Out of the Cupboard and into the Classroom: Children and the American Indian Literary ExperienceAt the impressionable age of thirteen, alone and far from my home in North Carolina, while working a summer job in Oklahoma City, I was captured by Indians! Although I hated to admit it, and even denied it, to these people it was easy to see that I suffered from acute loneliness and homesickness. In the tradition of the Ponca American Indian tribe, members of the Conklin family noticed I was in need and invited me to their home for supper. That night I was treated to a feast of Ponca delicacies--steam fry, fry bread, corn soup, hominy, and grape dumplings. The Conklin's generous hospitality developed into a relationship that intensified and persisted over the years, culminating in my being treated as a full-fledged member of their family and continuing to this day. My membership in the Conklin family led to my immersion into Ponca culture and eventual participation in tribal ceremonial dances.My relationship with the Conklin family has primarily been joyous, but part of its intensity has been forged in the fire of pain and sadness. Being part of two families, I face the constant strain of maintaining ties to my "real" family in North Carolina and my "Indian family" in Oklahoma half a continent away. Being part of two families, I have twice the opportunity to experience family joy--celebrating the births of nephews and nieces as well as the accomplishments of family members. Two years ago, for example, Abe Conklin, the family patriarch, was honored by the Smithsonian Institution by being chosen as the Ponca "selector" for its "All Roads Are Good" exhibit of