservation, that meant knocking on doors and talking to the people. There would be some debates set up for the two weeks prior to the election. And that was it. Because the property on the reserve was universally owned, they did not post political banners or signs. Talking was what they did. The tribe was still small. Just under six thousand people according to the last census. He knew he could make the rounds if he spent two hours each evening introducing himself and chatting for a bit with each family head. That’s how things were done here.
He also figured he would go to the pier and chat up the fishermen on Saturday when they came in around noon. Many of the older men worked all week, but came in earlier on the weekends. His evening visits would get most of the women. And he would, of course, talk to parents as they dropped off kids in the morning at the center. He was excited about getting underway. His hope was to work locally for five to ten years and then try to gain a seat as a house of representative member for his district. As a tribal council member, he’d be able to work with the surrounding communities in matters of economic and developmental projects. It was all about building your name, your brand, and your platform. And he was ready to start. He’d spent years in college volunteering for the Democratic Party. He’d even interned twice for Senator Silver. It was that work when he was a senior in high school, and in his first year in college that had really developed his passion.
He was confident he could win. People knew him here, and the Sassacus name had clout. Mostly his mother’s doing, but his ancestors before her had been chiefs and widely respected elders for over three hundred years. The name of Sassacus was widely known and respected. In fact, the whole tribe was descended from the great Chief Sassacus who’d rounded up the terrified eastern Pequot tribe after the slaughter they had experienced by the Puritans in the early 1600s. He’d brought them back together and began to rebuild their community. Nearly four hundred years later his mother continued those traditions, and he wanted to do the same.
It was a story every one of them knew. The tribe had split later into two groups when food and animals became scarce. They had faced great hardships over the years. Decimated by disease. Wars with neighboring tribes. Cultural loss with the pressure to convert by missionaries. Over-hunting by Europeans had destroyed their food and clothing resources. And yet they remained. The river and the sea providing them with enough to survive. After his tribe had split, the west and the eastern tribes became distinct from each other. And fighting over land and hunting had been a concern. His people had crossed the river, claiming this spot, along the Mystic, and it became known as Lantern Hill. And it was because of that move to save themselves then, that they had lost the rights and claim to the western bank of the river. The Western Pequot that owned and ran Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods owned that land. They had been recognized over a century ago by the government. Their population had been larger, too. And that had helped their claim.