Bury the Bitterness

Warning. This post is filled with profanity and ugliness. So please disregard if you want to stay in a good head space right now. Come back and read if you feel like reading me gripe.


I learned the hard way not to vent to others. Write it down. Throw it out. Tell God Keep it to yourself

Canada is celebrating 150.  Canada is funny. We can talk about the whole Canada and Canadians defending and denying their treatment of Indigenous people or we can talk about more personal issues.

I am bitter. Bitter about the racist turds in Canada and the US. They are so ugly. I am bitter about White people in general. They are so messed up. I am bitter about growing old. I am bitter about the government sucking arse to big money, the lobby groups and face companies. I am bitter than a man like Trump exists in the world. I am bitter that he is allowed to shit on people and live large. I am bitter that his kids are arseholes. I am bitter that his wife sold her vagina for a piece of gold. I am bitter that Trump gets to fuck people over and is rewarded for it over and over again. I am bitter because of how stupid people are. I am bitter because evil fuck lords seem to winning in the world.

I am bitter because my son is dead and evil selfish people live life with no regard for the world. Why can't there be any way to make them pay? I am bitter because the world is dying. Stupid greedy people are killing the Earth. We all take part in the killing for the all might dollar. I am bitter because I can't say "you stupid fucking white people are the devil". You stupid money chasing arseholes are killing the world.

How come the ugly people don't face consequences? How come its poor people who get the stick up the arse? How come cars keep changing little things on them? They can't use the same lights, mechanical parts and more stuff just ends up in the garbage piles? How come actors and sports players get paid more than a brain doctor or cancer doctor? How  come CEO's of companies only think in quarters? They don't think of lives of workers or the planet, just the earnings of a company after four months?

Why in the fuck do people listen to celebrities? How come leaders are not in the front lines of war? Shouldn't that be the way?

Why do people continue to shit on the Indian? How come even new comers think we get free stuff? Why are Canadians and Americans so fucking stupid when it comes to the Rights of Indians?

Why do I care how people treat us? Why do I always get suckered into believing people are generally good? I mean I want people to be good and live good life. Why can't I be better?

I am angry that good people like my Mom got cancer and died. She didn't deserve it. Yes some people deserve it. Those who are ugly to the core.

I am angry I did wrong things and made ugly choices. I  am angry because I can't change the things I did. I am angry.  I am angry I couldn't be a better Dad, a better son, a better friend, a better husband, a better Indian.

I am bitter that politicians lie. They only think of getting back into office. I am bitter because people don't appreciate what they have.

I am bitter because we are not kind to people running from war, from death, from horror.
I am bitter

I am bitter because I don't live with the bitterness. I hold the door. I will pay for lunch for police and they don't know it was me. I will try to give rides to people who need it. I will try and share a smile to people. I am bitter because I will think of others and go and do something for them and they don't care. I am bitter because its not stuck in me to be bitter. I am bitter because so many of our kids are dying. Dying from addictions and from taking their own lives.

I learned the hard way not to vent to others. Write it down. Throw it out. Tell God Keep it to yourself. 

Rage Against Racism

No doubt, racism deserves to be seen as pure ugly. In Canada we are watching the events going on with Trump's America. Canadians are horrified and basking in their imagined less racist glory.

There are some thoughts on facing racism. Tina Fey says to stay home and eat cake. That is funny. As you know "let them eat cake" is linked to White privilege (although there is some who say it was never said). In any case Tina Fey is a beneficiary of White privilege. It's not her fault. We are born who we are. We should embrace it. The thing about White people is that some are cool with their status in the world, with their privilege. So good for them, they are aware. Yet there are those who are insecure and want more. It is not enough to be way ahead in the starting line of society. They want the others to not even be seen at the starting block. These people are ripe with all sorts of negativity. So negative and so hate filled that they relish in their ignorance and ugliness.

If we could imagine or see them for what they are, I imagine they would be so hideous not even their own Mother's would hold them. That is the racist; ugly and vile. How can they be anything but ugly?
Still people embrace the ugly. They rally around the ugly. They will kill for the ugly.

Like many people I have been keeping up (to a degree) with the bizarre and ugly things happening right now; the election of a White supremacist president, the increase in public racism, the Nazi rise, the embolden of White Nationalist,, the killing of Black people by police, and just the ugly tone happening in America. It is really upsetting. It is stressful and makes you feel helpless. It also makes people angry.

Anger with no outlet is serious. Anger simmers and it can turn to rage. Rage can be action. Rage can grow from our anger. We are angry because of the injustice going on. The unrelenting racism and the ugly acts. Rage is where we don't want to be. Rage can push us to think and do ugly things.

I remember growing up in the Reserve. The town next to us was filled with White racism and privilege. My Dad felt it growing up from the 1930s and his Dad from the 1800s. The treatment at the hands of White people and officials. So one day my Dad was sighting his rifle. I was  a young teen at the time. He says to me, (this is my Dad mind you, my hero) "If there was a war I would go and shoot everyone of those White fuckers in town". I remember that clearly and it's funny as I remember not at all being shocked or anything. (Of course Dad did not go out and shot white fuckers in town.) Sometimes I feel very much the same way.

Don't we all at one time or another?

When We Choose to Die; When to say When?

Its true! You are dying. We all are. So our time is finite. What are we doing with the time?

I met this guy. He is Kurdish. You know what he is doing with his time (besides working)? He is building schools.  He sends money back home so schools can be built. Does he have his name on the schools; like Trump University or The Buhler Building at the University of Winnipeg? No,  the fact is the people in the community don't even know that he is helping build the schools.

One of Four Schools Built so Far.

I see the pride in him when he speaks of the Schools. He hopes to try and build 100 before he is finished. The buildings may seem modest but its not the point. The thing is he is doing something with his life other than existing.

I wonder about legacy and think about many of those I know who have died. What is their legacy. On my parents grave marker its has a saying; Wiinawa Mino Bimadizi - They Lived a Good Life. Now that is a good legacy and a good way to be remembered.  

I watched my Mom and Dad get eaten up by the Cancer.  What a cruel horrible last leg of their life. Mom was diagnosed and went quickly (thankfully). My Dad had started to get Alzheimer's before he got sick. He told me and my brother that he did not want to live if he was going to be a "vegetable". 

The thing about dying is its so finite, the end. I think about death all the time. Not afraid of it. Just thinking about it and when it will come. It will come for us all. I wonder if I will embrace it? Its quite selfish and weird to be contemplating death all the time. There are many fighting with all their heart to live. Its not fair to the sick, the one's living in a hell of a war torn country or those in a country where famine is slowly killing them, or where people are being killed for who they are and where they live. Its selfish to waste life. 

There are babies just trying to live and they are being killed in every community. Still we have those who are living and not caring about life. They abuse the gift of life they have been given. I know many who have cheated death and are slowly killing themselves with abuse. They don't seem to care about the gift of life. When there are those who are struggling to breathe and stay alive. We seem to be so selfish and not grateful for the ability  to live. Is it fair or right?

I am angry at many who are living and wasting life. Abusing their bodies, their own lives. I know this guy who has been through many rough experiences and still has not learned anything about his life. Its his choice of course. I think about the loss of my own Son and feel bad because it should not have happened. Ending his own life. I know its not right to think "why him?" Why us? Why not others? Those who don't give a damn about anything or anyone else? Life is not fair. I for one don't want to live long. I want the ability to leave when I want. But its not up to us is it?

There those who should be embracing death.  Still its all subjective about who should be embracing death. Do you have an age in mind or a situation in mind where you will welcome death?

I think about this. 

The Search by a Young Sister to Find her Brother - Adopted Out.

This is a post shared on Facebook. It is the child (Delanie) of my Cousin Norman. This is her story and her words.

We all remember when he was taken.

Taken without permission from Facebook.

Let's talk 60s scoop.
Some of you probably have heard of the 60s scoop. The other some of you probably haven't and have no clue what the 60s scoop is, but that wouldn't surprise me. Because a lot of the stuff that happened to First Nations people isn't acknowledged or talked about. So for those of you that don't know, let me just briefly explain. The 60s scoop was a thing in Canada where First Nations children were taken from their families and placed into group homes, foster homes and where they would wait to hopefully be adopted. Some to never see their family again, never learn their culture or who they are (were). Leaving the parents/family of these kids who were taken from them broken, hurt, and filled with pain. Welcome inter generational trauma. The pain doesn't go away. It doesn't just stop. Neither does the hurt. everyone is effected. the generations after are still effected. How would I know? Because I live it. I see it. I see the hurt. I see the pain. and I feel the broken. Generation after generation of hurt, pain, and being broken. And so I guess someone has to try break the cycle. Here's my story about my brother Lee Ambrose Hall Bruyere.
In 1976 Norman had a son named Lee Ambrose. When Lee was just 3 years old he was taken from his biological family. And moved into the United States where he was placed into a group home, and waited a year till being adopted into a family.
Lee's family members in Manitoba tried to do everything they could to get him back but they never heard from him again after that. Let me remind you that he was only 3 YEARS OLD! imagine having your baby taken from you and never seeing or hearing from them again, awful isn't it. His family would continue to search and fight to try get him back. But everything they would do ended in failure. Leaving them grieving for Lee. As years passed they would still continue doing everything in their power that they could to try reunite with him.
Fast forward into the 2000s. And this is where my contribute in this search begins. I was young when I first learned about my brother. But when I was 9 or 10 I remember listening to a conversation and stories being shared about him and what happened. Then it hit me, I have a brother out there somewhere. I knew his name and later found out the state he was adopted into which was Pennsylvania. So having 3 sisters and always wanting a brother, when I found out about Lee I told myself I don't care what it takes, one day I will find and have my brother in my life. And
hope that finding him would bring some
healing to the family. So I did what a 10 year old with the internet could do. I searched Facebook, Instagram, twitter and google looking for him having no clue what he looked like or if he even still used his birth name. I remember one time when I was searching I typed in "people in Pennsylvania named lee." Haha ya good luck delanie. After being dedicated to searching for usually a week I would give up on myself. I was 10. Then a month or two would pass and I would find myself thinking of him and start looking again. This went on and on till I was in grade 10. I also was doing this by myself, as in I didn't really let anyone know that I was doing all this trying to find him, until March 2016. But when ever I had the chance to talk about him, I talked about him as if I knew him my whole life. I took lots of pride in having a brother.
On March 17 2016 my oldest sister passed away Lee's full biological sister. Me and my sister were really close. And finding Lee meant a lot to her. so I knew that no matter what, I had to find him. During that time I got to see my very first picture of Lee, of him as a baby. I then talked to Norman and told him that I wanna find him, I was sent to talk to Karen the aunty. We talked about him and she told me what she had done throughout the years of searching and having no luck. She told me that she had a letter that was sent to her and that she would give it to me in hopes that it could help me. The letter was sent from Southern Manitoba First Nations Repatriation Program, written on March 19 2004 (Lee age 28) saying his DOB, name and where he was adopted (Pennsylvania) already knew this. And that's what I was left with to try find my brother in a world with billions of people. I'm gonna be honest in the back of my head there was a thought saying that this is impossible you're wasting your time, but good thing I'm a bull head and don't listen. I didn't give up and continued my search. I phoned the number on the letter and emailed but no answer or response, I then looked for the lady's name that was on the letter, I found her on Facebook and personally messaged her. I was informed that the SMFNRP was no longer a thing. At that moment I felt hopeless. I didn't know what I was gonna do next or if there was anything I could do, but I didn't give up. I went online did a ton of research on the 60s scoop to help me understand a bit more. I was only 15-16 at the time, calling adoption reachers and emailing anyone that I thought might be able to help. But it didn't help me. Sometime last year it was announced that the adoption files from 60s scoop kids will be opened in Manitoba. Melissa helped me fill out the forms to apply to get the records. And she also phoned Manitoba adoption agency to help me get info on how everything works. I remember the day we called, I was frustrated angry and ready to give up. We were told that basically if we apply for them but Lee hasn't opened the files on his side then we can't get them. Which meant probably never finding him. I didn't really know what to think besides like what that's fucken crazy! what if he doesn't even know? What if this what if that. All these thoughts going through my head as I was about to give up after all these years. Melissa just says delanie let's just fill out the forms, send them in and see what happens. Ok I'm less heated again so we get the forms done and send them. This was on April 25 2016. Couple months pass don't hear or get anything back. So at this point I'm thinking well that obviously didn't work. Guess it's back to google searching "people in Pennsylvania named Lee" ha not even kidding. I was desperate to find him. I even sent in an application for that tv show long lost family. Messaging random people who I thought could maybe be him. I remember at school I would spend hours in the computer lab trying to get information, names, numbers, emails of people who I could contact to try and help me. Nothing seemed to work or help. It was very frustrating. But yunno I wasn't just gonna give up. I know what it's like to be given up on. Even though at the time Lee had no clue I was looking for him, at least now he knows I never gave up on him.
May 4 2017 over a year later there's a letter in the mail from Manitoba department of families. I never been so anxious to open a letter before, this letter meant everything. So I open the letter, and there it is my brothers name Lee Ambrose Priar. I can't even explain what it felt like, it was just unbelievable. Norman and other members of the family left it up to me to be the one to contact him. Little overwhelming but I got this far wasn't gonna get scared now. I found his Facebook and tried messaging him, didn't get a response but I wasn't sure if he was getting the messages. So I continued to Google him and see if I can get a number to call or email. I think I phoned like 5 different numbers, some not in service anymore, others no answer. Emailed 3 different emails all said the email isn't valid anymore. So I was on white pages or some site like that and I came across a name that was linked to him. It was his mother. And I called the number, it actually rang, and the craziest thing happened she answered! I hung up so fast. I sat in my vehicle listened to a few songs, did some breathing. And called back. She answers I say to her "hello, I'm the person who called and hung up earlier so very sorry. I'm just really nervous and scared and please just don't hang up on me" ironic.
so she just says "ya it's okay no worries what are you calling for?"
"Are you Lee's mom"
" yes I am "
" um my name is delanie bruyere I am from sagkeeng First Nation and I'm Lee's youngest sibling "
The conversation went from there. She was a very nice lady, open to talking to me, and very kind. At the start of the conversation I could barely talk, too having no problem at all talking to her. So I'm very thankful that everything went so well. The next day I woke up to a friend request on Facebook from my brother! Best friend request I've ever gotten, well besides when I was like 9 and thought I got a friend request from the real Justin Bieber. Besides the point, I personally didn't end up talking to Lee until June 5th that was the first time we talked through inbox. Anyway from their things went good more family got added on his Facebook and chatting with him, good stuff like that.
As of June 28th myself, my sister Dakota, my late sister hollies daughter Carrie, and Norman decided we are going on a road trip to Harrisburg Pennsylvania to meet Lee! as of right now we are about 2 hours away. After driving for 33 hours. And to think that I'm only a couple hours away from meeting my brother for the first time, it's fucking insane! Sorry bout the F bomb but it is fucking insane! Like this day is finally here! I don't know how many times I thought about the day I got to meet my brother, and here it is like 2 good albums away, yup I tell time in songs/albums. Who doesn't? Example my average shower takes like 3 songs unless my playlist is bumping then maybe 5 songs. Ok well after I meet him I will type the ending to my story of my search for my brother. And this isn't even really the end, it's just the beginning.

July 1 2017
Just officially met my brother for the first time.
I'm kinda speechless. It's just unreal. I'm sorry it took so long too find you. Glad I never gave up.

38 years later, search complete.

Love you brother❤️

This is Delanie.

https://www.facebook.com/delanie.bruyere/videos/1342136479133947/

Gas Sniffing Experience: Not Proud

I am not sure when I first tried sniffing gas as a kid. It was something the older kids showed us younger kids.

I remember sitting in the old shed that my Mishoom (Grandfather) built at my Dad's place. I sat there sniffing gas out of the spout of a tin gas can. I remember looking at the nozzle. It had those lines for screwing the cap. In my sniffed up head I saw myself falling down the nozzle into the tank.

The gas sniffing experience is weird. It straight kills brain cells and you see things not there. You also stink. It didn't become a habit the sniffing but I did it enough to remember some of the crazy experiences. There was a song that went along with the sniffing which we talked about. Sometimes we would go sit in the culvert that ran underneath the highway close to our house. The creek used to run through the culvert but the creek has long since dried up. The sounds of the cars passing over of us was a weird sound.

Not sure why I am sharing about these experiences. The notion of sniffing is not pleasant. It is still evident on the streets in Winnipeg. You see people of different ages holding rags to their mouth. The rags are dipped in different solvents. The people walking around in a stupor.

It is funny how your brain works. When we were young in the Reserve we thought the city was where the wild Indians and people were. They would sniff stuff like nail polish remover and we thought that was hard core and you would lose brain cells over that.

Just wanted to share some of the things done when we were kids. We didn't have dope. We had gasoline. We would put it in little cans and sniff it. Sometimes when high we would tip to our faces like we were drinking and the next thing we were wet from gasoline. Dangerous. One of the things I noticed as a result of the sniffing was the spitting. We tended to spit a lot. We didn't sniff it through our nose but rather breathed in the fumes through our mouth.

I saw many different things while all sniffed up. I saw a cartoon mouse dancing away on this big gasoline drum; I saw a big green mosquito on my back about the size of a crow; a battle between clouds in the sky. The headaches that followed were wicked. Not sure why we did what we did.

I remember the last incident I had sniffing. I was with my friend and we were sitting in the bush huffing gasoline. Next thing I know I am in the air looking down at me and my friend. Not sure how long it lasted. I went back into my body and started telling my friend what happened and he said I know I saw you.

It is one of the many regrets I have in my life; along with many mistakes, sniffing is one of them. I didn't do it for very long or that many times. I have and will continue to make mistakes until I die, its what we do. It was long time ago but I still feel bad over it.

We like to revisit our own histories and try and revise them but we can't. We can only affect what we do today and hope to do good tomorrow.

Revenge or Avenge?

Avenge is a verb. To avenge is to punish a wrongdoing with the intent of seeing justice done. Revenge can be used as a noun or a verb. It is more personal, less concerned with justice and more about retaliation by inflicting harm.

"An Ojibwe community was battling with another group of Indians. The battle was not without people getting hurt and sometimes killed. In this one battle the brother of one of the Ojibwe warriors was killed by one man in the other group of Indians. The brother was sad and hurt by what happened to his brother. As it was his intent to avenge the death of his brother, he went into the groups camp and sought to challenge the man who killed his brother. The challenge was accepted. The two warriors started to battle each other. The Ojibwe Warrior had finally got the man down and was getting on top of him. The man then spit in the face of the Ojibwe Warrior. The Ojibwe Warrior stopped, got off of the man and walked out of the community. He did not strike the man who had killed his brother." This is the Ogichidaa.
_________

There is so much ugly happening all over the world. In the Native world we are hurting and we have anger. A young woman is killed and just a couple days later a young man is killed. We are hurting and we are angry.  There is an Inquiry as to what has and is happening to Indigenous Woman in Canada and why are they going missing and being killed.  The Inquiry in its current state is not looking too promising for getting answers. People are sad hurt and angry.

The Governor General of Canada, the person who is suppose to represent the Crown just called the Indigenous people of Canada immigrants. Then he apologized by calling Indigenous property; "Our Indigenous people are not immigrants."  That is so funny. Because of how clueless this guy is.

The list of things indigenous people have endured and are faced with, is long. Just ask any Indian and they will tell you. There are the deeds done against them individually and there are things done broadly across our larger community.

So what do we do with all this hurt?  With the anger building up? In the US  the anger is played out by violence to those who they don't feel fit with their thinking and lives. The amount of racist attacks has just increased and become more visible by the White population. In Canada attacks of racism by Whites have become more visible as well.

That is not the way our people are going. They still don't get into the act of violence and revenge. Regardless of how much they feel it is their right.

So not sure if we can ever see the difference between avenging our ancestors and getting revenge?

Many of the feelings are very personal to us. We are emotionally invested in our families, friends, community and our heritage. So of course there is strong feelings to what happens to us.

I still carry much resentment and anger towards people who I think hurt my Son when he was alive. I used to think of how to get revenge on them. I would cause them so much pain if I should follow through on my thoughts. It didn't happen of course. Not that I didn't have the anger or the wherewithal to go on with it (after all anyone can be mean and inflict hurt). Its a battle in my heart: I want to be kind but yet know I have the ability to be mean. So its a battle.

There are many of us fighting a battle between revenge with those who wronged, and there are those who are avenging what has been done to us. I like those that are taking the anger out of their actions and doing things because it is the right thing to do.

I battle to hold the violence in my being at bay. I know everyone of us is capable of violence. It takes restraint to hold off violence. 

The guilt, the regret of doing violence never leaves us once we have done it. 

Do you know what the Ogichidaa (Ojibwe Warrior) story reminds us of and illustrates? 

Sundancers Be Happy, Be Proud

Well it's the summer and with that come the Thunderbirds, the Ceremonies. The Sundance Ceremony is one of sacrifice.

Pictures taken after Ceremony competed

Pledging Before Sundance Ceremony

Complete Ceremony 

It is quite a thing making a commitment. You make a pledge to sacrifice for others. We dance for life; the good life - Mino Pimatisiwin.

So for all those who make the commitment to the Creator to try and live a good life, I think you should be happy and you should be proud.

I know from  experience life can be anything but kind. We can feel defeated, angry and hurt. Still it is amazing our people will still try to be good, to think of others.

I am so grateful for those who work at sharing their life of following a good path.
The feelings that come with being surrounded by positive thoughts is fantastic. Once the Dance is complete the amount of smiling faces, the hugging and the appreciative gestures to each other makes you wish it would spread all over.

There are those who wish to share their joy on social media and there are those who berate them for speaking about the experience.

I feel bad for those who try and mute the enthusiasm of the Dancer. You see it at many levels. For some arcane reason we are not allowed to share our activities with the Creator. Strange. There can be every form of notification and sharing of main stream belief systems but when it comes to Indigenous Traditions we are to be quiet or hide it? Doesn't make sense. Even some of our Teachers say not to share it?

Lot of shared happiness.

I think a lot of our misguided thoughts regarding the sharing of Ceremony, Traditional Indigenous Ceremony, and it may come from forced norms. The governments made Ceremony of Indigenous people illegal. What you going to do? You hide it. You pretend it doesn't exist. You can't share it without fear of repercussions. There is also the message made popular by media - film industry. We are so backwards that recording ourselves will steal our soul. The popular image in movies where they say we are afraid to have our pictures taken. The message being we are not sophisticated enough to understand a representation - like a picture. Yet Indigenous people have been recording events for ever with many different forms.

I think our people should be proud of their deeds, their accomplishments and share it with the world.

There is so much ugly happening in the world so why can't we share some good?

Share your pride. Share your dreams. Share who you are. Indigenous and great.

We need to love who we are more.

For too long the message has been not a good one. Now people are more open about the good life. I applaud you the strong proud Indigenous.