My Name is Legion

So this is it. Not so much a beginning as a re-imagining. I won't address that which has already been written about Scott Kieson. There's nothing more to be said about that. I want to talk about my other incarnations.


The name on my birth certificate is Ben Chosa Jr. I like its brevity; no middle name or even an initial. The "Jr." is misleading as I am actually the third in my family with that name. I kept that name for the first few years of my life. Like so many Native Americans from northern Wisconsin, destiny would soon drag me far from my family, reservation, and culture. Destiny took the form of social policy and christianity. I then became Scott Carl Kieson, the stolen child of Gary and Barbara Kieson, unwilling brother to Cindy and Tammy Kieson. I never really fit in with them. I was a dark, short boy in the land of tall, willowy, blond Germans. I was chosen to be the standard-bearer for the Kiesons who to that point were unable to produce a natural male heir. And while that plan didn't really work out for them, I find myself stuck with this name. I call this name my "government" name, thrust upon me when I was adopted. More on that to come.

I'm fond of the saying, "all things by the will of the Creator." Not that I'm always in agreement with the Creator. But then again, he saw fit to bring me home to my people even if it was 30 years later, addicted, convicted, filled with confusion and anger, but at least metaphorically home if not physically. One of the first things I asked my father for was a name. I wanted a name I could use when I was at ceremonies. I'm not sure the ancestors knew who the hell Scott Kieson was. So my newly re-found father made arrangements with a medicine man who drove from the White Earth reservation to hold a naming ceremony. The medicine man prayed for many days for the Spirits to send a name, but nothing came to him. As he left Minnesota for the long drive to my rez in Lac du Flambeau, a storm began to form behind him and would follow him as he drove East. The storm was all black clouds, thunder, and lightening and would chase the medicine man to the borders of my reservation where it broke up and dissipated. I guess a medicine man's main quality is being observant because he then knew my spirit name: Animikiigiizhig (Thunderbird Sky). A thunderbird sky occurs during a thunderstorm where lightening arcs from cloud to cloud as opposed to striking the ground. The lightning is said to take the form of a thunderbird. It's a good name, a name of power, a name I have my doubts that I can live up to. But if it's all the same to you, I think I'll try.

So this brings me to the last name I have which is the diminutive of Animikiigiizhig. Admittedly, Animikiigiizhig is a big old Ojibwe mouthful, not only for thick white tongues, but for most natives too. Thus, all my friends and loved ones call me Ani. Just like my enemies, and the white people who run these iron houses, know me as Scott Kieson, just like my family knows me as Ben Chosa Jr., just like my ancestors know me as Animikiigiizhig, whatever you choose to call me is your choice, but I hope you would call me Ani.