The Walk Of Life

The other day, well it was yesterday, I went for lunch with my 83 year old brother-in-law and my sister-in-law. We went to a local food place named The Nook Dinner in the Winnipeg's West End. My brother has eye issues and had an appointment as follow up to surgery. As I waited on the street, my sister-in-law told me about a thrift shop down the street, I decided to have a quick look see while I waited for my bro-in-law. As I got to the shop, a commotion was going on between a woman, (who had on a smock, so I recognized her as a worker for the thrift shop) and a young man who had a bike. The two were doing a tug-a-war with a backpack. The boy and the woman were really getting at it. I walked up because I am a nosey bugger and got into the middle of it. I pulled on the bike but not hard and the woman was really letting him have it with her words. Then the young man pulled up his shirt to show his machete. The woman said "you fucking little asshole" as she continued to pull on the backpack. I held on to the bike and told him "don't do that" and he let his shirt fall to hide the machete. She pulled more on the pack and clothes fell on the ground and he let go and again he pulled up his shirt to show the machete, I told him again, "don't do that." The woman took what she had and went back into the store. I let his bike go and the young man picked up the one t-shirt on the ground. I found it very interesting the whole event. I don't know why the woman would take such a risk and why would the young man show his machete. It went from a shop lifting at a second hand store to a much more serious situation. I went into the store just to look around and she was calling the cops. I could hear her talking about the young man and then she said "he was Aboriginal." I saw the young man and I thought he was a young white man, maybe 17 or older, I don't know. It got me thinking, "well isn't this weird, if the young man was doing something good, he would be looked as white, but because he is being a menace, he is seen as Indigenous." Anyways... 

About three weeks ago I went with Suz, who is my wife, and of course my moral compass, to the drug store, Shoppers near our place. As we got there, at the exit doorway a large man was laying down blocking the door, he was in between the door. A few people were around him, I went to look and could hear people saying "he is breathing." So we went in for the prescription of drugs. We were about four minutes to five minutes in the drug store, not a long time. The pharmacist was called over the speaker system. She went out and we went out as well. We went through the entrance doors. I again went to look at the gentleman and this time a man was trying to move him. There was someone saying "he's not breathing." So we moved the man over onto his back as he was laying mostly on his side to the door. The man on the ground was quite large. So I had to grab his belt to help move him away from the door, so CPR could be started on him. As I moved him, it was now clear the man had wet himself, his face was discolored, more purple than pink or light tan. A woman standing there said, "He peed himself he's dead." A week or so later my wife showed me an obituary and asked if I recognized the person. I said, "no." It was the gentleman who died at the drug store. I found it interesting as this was not the first time a person just died in front of us. It was about 10 years ago when I was standing in line at a McDonalds and an older gentleman just fell to the ground as he was about to get a re-fill of coffee. He had died right there. Later on in the news his son was trying to get Public Access Defibrillations into more businesses. 

Jon Mia 

0Stella 

My sister took the trip from Manitoba to Alberta for the Pope Francis visit to Canada. Me I was in Alberta the weekend before to visit my brother and cousin. We did do a day trip to the mountains at Jasper Park. We had a beautiful visit. My cousin Barry made a Smudge Bowl out of rock and my Sister-in-law Val made us a great dinner and gifted us as well. With the mountain trip, we saw Mountain Goats, Black Bear, Elk and a Grizzly Bear, plus we went up the mountain in a gondola. I picked some small quartz pebbles on the mountain. Life is great like that. I don't think I had been out to visit family in many years. We had our baby with us, who is nine. She was a good travel buddy, no drama or complaints, just chill like a cool cucumber in a fridge filled with pickles. I posted on social media about my visit and how we were treated really fine, just like we were the Chief or something. I didn't get no Headdress like the Pope but my greetings were much better, they were the real deal, the love is real.  Hugging was not part of our experience growing up (thank you your Holiness and the Residential School gang for that) but we are doing it now. We are showing each other the love which was not part of the family thing and you know why? Because your agents of destruction beat that shit right out of every single Indian going into your "school." Okay, back to the trip. On our way to Alberta we stopped for gas in a little town. At the town gas station, which was small, really small the gentleman came out to gas our car. There was a woman on a bike there. So I asked her what she was doing. She was traveling from Victoria or Vancouver to Hamilton. I asked her why she stopped at this little town as it was not on the highway. She said she needed to "ice down her knee as she hurt it." Turns out she is a musician doing shows along the way. She was going to be in Regina for a few days. I gave her our number to visit us when she made it Winnipeg. Her name is Liz Pomeroy (0Stella). We talked but she was unable to visit as she had a busy time and had was traveling to Montreal. 

Smudge Bowls

 The other day I was speaking to my Aunt, my Mom's sister and she was talking about how the community cemetery had very tall grass. She said it was sad to see the cemetery not being tended to. My Aunt is now the oldest living sister on my Mom's side. I think she's about 86. She said of the grave site, "those people mattered." We should all think of people that they matter. 

The television production Reservation Dogs has made some good news. The young Native cast (I say Native, but they could be called Indians, Native American, First Nations, Indigenous and Rez kids) were doing Talk Show tv appearances with the Big Dogs; Good Morning America, Jimmy Fallon (can't stand that Jay Leno clone). The young actors having fun and it is great to see. There is this one young female actor, and she is "real savage" just like my niece. The show hits all the Indian buttons: Bad medicine will come back on you, Being a Warrior, the Indian who can beat up lots of people, the owl, the car, the rugged girls, old man driving on road with lawn tractor and all sorts of little references to Indian thinking. I really enjoyed the Dallas Goldtooth scene with him saying "Fuck, I really hated that guy," about George Custer, notorious racist 7th Calvary Colonel, who was martyred at the Battle of Big Horn by the Indians.

Hey! I know it's nothing much but it's about lots of stuff. It's the walk of life. So take a step and tell someone "hey don't do that" or just walk on by, either way it's all good. 

 

Songs Which Turned Me Into My Dad

 As a young kid I remember hearing Eve of Destruction song by Barry McGuire. The song had a great sound with a raspy harsh voice and cool rhymes.  There was no way to really appreciate the gravity of the situation in the world and the song's strong message. I listen to it today and I feel it still resonates in our political climate. Growing up I was aware of politics. My Dad was involved in local politics. He was a Band Councilor in our Reserve and he was also a Vice-president in the Manitoba Indian Brotherhood under the late Dave Courchene. My Dad was a staunch advocate of Indian Rights and Treaty Rights. My Dad was also anti-British, and despised their rule of the world. Today there are many who fall into this point of view but have wrapped those feelings in a new name and called it de-colonization. As a kid hearing the voice of my Dad and his view of government control has not been lost on deaf ears. I have become my Dad in many ways. Funny how listening to a song can take you to a place in your thoughts of childhood, the formation of your own attitudes and values. I realize I am my Dad. I have the same shuffle as I walk around the house in slippers. There is the scrapping sound going on when I walk; shhhhttt, shhhttt. I can hear my wife saying "lift up your feet." I tease a lot but I don't feel I have my Dad's wit. He could be real cheeky without being cruel and many times folks did not realize what went on. I like to think I have a bit of my Dad's intellect. He was an intelligent man, a man who was also knowledgeable in practical matters. 

When I was younger I vowed never to become like my Dad. I wouldn't be angry, I wouldn't be a slave to the drink. I wouldn't let other's use me. I wouldn't be a jealous raging lunatic. I guess I had some issues with my Dad. I did go into the drink and it was ugly. I didn't drink long, I stopped when I was 20 years old. I did pick up my Dad's ways of being generous to a fault. I also had loyalty to folks who had no loyalty to me. I went willingly into being used by others, who had no thought of my well being. I endured abusive relationships with bullies. I was loyal and befriended bullies. Their actions towards me affected me. I made excuses for their behavior and rationalized it. I turned the pain of being bullied into anger at those who loved me. It is quite funny what we accept in relationships. We will live with people, maintain friendships with people, and accept abuse directed at us because we care for them deeply. 

With the pain of life there is also the joy which comes along as well. There are songs which remind of us those times. The song can really take you places. The song can provide a snap-shot of the political climate, the good in society and the bad. The song can provide a voice to your thoughts and feelings. The song can open your eyes to a new point of view. The song can be profound and can be whimsical. The song is important. I can still see my Dad enjoying the big wooden cabinet record player. I hear a Hank Williams wanting you to see the light; Charlie Pride kissing an angle good morning; while Charlie Rich asking if you saw the most beautiful girl in the world. I see my Dad reading everything he could on the news about Indian people. So I did get my love of the song from my Dad and from my Mom. Although it was my Dad's choice of music we listened to as kids. My Mom had other tastes as she like Cat Stevens' Morning Has Broken and Mungo Jerry's In The Summer Time. 

I still enjoy the songs. Today I tend to listen to the words and message along with the melody. I like how songs can encapsulate events, social interactions and society. There are two songs I believe tell us the world of men and the world of Women.  Runaround Sue and The Wanderer sung by Dion, just tells us exactly the relationship, the standings of Men and Women in society. Can you think of a song or songs which capture a subject, event, time, or a statement? There are so many. Like my Dad I enjoy the song, but I also experience the message. Stevie Wonder's Big Brother warned us years ago about the system which Edward Snowden exposed. So go enjoy the messages while listening to the song and think about Iris DeMent says about what happens after: Let The Mystery Be. 

Just A Person Standing In Front Of Family

 "I come to you from a good place in my Heart." The other day I went for dinner to celebrate the 75th birthday of my sister-in-law. Family came from different parts of Canada to visit as well. The dinner was very nice. For me an impressive part of the dinner was not that she made it 75 (she is quite healthy and no doubt be healthy for some time to come), but it was the visiting; sharing smiles, sharing laughs and hugs. They are a huggie bunch my in-law family. I always tell my wife it was the best thing for me to become part of her family, they are some of the bestest nicest people I have ever met, and I have met loads of folks. 

It never ceases to touch my heart and amaze me when someone can stand up and say good things to their family member. This was alien to my family. Not saying my family was not good or nice, just saying there was no outward expression of love. My family did love us, no doubt. Their way of showing love was feeding you, housing you, clothing you, protecting you and doing activities with you. They just never voiced it. Of course hugs, kisses were there for the babies but not for the bigger kids. I know it was the experiences of being taken away from family and growing up in an institution of the Residential School. It is funny because a place that preaches love, kindness, charity had broken those ideals from the children they were in charge of. Those same children grew up not knowing the hug, the praise, the love they were suppose to have from their parents. Of course they are going to be a product of their environment. So the good things a family member says about another family member is heard mainly at the funeral service of the person.  And usually it is only one or two voices which are chosen to speak at the funeral. I wonder if those life-less-shells can hear the good words being said about and to them?  

At the dinner my nephew got up and spoke to the family. He spoke of family and he spoke of, and to his mother. It was so heartfelt without being mushy or over the top. His older brother got up and spoke as well. It was so uplifting to hear the feelings they shared publicly. I often think about this Elder who said to me: "The hardest thing is to pick up a Pipe in front of your family." I know now, what the Elder was telling me and there is a lot to unpack there. My nephews got up and spoke with open hearts. They shared their wisdom, their beliefs, their feelings, their love in the moment. Usually those moments of public sharing is left to the "experts." We tend to look at strangers publicly speaking as the experts, the sincere ones. Why do we do this, accept words from the stranger rather than the known one, our own? The old "can't be a prophet in your hometown" axiom, I guess.

There are some traditions we should break. One of them is not being able to say good things from our heart to our family members. We shouldn't have to wait for them to be a lifeless corpse. Still even doing that is hard for many of us. I am sure there are many families who can sit together praise each other openly, pray aloud in front of each other, but for some this is alien. That is the weird part, the Traditional way of life, the Spiritual practices were not in secret. Well not until it became against the law and for the forced Christian conversion. This is where things got weird. You see, in the Sweat Lodge Ceremony and many other Ceremonies, words are shared openly. This means your heart, whether it is broken, hurting is shared with everyone. Your life is in the open. Unlike the confines of a Church Confessional  booth, where your heart sharing is in secret. Now that is wild eh? With the resurgence of Traditional Spiritual practices taking place in Indian country, there are more and more breaking the norms of secrecy. So what you see is more individuals willing to stand in front of family members, in front of community to share and open their heart. For many openly speaking in front of family and sharing their heart is normal but for many it is a new experience. It is not due to them not having an open heart but due to the normalization of being shut down. We are voicing our open hearts and our children will hear it. 

Shooting the Poop with You

 Picked up my wife from her work and we visited as we drove. We spoke about the downtown Hudson Bay store being taken over the Indians. We both acknowledged the targeted visceral anger and hatred to Indians in social media. The news story sparked a feeding frenzy of racist sharks; their attacks were fast and vicious. Just a normal day as we laughed a bit about people. Suz (my wife) borrowed twenty bucks off her friend at work. The friend started to tell her about her night before. She and her spouse went for supper (dinner for those who don't know) at Boston Pizza. After their dinner, she stopped to play a few slots (gambling slot machines which are abundant in Winnipeg licensed establishments). As she was playing an old white woman (who said she had worked in the WHRA for forty years-Winnipeg Regional Health Authority) started chatting her up. The old white lady says to her, "Child Tax?" Child Tax is a benefit provided by the Canadian government to families and sent out monthly. Anyways...the friend told the old white lady, "I work in government as well." The old lady goes on to say, "I didn't mean anything by it," (the assumption she was spending the tax child benefit.) Of course she, the old white lady didn't, it is normal mindset for many not to acknowledge their bigotry. I am being sarcastic, just in case the "of course she didn't" came off as I believed that she sincerely didn't mean anything by it. Me and my wife said, "could be she was using Child Tax at the slots, but still." 

People are so funny with their everyday beliefs which can only be founded in stereotypes, racism and privilege. My wife and me ( I know I should have said I instead of me, but I'm Ojibwe me) laughed hard at her friend's story. It reminded us of "are you Peggy?" Are you Peggy story is the time a Roman Catholic priest went up to my wife and son on a public street in downtown Winnipeg.  My son who is a brown Indian man, was meeting his Mom to give her money. My son had a wad of cash in his hand as the "Father" asked if he was Peggy. The Priest was actually asking if my son was begging. Such a benevolent and charitable man that Father. 

A cousin of mine died yesterday. He was getting sick for awhile now. Blew out his liver from the drink. I was just thinking about how much fun he was. I was glad to get to know him pretty good through working together. In the Reserve you know lot of people and most of your relatives, but in some cases you don't get to know them really intimately. We shared some good times. He was of course closer to others and I imagine they have some great stories about him. This cousin, Bunny (sounds like Bun-eh) was telling me a story about my brother Pancho (sounds like Pon-cho) when they were younger. Bunny was having fun with the same woman my brother was with. My brother was kind of a tough guy. My cousin said he phoned the woman (she was already married to Sonny) he was fooling around with. When the phone was answered, it was a familiar voice;  "Hello" my brother Pancho said. My cousin Bunny didn't say anything, he just listened, as quickly as the hello went unanswered, came "Who the fuck is this" asked Pancho in a mean voice.  Bunny laughing away as he said, "I hanged up with a very quiet click."  We had a good laugh over this. My cousin was a slickster. 

Was at Surplus Direct today to get some runners (sneakers) for my grandson. The checkout line was long. Surplus Direct is one of those little shops which sells discounted "seconds" from big stores like Costco. So as I was in line a couple of young Neechie girls came in. The one girl leaves her bag at the front as there is a sign advising to do so. They walked around the little store. You could hear the other girl say to her, "Good, I never even knew this was here." They looked around, got the bag from the check out and left. I was a ways from the check out but I am pretty sure one the women at the checkout said to her co-worker, "Bet they are up to no good." I looked and no one in the line noticed or batted an eye over the comments. I was thinking, I heard it, I am going to tell them off. By the time I got to the till the moment had gone, I just kept it to myself. I regret it, no matter that the moment had gone. It did validate my thinking that this must be such a common thing so no one even notices. It is racism. We are so conditioned to it, it doesn't phase the public anymore. But I imagine, "she didn't mean anything by it." Bless her little white heart. 

A couple of weeks ago, I went to visit my cousins Stephanie and Charolette; they live in Selkirk Manitoba. I really enjoyed the visit because no one is really visiting right now (you know the old COVID thing and the fact we are old lazy folks). As we get older we have difficulty; difficulty in making new friends. Heck, it's hard enough keeping in touch with old friends, family, never mind fostering new relationships. I want to make friends with Muslims, Ukrainians, Russians, Black people and other Neechies but how do you go about it. I had this idea before about setting up time to sit in a coffee house and advertise; "Hey want to meet an Indian, well just come down to X-Cues and sit with one, chat and ask what you wish." I thought it would be a good idea. 

Speaking of Child Tax Benefit, my Wife sent me to Wally-mart to get some Ritz crackers for our girl's school day. It was kind of late in the evening. There was an Indian Woman with two young girls with her. So I walked up to her and said "Anishinaabem na?" She said "Eh ha." So I asked her if she wanted a ride home, no charge. She said okay. So we loaded her stuff in the car and took her home. I came back to Wally-mart and was walking in when this Indian guy waved me over. He said "Are you a taxi, I saw you giving a ride to the Woman." I told him "No, I just give rides to Neechies, can't really trust the cabs." The taxi industry in Winnipeg has had some issues with Indian fares; some sexual harassment of Women. So he asked me for a ride. So I sent him to my car to load his stuff and I ran for the Ritz. I asked him where he wanted to go, so he got me to take him downtown Winnipeg. We got to the apartment and I opened the trunk and  he said "No, that's my stuff. I'm just dropping off money for my aunty, paying her back." So I says "Oh okay." While he went visiting his Aunty I waited in the car. He came back about 10 or 15 minutes later and I asked him where he lived, I ended up taking him to south Winnipeg, which was a good drive. It was closer to where we left Walmart in the first place. I went home  and the wife was sitting around with her phone and said, "Three hours? I was worried and you didn't phone?" I had left my phone at home because it was only a ten minute trip to Wally-mart. But the point is the guy pulled a good one on me, he pulled an "Indian."  I could laugh about with my wife because she was upset at the time.

Anyways you take care, just wanted to shoot the shit with you today.  

G'waabaamin sa.

Uncertain about the Uncertainty

 "...How would our Ancestors (Anishinaabek) have responded to these times? They would be calm and approach things with gentleness and confidence. They would say we are not alone and we have never been alone, the Ancestors are here with us to take us forward. They would say, why are you afraid? Do you not believe? Did you really think you were in control and can overpower nature? These are natural consequences that we have helped create. Nature is only returning the poisons we have put into her. The abuse we have inflicted on her. It is a time of reckoning now..."  Elder Dave Courchene Jr. Turtle Lodge 

There is so much uncertainty in our lives: massive forest fires; flash flooding; will Cancer get me; can we earn money to feed and house ourselves; trying to stay alive and free from sickness; hoping to not be shot  by a cop; hoping not to be shot while going to school; hoping not to be shot at a movie, not to be shot at a nightclub; having a spouse with homicidal leanings; worrying about being on a flight with a pilot who decides to fly into a mountain; getting some type of sexual transmitted disease; not having a crazy neighbor who measures lawn height; worried about a pack of dogs eating us; the possibility of swallowing a fly that just came out of outhouse; walking in public with toilet paper hanging out the back of our pants or stuck to our shoe, getting hemorrhoids. The uncertainties we face our numerous. So how in the heck do we cope with the feelings which come from uncertainty? It is worrisome to many that is for sure. We have the "could have been me" thoughts when a bad situation occurs somewhere. It could have been me getting bit in the neck by the white tiger named Mantacore and then carried away like a squeaky toy.  Instead it was Roy, who was bit in the neck and by the grace of all that is holy, was not me. 

There's an old Native proverb which goes like this: "Only the Squirrel eats nuts thrown on the ground, while the Hawk doesn't eat nuts." It reminds of the fact a garden snake is non-venomous but people will bring out their rakes and hoes to cut the snake to pieces when they see one. Hank Williams Jr fell down a rock cliff and damaged his face. George Strait 13 year old daughter died in a car accident and Willie Nelson's son hanged himself. The uncertainty of life can be felt by anyone. I think about Bob Gainey, the manager of the Montreal Canadiens hockey team. His daughter was swept of the deck of a Tall Ship in a storm and never found. The common house spider is actually good for your home but you will kill it on sight. Maybe you are uncertain of the type of spider, and uncertain about its bite. The real bite which is an uncertainty is the bite, well really a sting, of a Bee. The Bee of all things which can bring life to an end by ceasing to be, because it is a keystone species. What a tippy topple way for life to be. Can we even plan for the uncertainties in life? 

Uncertainty is our world no doubt. Which uncertainty has you wondering? I fell for a sales pitch, well almost fell for it.  On Facebook there was this post from a City Councilor which showed him getting a free emergency kit. All you had to do was register for it. Anyways the company called the house and set up a date and time to bring over the kit. Turns out there was a presentation you had to listen lasted 2 hours and was a smoke fire detector sales. The presentation was filled with numbers, videos of devastation with home fires. The pitch is really effective. You are left feeling uncertain, feeling afraid. The last sales pitch is "how much is a life worth?"  The smoke detector package is about $4000.00. The thing about uncertainty is it can be pricey. I could not afford the $4000 for the 7 detectors.  I had our house vent system vacuumed a while back and the guy asked me if I wanted to spray the vents with some kind of chemical. I said "no thank you" and he said "well it's your family." I had read the vent vacuum and chemical were not really proven to help air quality in the home. So not sure if I will have vents done again. When marketers call the house and do the sales pitch for vacuuming vents, I just tell them I had it done a month ago. 

I know I will fall prey to uncertainties of life, but for now I am just going to try focus on having enough gas in the car, some water bottles, a fire extinguisher, a charged up cell phone and dog food. It's all we can do in this time of uncertainty; war, climate change, extremism, and social media. I think Dave Courchene Jr said it very well, "to approach things with gentleness and confidence." If Dave Courchene Jr was not a Traditional Teacher and Elder, you would think he was a practitioner of Taoism; Nothing lasts forever. Everything comes and goes. What goes up, must come down. Go with the flow. "The basic principle of Taoism is that animals, plants, and humans should live in balance with the world around them."  This is also the tenants of Indigenous way of life. It is wonderous how people with a strong belief system can meet uncertainties without the worry. 

Will Smith Smite the Rock

 Will Smith walked on a live television show and slapped Chris Rock in the face. Chris Rock made a joke about Jada Pinkett Smith's bald head. The next thing was Chris Rock told the crowd that Smith smacked him and then Will Smith swears at Rock to keep his wife's name out of his mouth. 

Lot of discussion going on about the integrity of Smith to protect his wife. Smith won an Oscar award later on and with his speech talked about having to protect family from all the attacks they are getting. No word from Chris Rock on what his thoughts were on being slapped for a relatively lame or tame joke. 

I don't condemn Smith for slapping Chris Rock. Heck sometimes a slap has to happen. I do commend Rock for keeping a cool demeanor. If you want to see cool in action, just watch Rock after being assaulted, humiliated on international live television. I do condemn Smith for trying to rationalize his actions when he was presented an Oscar. How he tried to tie it to the protective role he played in the movie about the tennis stars, the Williams sisters. How he tried to play victim and portray Rock as the villain. That was quite disgusting. 

Smith demonstrated a person not willing to accept responsibility. The world saw it. He walked a number of steps and struck a man who's career is made up of making jokes about people. Smith then walked back to his seat and all the while, he did in a swagger. He sat down and started swearing with real anger in his voice at Rock. There is no video of his wife's face when all this is going on, so we don't know if she is condoning his reaction or not. 

The thing I wonder is (to quote John Prine), do we talk about it or not talk about it? I mean Jada has made it public about her hair loss. So now is the thing, does Jada want her situation to be quiet and ignored of does she embrace it and be treated normally? It might be bad taste and even disgusting to make jokes about something which someone is experiencing, but what should the reaction be to the joke? It seems weird that Jada can bring attention to her situation but expect no reaction, no talk about it?  So do we pretend it doesn't exist, the hair loss? Do we dance around the subject or do we be open about it, speak of it and perhaps even joke about it? 

As for Chris Rock, I don't know whether or not he knew about the hair loss thing or he has it out for the Smiths. In the past he has had them on his radar and poke fun at them. So maybe there is something more going on between the Smiths and the Rocks? 

I tell you about Neechies, the slap is going to happen. You tease too much or at the wrong time a slap is expected. At the same time jokes are going to happen. People are made fun for their "situations, their issues" all the time. Like this friend of ours in the community was crippled in a car accident. He lost the use of his legs and was wheelchair bound. He still went on to host people and to party at his home. His friends would say "are you going to go over to cripple creek tonight?" For the fact the crippled friend would sometimes have his piss-bag leak all over the floor when he was drinking. 

Send In The White Looking Indians First

Me & Suz as youngsters

For all of my life I have resented the fact I look like a white man. It is my Jesus-viciously-nailed-to-the-cross to bear. Not saying being called white man by your relatives is close to being nailed through the hands on a big wooden cross, but it still hurts that is for sure. Not bleeding to death painful but hurt my feelings really bad, hurtful. Hurt like when you get a paper cut in between your fingers, that kind of pain. I am aware of my looks and how it reflects my attitudes and my actions in life. I wore my face like a curse. I didn't see myself as a white guy. So when I was accused or tagged as a white guy, it was belittling to me and shameful to me not being mistaken for Jay Silverheels or George Armstrong. I mean, if you look at Jay or George there is no mistaking them for being Indian (Indians of North America, those kind of Indians, you know woowoo woowoo Indians). They fit the image associated as the Indian. 

Society is still stuck on the image of the wild noble savage as the prime Indian. The perfect specimen of Indian should only look one way.  Beautiful bronze toned skin, a greasy head of long hair in braids, a feather on our head and the bare chest. For Indian Women it is the beautiful brown maiden with buckskin on her fine frame of a body. Over time the feather and buckskin is not really the identifier white people look for, they still look for the Indian look: brown face, black hair, sharp boned face (little do they know many Indians have round faces now. We say they are round and brown). The reason for this is white folk want to know who they are dealing with. You see, the white person needs to know they are superior to all others. In this way white folk can treat Indians accordingly, at the lower tier. Standing is a real concept in society and it can be a sweet limo ride for some while it can be a barefoot walk on gravel roads for others. With the lower tier, there is the absence of privilege or benefit of doubt; your word, you standing is not worth as much as the white folk. This standing is used against you, the Indian (also the Black, the Person of Colour) in all types of settings. 

Me & Earl Youngsters

I was renting a trailer from Moxley Rentals in Osborne Village in Winnipeg. Osborne Village is an eclectic community in the City of Winnipeg. lot of hipsters, travelers, youngsters, and some environmentalists.  I was with my friend Earl when we went to the little business shop.  Now Earl is not me, he is one dark Indian. So I went into the rental place to rent the trailer. The older white guy greeted me in a friendly manner. Earl entered behind me and I could see the old white man change at the moment. His friendly looking face dropped and his body stiffened. I noticed right away. Earl didn't seem to take notice as he was just looking around the shop. Lot of tools, machines, vacuums and things to rent. The old man went to do the paper work and I turned to Earl and said "that old man is racist." Speaking of my friend Earl, he got very sick within the last two years. I really thought he was not going to last days, never mind weeks or the last two years. Anyways, he was in and out of the hospital for long periods of time. He would leave the hospital go back to the Reserve and get sick again. One of the nights he got sick, his brother Buddy drove him in the City to the hospital emergency. Buddy phoned me to let me know he was at emergency with Earl. So I went to see them. There were no visitors allowed because of the COVID restrictions. Buddy had been sitting in his truck out in the parking lot for a couple of hours. When I got there, I went sit with him and asked him questions. He couldn't answer because he couldn't get anyone to talk to him at the hospital. So I decided to go and see what was going on, because no use letting Buddy sit out in the parking lot while it was winter in Winnipeg. I went in and talked to security. Security went and got the Nurse. I asked them why they weren't letting Buddy know what was going on, should he just wait or got back home, is what I asked. The nurse said they were going to keep Earl and for Buddy to go home. Now why they couldn't tell Buddy that is of course weird. So I went and let Buddy know. We laughed about sending in the white guy (me) to get answers. Buddy says "I knew to send in the white guy." I said maybe it was because it was an "old white guy" too. 

I never liked to admit I have privilege. Because admitting that would mean I am somehow the lesser Indian and no one likes to be lesser. But I know it is an advantage, not only for me, but for other Indians because we can use that privilege to fight those who hold the privilege to begin with, you dig? I am not going to let white society determine who I am, heck with that noise. So I wear privilege as an armor for my relatives, my family. It doesn't make me less or more. I am my community, my family, my people. So I say to you fuck it, send in the white looking Indian first.     

Suz & Me being oldsters 

In battle they get shot first anyways (but they can also get a good table at the restaurant or a decent room at the hotel).