When I met with the landlord, he had some very troubling questions about our culture based on the earlier conversation I had with his wife.
He said, "I have some questions: First off, what happens when you have to go back to the village?"
I said: "I would not be able to because I would need to pay the rent and that is my priority."
"Well I have rented to Native families before and they have always left me high and dry. When sometimes one of the family members goes back or the entire family goes back, I am left there stuck and I just don't think this is going to be a good fit, but I will talk it over with my wife, but she is a lot less understanding than I am."
The landlord's questioning got more personal, and eventually he rejected the family for no other apparent reason.
That same night, I was so devastated about not getting the place, after all we went through. I just cried. It wasn't until the next morning that I thought ... "Did we just get discriminated against?" Now, if you know me [you know] I am not one to use this word "discriminated" lightly. I tried to rationalize the entire situation over and over; it was just then, I realized that we were discriminated against.
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