On Thanksgiving Day my family ditched the traditional sweet potato casserole and red jello and met up at the National Native American Museum. My daughters and their cousin stared up at the cool ceiling in the main hall and spun around until they couldn't walk. Can you see my family waving to me from the fourth floor?

On the second floor was a library with a trove of resources. My sister-in-law was able to find photos of her ancestors who really looked like her family. My kids enjoyed playing the computer games in the library with the fantastic view of the Capital. It would be a great place to do some research.

My youngest and I tried our hand at "weaving" little bracelets.

Before I went into the museum, I would have told you that I could name quite a few Indian Tribes. After spending a few hours in the collections, I would now tell you I only knew a very few tribes. I also can't help feeling a little sickened at the oppression wrought by my ancestors on these people. I'm so glad they are such proud survivors. They have so much beauty and wisdom to share.

Did you know that Native Americans, the folks that were here first, weren't even allowed to practice their own religion until 1934 - banned by the people who came here for religious freedom? I guess that "freedom of religion" was the freedom to worship the way the party in power worships. I guess we're a couple steps better than that now, but some days I don't think we've made much progress.