Procreating with someone other than a Skin was never really an option for me.

Having said that, it’s very difficult to find a suitable Skin mate.

See, my mom was lovingly prejudiced about me and my siblings’ mates. Now, she wasn’t “prejudiced” in that she hated anyone or she made inappropriate gestures to mock other races. Never that! Instead, she was prejudiced in that no one, of any ethnicity, was good enough for her kids. However, she was openly very suspicious of non-Skins. Therefore, my family’s mantra was, “date who you want, but when it’s time for the pitter-patter of little feet, do the right thing.” And in my family, “the right thing” meant having bushy-haired babies with a Skin.

Oh yeah, to my mom, not even all tribes were created equal for baby-making purposes. Like I said, “lovingly prejudiced.”

So, to the women in my family, “the right thing” meant that I was going to marry a Skin. It was a protocol thing; since these wonderful Skin women – my sisters and mom – sacrificed so much commod meatball stew and fruit cocktail to raise me they figured I should reciprocate by being with someone who looks like them. Still, growing up in a family with a single-mother, two (very strong and belligerent) older sisters and umpteen girl cousins, I would be lying if I pretended there wasn’t any element of physical intimidation involved. I feared for my life and safety, therefore the women in my family dictated a decent part of my dating/mating habits.

I was caught between the proverbial rock and hard place. Although there were only 16 Skins girls in the whole USA, I had to find one that was 1) hopefully attractive, and 2) matched my (few) morals and ideals. And music tastes. Consequently, I’ve been forced to do some ridiculously shameful/shameless things to ensure that I had a decent pool of Skin women with whom to socialize. I mean, Lord knows that it’s sometimes hard enough to find an actual, real life Skin chick in some of the cities I’ve lived in. What lengths will a man, under extreme pressure from his family, go to find a snag, mate, baby’s mother, girlfriend and wife (in that order)? The answer: A lot.

THE WEB

Plenty of my Skin friends have hooked up with their mates via the Web. Yet, Internet romances were a pretty big disappointment for me.

For example, the longest I maintained an Internet romance was six months . We had to cut it off when I discovered that she was really 53 (or was she?). She sent me pictures of her granddaughter and told me it was her. I initially thought that this was very odd and maybe slightly gross, but then my opinion changed and I thought that it was strangely hot. Keep in mind, this was before facebook and all the other social dating sites [http://www.myrezspace.org/] – in my days of Internet romance, pictures were pixilated, deceptive and evil. Even though I wasn’t always the pickiest lad as a youngster, I can honestly say that the low quality pictures were sometimes to blame for my questionable choices. Honestly. For real.

In any event, it’s safe to say that I completely understand Kip’s frustration at Lafawnduh for not sending him a full body shot.

POW-WOWS

Another (supposed) forum for meeting young Skin women was pow-wows. I’ve met a few girls at pow-wows; usually we’d be forced to unceremoniously break up when we learned that we were related (via one of my frisky uncles who migrated up to Sarcee and started a whole new tribe – literally. (Blackfeet men and Cree women. Sigh). From an early age, my friends and I were taught to look for our prospective mates at pow-wows. We walked endlessly – marathon-style – around the outer perimeter of the pow-wow arbor or stadium, “wookin pa nub” by the hand games. Or by the homemade lemonade stand. Or by the hippie/Czechoslovakian vendor’s stand, who ended up making more money selling “traditional” items than all the Skin vendors combined. Must be the patchouli.

I remember traveling millions of miles to attend pow-wows for the goal of meeting one “possible” prospect: A young Skin lady who had the attributes I was looking for at the time. The vast majority of the time those attributes looked like this: 1) a decent hand in the kitchen (baking is a bonus); 2) a DVD/VHS combo player; and 3) a car with decent gas mileage that had cruise control. I didn’t ask for much. Still, it seemed like my humble requests never came to fruition. And I’d get frustrated.

Just then my mom’s voice played in my mind: “Eugenics, young lad. Your bushy-haired children will one day appreciate your sacrifice. Just as soon as they get past the pain of the odd “ethnic” names you will inevitably give them.”

Touché.

COLLEGES

I’ve always been a very observant person. For example, when I was at Haskell – due to my always-thorough inspection of the various female students’ lips – I could tell which particular young lady gave my lovestruck friends their Haskell Love Marks, a.k.a. “hickeys.” A lot of my friends thought that – along with SAT/ACT scores and a solid GPA – hickeys were one of the admission requirements at Haskell. And so my friends – diligent students they were – wanted to guarantee their admission.

A lot of my friends are Haskell babies; a whole bunch more of my friends have Haskell babies. All of them are beautiful kids, some of them named after the dorms where they were conceived: “Lil’ Osceola, come here now!” or “Winona, I thought I told you to brush your teeth!” or “Sequoyah, pick up your feet when you walk!” I mean, I guess it’s setting the kid up with pretty high expectations; name them after a dorm at an institute of higher education and those kids better be doctors!

The naming thing makes you wonder why there aren’t more Skin kids named after prominent pow-wows, since pow-wows – like Haskell dorms – are a major contributor to the Skin repopulating process. “Isn’t baby Julyamsh so cute?” or, “I’m gonna take lil’ United Tribes to the pediatrician today,” or “Crow Fair, come over here right now!”

Ok. I guess I see why that wouldn’t work.

But I digress.

Anyway, I won’t single out any school – it’s just easier to pick on schools I attended. The truth is that most schools – Skin and non – have a pretty good reproduction track record. I had a great time and met many incredible friends at Haskell. I feel kinda left out though – I never really had a snag/mate/baby’s mother/girlfriend/wife while I was there. Maybe I needed to be more committed to the “way of the hickey” – y’know, spoons in freezers and turtlenecks.

It was slightly different at non-Skin colleges. At “mainstream” colleges, the Skin men took inventory of the female Skin population immediately – instantly deciding whether she carried good genes or not. I mean, at these non-Skin schools 99.9 percent of the population was non-Skin, so you had to be aggressive and quick! Every female Skin was fair game and it was every Skin man for himself – we never knew if we were going to run into another female Skin again.

So we had to sniff around every one – make sure that she wasn’t The One.

Ah, the sweet smell of desperation; always sexy in a man.

My acts of romantic madness remind me of that song by Meatloaf, “I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That).” What exactly was the “that” that he would not do? He’s probably like me – shameless, willing to encounter pretty much any indignity or embarrassment. Sigh.

Anyway, I’ve heard many amazing stories and feats done in the name of Skin love. For example, a close friend told me about paddling a canoe (seriously) many miles to find his bride on a neighboring island. Another told me how he opted to move during relocation, got a stable job in the city, but couldn’t forget his childhood love at home, so he hitchhiked back and married her. Another spoke about staying pen pals with a friend from boarding schools for over 15 years until they had the opportunity to meet again. They later got married and had umpteen kids.

Lots of questions.

Is having children with a Skin important to you (or your family)? What if there is a lack of suitable Skin options? Does focusing on kids make Skins unromantic? Are Skins still romantic? Are there still stories of Skin romance? Do any of you have interesting, shocking, or beautiful stories about how you found your love?

What do you Skins think?

Gyasi “Fancy Skin” Ross is a member of the Amskapipikuni (Blackfeet Nation) and his family also comes from the Suquamish Tribe. His Pikuni (Blackfoot) name is “Oonikoomsika.” He is co-founder of Native Speaks LLC, a progressive company owned by young Native professionals which provides consultation and instruction for professionals and companies. Gyasi is currently booking dates for his newest presentation, “Mother Lovers: Poetic (and Musical) Justice.” E-mail him at gyasi.ross@gmail.com.