Tolerance

From 'The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian' by Sherman Alexie, one of the most beautiful novels I have ever read. Inspired by his own experiences, Sherman Alexie narrates the story of a young Spokane Indian growing up on a reservation in the US, with much wit, humour, and understanding - "the adolescence of one unlucky boy trying to rise above the life everyone expects him to live."  The funny sketches by Ellen Forney add much to the beauty of the novel.
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"My grandmother's greatest gift was tolerance.

Now, in the old days, Indians used to be forgiving of any kind of eccentricity. In fact, weird people were celebrated. Epileptics were often shamans because people just assumed that God gave seizure-visions to the lucky ones.

Gay people were seen as magical, too.

I mean, like in many cultures, men were viewed as warriors and women were viewed as caregivers. But gay people, being both male and female, were seen as both warriors and caregivers. Gay people could do anything. They were like Swiss Army knives!

My grandmother had no use for all the gay bashing and homophobia in the world, especially among other Indians. "Jeez," she said. "Who cares if a man wants to marry another man? All I want to know is who's going to pick up all the dirty socks?"

Of course, ever since white people showed up and brought along their Christianity and their fears of eccentricity, Indians have gradually lost all their tolerance. Indians can be just as judgmental and hateful as any white person.

But not my grandmother. She still hung on to that old-time Indian spirit, you know?"

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