Garth Brooks, The Dance Video? John Wayne WTF?

 I was zipping through channels and there was a Video of Garth Brooks speaking about his song the Dance: "At the opening of the music video, Brooks explains that the song is written with a double meaning - both as a love song about the end of a passionate relationship, and a story of someone dying because of something he believes in, after a moment of gory." In the video there are images of Lane Frost, a Bull Rider killed by a Bull. Keith Whitley, killed by drinking too much booze. 1998 Space Challenger Crew who were blown to nothing but burnt and decaying flesh (They did search and found remains of bodies). Martin Luther King Jr. who was shot and killed by a J.E. Ray (but could have been President Hover and his gang, so they say). John F. Kennedy was shot by Lee Harvey Oswald (we don't know who got him to do it). Finally, we have John Wayne, notorious white supremacist and actor who killed a million Indians on film. These are the folks Garth Brooks had in his video to show his double meaning of the end of a love and dying for something you lived for. 

I can see it, I mean Martin Luther King Jr. was working hard at a cause of civil rights but was murdered. He did indeed die for what he believed in. Lane was a Bull Rider, his work, and he died at work. John F Kennedy killed for being top boss. NASA crew, died at their job as well, blown up. Keith, he is the lyrics of a country song, dying drunk. John Wayne smoked his way to death, getting ate up with Cancer. I guess you can say, that him too, John Wayne died following his dream, of a heavy smoker. For me, the people in the video all resonate except for John, Keith, and the seven NASA crew. I mean sure it was awful for the crew but really who knew them before that? Were they icons? I guess, but name them and see if we don't have to look them up. Keith was a booze hound, and how many booze hounds die because of the drink. I think if that's the measurement, we should have had a real icon up there, like Bon Scott. Even Lane Frost, but there was a movie made about him, called 8 Seconds. I didn't bother to see it. Maybe I should have but it didn't excite me or interest me. Sure I like to watch a good Bull Ride just as much as the next person but I would rather watch a Korean crime drama. Yes, in terms of dying for your passion, the Seven NASA Crew did it. They should be in the video, because we will look them up on Google. But John Wayne? This is a stretch that even those Stretch Armstrong dolls wouldn't live up to.

 Since it was Garth Brooks' video, he could do the heck what he wanted and put whoever he wanted into his video. But - if it were me, I would go another way. Sure MLK Jr. is a good choice, same with JFK, (perhaps the Seven) it would play well for a certain crowd; the old, the Woke (maybe), and some of the USA chanters. Me, I would put Pound Make, Big Bear. These guys are dead for sure. Maybe they didn't die in a hail of bullets, but when they were alive they stood for something. So they would be good to show case their image in the Dance video. Another person I would put in the video is Elder Peter O'Chiese. There are many who believe Elder O'Chiese was instrumental in Traditional Ceremony being brought back to many Indigenous communities and people. This is significant because the Traditional belief structure and Indigenous identity suffered greatly under the crushing weight of colonialism, religious dogma, and main stream hatred. There are many people who could be in the Dance video if it were mine; Pauline Johnson-Tekohinwake, Sheila Watt-Cloutier, Kahentinetha Horn, Waneek Horn-Miller, Alanis Obomsawin, Tommy Prince, Graham Greene, but some of those folks are not dead. So there's that. 

And I don't think I would use the song the Dance. It is a nice song for sure, but there are many other better songs out there. So Long Marianne by Leonard Cohen fits pretty good for a love ending song. Now that I think about it, fuck Garth Brooks and his John Wayne. A better song would be Red Bull's Tearful Honour Song. Yeah, so let Garth have his Dance, I know who I would Dance with. How about you, who would be in your video of the Dance?  

My Dear Friends

 My Dear Friend: I remember the times I hurt you. There is no amount of remorse, regret and apologies which can make up for all the hurt, the unkind and mean words. The ugly gestures. I live a life to try and never repeat the ugliness but to make life as warm, kind and appreciative as can be. You are the best person to ever come into my life. 

My Dear Friend: Your friendship as a child has been wonderous. It is too bad I didn't appreciate how good life is with friends like you in it. 

My Dear Friend: I will come to your defense. You are covered. You are not alone. 

My Dear Friend: It was me, who let you down. I should have been a better friend. I should have stayed in touch. I should have reached out more.

My Dear Friend: You were mean to me. You were cruel to me. You hurt me. I forgave you. 

My Dear Friend: I was mean to you, I hurt you. I am truly sorry. 

My Dear Friend: You were there with knowledge. I took you for granted. I wasted your time. You had Teachings. I miss your Teachings, your words. 

My Dear Friend: I took you for granted. I regret my actions. 

My Dear Friend: Your laughter, your teasing, your jokes, your feelings shared.  I appreciate you. 

My Dear Friend: We didn't know each other for long, but knowing you was a good thing in my life. 

My Dear Friend: I think of you with a smile on my face. You are in a good place in my Heart. 

My Dear Friend: I miss you.

My Dear Friend: I do love you. 

My Dear Friend: There a number of you. Thank you.

Donovan 1985 - 2005 

I Ate A Puppy. I Helped Cook It.

Here's the thing, there is no doubt I have said ugly racist, misogynist, homophobic things in my life. Not only have I said horrible ugly things, but I have committed monstrous acts, property damage, theft, reckless behaviour and violence.  Heck, even eating a puppy was not beyond something I would have done. This is who I am, or at least who I was and it may not have been very long ago. The fact that my past has ugliness in it, is my fault. I wish I didn't do and say many a thing. It is those words, those actions which some folk only know us with. Some people will only know you as that mistake, that wrong choice. What can you do about it? It is truly the enlighten person who can say, "who gives a rat's ass," when considering other's view of you. I believe most people want to be liked. We want to have the approval of others to make us believe we are good people. The reality is, we have no business in other peoples' opinions. If they like us and view as a person worth knowing, that is awesome. If they don't like us, well, it might be hard to take but what are we going to do, give them money, bend over, so they like us? 

I have made the cardinal sin of giving a hoot about what people think about me. In a few cases it caused me to have real anxiety. I never knew anxiety was really a thing before. I heard people talk about anxiety and I just thought, "nervous?" I fell into the dark-deep-tunnel-of-despair some years ago. Since then, I have learned the meaning behind anxiety, anger, and depression. It is a place I don't recommend you to visit. However, the trip is most likely to be out of your control in any case. I have opinions, both in real time and on Earth and of course, opinions in the wired world of social media. With voicing, expressing and sharing your opinion, it is going to cause a reaction. Not all opinions receive a response, most and many are just ignored. There at times when you invest in the responses to your opinions and that is where it can be a mistake. It is there when we take in another person's opinion is when we can hurt ourselves. It is when we emotional invest in what other's think of us that is where we help cook the puppy. We start to fire, but they cook the puppy. We are then fed the puppy by listening to judgements, responses by them on our views and actions.  We listen, feel it and we then eat the puppy. 

I remember when I gave this inebriated guy a ride home, and he was says, "You're not an asshole. My mom says your an asshole." It was funny and kind of surprising. It was surprising because I don't believe I had really crossed paths with his Mom, but I knew who she was. Our community, aka Reserve, was not that huge. So I wondered what did I do to get her view on me.  Another time, my good buddy was telling me, "Hey, I mentioned your name at Anne's place and she really hates you. The hate was just visual. You could just see the hate to you." I was disappointed and felt bad, because I always thought I was cordial, if not nice to this Woman. That is the thing do, we don't have to always eat the puppy. They can feel how they want but you don't have to eat what they are cooking. There must be people we don't like as well. So what business  do we have trying to force a puppy meal on them. 

I have no business in people's opinion of me. Why is it my business to begin with? So you think I eat puppies and what if I did? What if I cooked it, while other's waited for it to be cooked, along with some corn, carrots in a dog stew? Would it be your business? Perhaps, but it's not my business if it is your business to be in my business, you dig? I have to understand if I'm going to open my mouth and spit things out, there is going to be someone out there who will want to feed me a puppy. But... it is my choice whether I eat the puppy or not. And believe me, I did eat puppy and I don't want to eat anymore. It tasted like wet dog. Since it was cooked with singed fur and that scorched taste wasn't appealing. 

So I think I will give the next cooked puppy a pass. If people want to feed me a puppy, good on them, but I don't feel it would be bad manners to not eat their puppy. 

Black Jesus Sent a Sign, and It Was a Hat Flip, and A Chair

 Damien Pickett is a co-Captain of a Riverboat in Montgomery, Alabama. Damien was trying to get a boat to move at a water dock, so the Riverboat, which was carrying 252 passengers could disembark. The passengers waited 45 minutes for the private boat to move. The owner(s) of the private boat did not want to move, instead they responded to the requests to movie with slurs, and obscene gestures. amien Pickett was adamant that the boat had to move and he expressed his frustration at the owners of the private boat.  It all came to ahead when one of the boat owners punched Damien Pickett. It was then the Hat-Flip occurred. Damien flipped his hat in the air and defended himself with punching back. It is important to note, Damien is a Black man, and the owners of the private boat are White folk. As Damien defended himself he was bombarded with a fury of White people punching him from all angles. Damien was pummeled with fists of fury from the White Hanks and Karen's.  From there you could see it: the Bonds of Slavery where being broken. Black people came running, came swimming to the aide of Damien. This was not going to be a scene from a Mandingo or Django movie, where the White Plantation owners get to whip their "n***rs." *Nope, there was a collective scream, "No more." Instead we see a page taken from the movie Exterminate All The Brutes.  Exterminate All The Brutes takes you on a journey of what Colonialism, Civilization, and Extermination was/is at the hands of White people. The crust of the movie is White Colonialism created the world mess and People are pushing back now. 

Image: IBYG_CRYPTO/Twitter

The fight, (brawl as the media has labeled it) between a group of White men, White Women, Black men, and Black Women has caused a media frenzy. Media is framing the brawl as a racial divide, a throwback to Civil Rights Struggles. Other's are saying it has nothing to do with race and it is a "one-off."  I have a huge penis and it is 14 inches long. Yeah, that's right, everyone can lie. The fight is a picture of how things are, for White people and Black people (and People of Color, People on the margins, Indigenous People, the Gay folk and their group). You see here, the White group, were exercising their privilege. They weren't going to move their god-damn boat as they have to right to do anything they want, as it was bestowed upon them at their birth, being white. Yes, being White has its privileges, like the feeling of "fuck off, I am white and you're just a nobody." 

People are charged about the fight, brawl, consequence and whatever you want to call it. The fight on the docks is a postcard from history. The relationship people have with each other is strained and rightfully so. White people carry the arrogance of superiority. It is seen everyday, with a White Police Officer kneeling on the neck of a Blackman, all the while knowing he is being watched as he slowly, painfully chokes the life out of the Blackman. It is the sitting Supreme Court Judge who is the "House-Tom" for the great white masters. It is the White President who can boldly call a whole continent filled with riches of History, Cultures, Treasures, People, and call it a "shit-hole." It is the white man who can shoot up a car filled with Black youth, for playing music and think he is in the right. It is the actor who can dress up in Black face at a Gala event because he thinks he has the privilege due to his Black Girl friend (at the time). 

Call the fight what you will, a brawl, a loving embrace, a cross burning, a toilet being overturned or a Dancing with the Stars. The thing is, it is a paradigm of relations between White colonialism, civilization and extermination, or as we know it, White Privilege. The fight had White people running to their bathrooms in a collective heap of bowel explosions; they were shitting themselves. The Boat-dock arse-kicking of White people is a wake-up. They (white folk) witnessed the boiled egg of white supremacy being cracked by a black hand. They see, in video, the challenge to their white privilege, and it is making them clutch their pearls and Rolexes (Oops, it should be Iphones and Apple Watches now). The fear is there, but still so is their arrogance of dominance. 

The Flip of the Hat was a sign, it was the bold middle finger to the status quo of society. Damien said it for everyone, "Fuck you and your little red wagon." The White Chair used to bash White heads was the exclamation point on the birthday cake of the best surprise party given this year. 

Who You See Here, What You Hear Here, Let It Stay Here

I was doing a night shift at an Adult Treatment Centre (for Alcoholics) when I was 20 years old. I didn't have much to do, just walk around the building as everyone slept. It was an old building with two floors and a basement. It was about 6 in the morning and I was looking out the window of the second floor. The south view was of a big field and the Reserve Townsite across the highway. I saw two people walking towards the Centre from the Townsite and they were holding hands. As they got closer I knew it was the cook, a very nice lady who was always nice to me. The man she was walking with was a friend of my Dad's. He was a married man with a family. So it was interesting and funny to me. I was young and didn't really see "older people" as being sexually active, never mind fooling around. Both of the people are now deceased and I may have not followed the slogan of, who you see here, let it stay here. I may have told a few people about what I saw. In my defense, I am a gossip bag and relatively stupid. 

I was thinking about the whole Sinead O'Connor dying at 56 years old thing. The reason it resonated with me is for a couple of reasons: one was her song Nothing Compares to You was released at a time when my wife and I were young and were only a few years into our relationship. The other reason is, Sinead didn't adhere to the whole "what you hear, let it stay here" law. She went public with the Pope and how his Christian Soldiers were raping kids at their pleasure. It was a "State Secret" and no one was to speak publicly about all that "fucking, sucking and let the good times roll" done by the Jesus's team. Of course for the Indian population it was an open secret. We weren't really suppose to acknowledge it. We were to keep it like how you keep your sins to yourself. Except only to be stated in a dark closed closet, where a small window is open and you tell it to another person sitting in the dark with a cloak on. Only then can you say it. With Sinead, her little letting it spill out about all the kids being used as a smorgasbord of sexual desserts by the Pope's boys, caused a roar, an uproar actually. People vomited at the sight of their Pope being ripped in half on live television. Sinead was quickly burnt at the stake. Not literally but pretty close to it. Her professional career, her personal life was actively ruined by Jesus and the good folk of the Cross. All because she did not adhere to what you see here, what you hear here, let it stay here. 

The amount of secrets people are expected to keep is staggering. We live in a world where we are demanded to keep secrets: signing non-disclosure agreements, following privacy laws, and societal norms of denouncing the whistle-blower, the snitch and the rat. We quickly adopt the negative terms for people who expose information, for people who dare to share what they see and hear. We've seen it with people who have exposed the crimes of government, the bad things the military does. Secrets are normal and some are needed, there is no doubt. When to say what you see or hear can be clear as a sunny mid-day in the Prairies or as dark as when you are sitting in the outdoor-shitter at midnight. We just have to trust our own decision, I guess, like when Father Arthur Masse was buggering the young girls in our Reserve. We just put our collective hands over our eyes, our mouths and Masse continued with his desires of the flesh, as he would have known from Galatians, 5:17-21. 

Indigenous communities have been taught to keep secrets. It went against their whole societal ways of living. The little dark closet with the man in a cloak was forced upon them. Confessional Booth, Boxes were the tool of the Church, a tool to keep secrets (and provide verbal porn reading for the Priests).  We Indians now live with keeping secrets as the default. Secrets have allowed all sorts of mold, corruption, abuse, violence, and predators to evolve. The Church was ripe with jackals, hounds and whores with crosses around their necks, and nice gold rings with red gems in the middle: "Enter the confessional booth, a.k.a. the dark box, a piece of furniture designed by Cardinal Charles Borromeo, with a grille and curtain to separate the priest from the penitent. “The box was meant to bring an end to the scandal of sexual solicitation,” writes Cornwell, but tragically it only increased the incidences. “The Borromeo box, for all its physical barriers, still allowed for whispered pillow talk in the dark: the penitent’s voice and breath up close to the confessor’s ear. Many married woman, suffering from domestic and marital frustrations, became addicted to the atmosphere of crepuscular intimacy.”  Can you hear the priest saying, "you dirty dirty whore, tell me more." 

We went from community openness to a closed circle, a dysfunctional society. Well, things are once again changing, the community Circles are becoming a source of openness and transparency. We go into Sharing Circles, speaking to the Creator in front of witnesses. We share without fear inside the Sweat Lodge Ceremony, the Sundance and other Ceremonial Gatherings. We don't rely on the sneaky cloaked man in a dark closet telling us we are forgiven as long as we go do a few silent prayers. Still we have a long way to go. Many of our Chiefs and Councils live with the secrets of what they do in their lofty chambers of decision making. As well the Indigenous lobby groups, like the Assembly of First Nations, Manitoba Metis Federation, et al., are making deals which affect the lowly Reserve dweller, Indigenous Joe and Sarah. Indian People in the political arena getting rich off the financial minnows they get from the Big Sharks, governments, resource companies and other predators. 

Privacy laws can protect the innocent for sure, but those same laws protect the Windigos, the sexual demons, poisonous flies, greedy skunks and wily coyotes. So our communities need to embrace the open voice. Even if it is hard to hear or to see. I would rather our own community draws open the curtains, rather than some government entity, law enforcement Stormtrooper banging on the community door (Financial Transparency Act). I expect to see more Indian leaders taking off their cloaks and exposing pure nakedness of information to the people. 

Norval Morrisseau: Windigo 

And I don't really believe the slogan, "Who you see here, what you hear here, Let it stay here" is as beneficial as Alcohol Anonymous (AA) promotes. Simply because of all the secrecy in AA, there is no way to measure or see the results of success with AA. It has become modern folklore as the only way to sobriety success.  But who in the hell knows. 

Holy Christ, Winnipeg Hero Kyle Klochko Is An Arsehole

Well it is quite a thing to be living in Winnipeg, Manitoba. A couple of bodies, (more for sure) Native Women are buried in the city's landfill, the garbage dump. A serial killer Jeremy Skibicki has been butchering Indian Women and using the big metal garbage bins to trash the Women. So it is known there are least three dead Women in the landfill and perhaps more. Skibicki killed three Indian Women, where two have been identified but the third is not identified. It is sad but Indigenous Women are murdered and go missing in Canada (and the United States) regularly. The police knew the Women were trashed in the land fill, the garbage dump but didn't reveal it, until they had charged Skibicki. It is understandable they didn't want to mess up the case against him, I guess. Skibicki is one of those Nazi-loving, Women-hating, Racist monsters.

Jeremy Skibicki - Indigenous Women Killer 

I noticed being labeled a racist has no real meaning any more. If you are labeled misogynist, or being anti-semitic, or homophobic, then it might have some consequence of damnation. Racism is almost accepted in North America as part of society. So knowing you are a racist, you carry it like a gold trophy and it seems to be rewarded. Winnipeg once carried the Racism torch as being the most racist city in  Canada. A label they earned with ease, but Thunder Bay came in heavy to take the crown. Thunder Bay saw Winnipeg being glorified in the Maclean's magazine article and said "hold my beer." Thunder Bay went on to stomp the Indigenous people and have taken over the banner of being the most racist. A difficult task because of all the competition from White Supremacy provinces, like Alberta, Saskatchewan and the Maritimes where anti-Indigenous sentiment soars like a white dove. The anti-Black sentiment is also high in Canada, but Quebec and Ontario carry top-dog ribbon when it comes to hate on Blacks. 

Manitoba was asked to search the landfill, the garbage dump for the Indigenous Women's bodies. Canada, Manitoba and the City of Winnipeg choked on their perogies and cabbage rolls before saying "ah it's too expensive." What did the daughters, sisters, moms of the Indigenous people do, when they heard the news of "too fucking expensive?' They raised their voices, moved their feet over to the landfill roads so they could be seen. What did the average Winnipegger do? They (media included) spat garbage on the Women through social media. One White man of Winnipeg, took it a bit further, he literally loaded the back of his truck with mud and took it to dump on a MMIW image at the dump. The MMIW image was painted on the road, where Kyle Klochko went to dump his garbage on the mural. Kyle screamed at the folks at the land fill road. He mocked them about their Women being dead. It seems people don't like that kind of thing, so people went to visit Kyle at his house. Police came to look after Kyle. The media news crews came and did stories on Kyle being victimized. Winnipeggers got teeth gashing mad at the people who went to Kyles, calling them angry Mobs. The news did an positive interview with Kyle ensuring he was to martyred for his heroic stance against those "Merciless Indian Savages." 

The Premier of Manitoba has no compassion for the Indigenous people. Recent polls suggest majority of Winnipeggers do not want to spend cash on searching the land fills for the Women. I guess Indigenous Women don't matter. It is quite funny, while there is a push for people to do search landfills for metals. There is an increasing call for land fill searching because of the "precious metals" found in amongst the garbage and  the filth. Land fill searching is actually called treasure hunting. Looking for Indigenous remains is of no value to main stream society. It is really weird what they (society) consider value  in looking in the dumps? A white man was uncharacteristically dumped in an Ontario land fill. Something you really don't hear about.  Guess what happened? That is right, they took searching the dump just like they were searching for hidden treasures. It is of no coincidence that individual was a man and was white. Ah yes there is the treasure. They could use the treasure hunting for metals and do search for remains at the same time, maybe that would gain public interest. 

Do you understand why people are so upset about the whole not searching for the Women and why Kyle touched a nerve or two? There is a crisis in Canada, and the United States. Indigenous Women are being taken, being killed and no one cares. Only the Indigenous people care about the Women being taken and in cases slaughtered. There were voices, many voices speaking of this phenomenon, Missing Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW). The act by Kyle was not only insulting, disrespectful, and hateful but it was really hurtful. We are speaking about lives of Women. Women who are sisters, daughters, moms, aunties, and cousins to all of us Indians.  Kyle is the symbol of Canada and how it feels about the Indigenous people. Kyle brought it out in full display, with the knowledge he would be carried around on the shoulders of his peers and his fellow Canadians. He had no worry of condemnation, his group would rally for him. Kyle not only shit on the three missing Indigenous Women at the Winnipeg garbage dump, he dumped shit on every single Indigenous person in Canada. He showed the world what Canada thinks about Indian Women. The resounding "no" by the governments and the main stream population only signifies the deep loathing against the Indigenous people. Kyle's actions and his visceral hatred was full on display and it resonated in everyone. For the main stream population it was "yeah, speak from your heart Kyle," and to the Indigenous folk, it is "their hate has poisoned their hearts, they don't see us as people." 

So you know what I say, Fuck you Kyle, Fuck you Manitoba Premier, Fuck you Winnipeg Mayor, and fuck you too, Canada and may Jeremy Skibicki be given the stick and never sleep. 

What's in a Name.

Giving a name to your baby is a huge responsibility. They have to carry the moniker for their entire lives. Growing up with the name, where it can be twisted, abbreviated, shortened, or amended by their peers and the relatives. I think about this now and kind of laugh, my name is Steve. Actually, on my birth certificate it is spelled Stephen, like in the Bible. In elementary school, when the teacher did attendance, she or he would call out the names of the kids in class. I remember the teacher reading out my name and saying Stefan. The outburst of laughter can be still heard in my ears, my face gets hot, and my head bows down in embarrassment and shame. The teacher pronounced as it were a French name, Ste-fan. My friend, Smiley, was relentless with his teasing. When he found out how my name was spelled, Stephen, he would call me Step, Hen. I laugh now but I still don't like the name Stephen, like in the Bible (who was stoned to death) and like the horrible disreputable Stephen Harper (put a plastic bag over my head now). The strange thing is my Mom never, ever wrote my name as Stephen or called me that. I never knew it was how my name was spelled. My Mom spelled it Steve. Like Steve not in the bible, but like Steve Irwin, one of the greatest Steve's who has walked this great Earth. Or even like Steve McQueen, and the great Steve Buscemi, both awesome in their own ways. 

I am not sure how the spelling of my name was written the way it is. I know the Baptism Certificates were filled out by the Nuns, so maybe that had something to do with it? My Mom and Dad are dead so I never even thought about asking them. So the mystery of my name will remain for all time to come. When they do a documentary about my exploits or TMZ (maggots) report their scuzz reporting of my demise, they will spell it like in the Bible, Step-hen. But don't fret, my family knows what my true calling is and how I came to be. 

I can't remember why I even broached the name thing. I think it was because of something, but what it was, I don't know. I just know it was not about my name at all. It might have to do with getting the Indian Name or as some call it, the Spirit Name.  It is a good thing to have an Indian name for sure. 

Speaking of me, a friend of mine died yesterday. He went to sleep on his couch and never woke up. It is really sad. This man was bigger than life, a generous, kind and really loud in a good way. The wife and I were talking about our friend. I said, but not in a callus way, that he went in the best way possible, go to sleep, not suffer and just not get up. I told my wife that is how I want to go, and if she could somehow make that happen. She said she will do her best. 

Getting or bestowing an "Indian name" to your child, is one of the best things you can do as a parent. I am speaking of Natives here, not non-Natives and getting their names. One of the many things, the "powers-to-be" did when they interacted with Indigenous folk, was to rename them. Not only their whole community name (thus Indians) but their actually individual names as well. Can you imagine, how crazy that is. I bet they would have named Crazy Horse, Chester if they had the chance. The Leader of our community who signed Treaty One was named Kakekapenais (Bird Forever). His named was later changed by government and his descendants now have the last name of Mann. This practice of renaming people was done everywhere. Who knows how things would have been if those damn pesky Church folk and their government cousins, would have just let people be. I mean who knows, my name might have been "Gone with the Wind" or something cool like that. Instead it's Steve. Actually Steve is a pretty cool name but it's no Hole-In-The-Day. We have witnessed some people change their names in public, lot of famous folk, like  Muhamad Ali. He called his old name a "slave name." 

You know what is awesome? People are reclaiming the right to name themselves and their kiddies, with Indian names. Not sure if it is right to call it Indian Names as this is kind of weird and a mistaken label for who we are, so, the people are getting Anishinaabe names (If I was speaking out loud with people around, someone would go, Ah-ho). There was Indian Woman who wanted to get an Indian name, so she went see an Elder who did Naming Ceremony. She received the name Buffalo Woman. She didn't like being referred to as a Buffalo. She decided to go to another Ceremony person for a new Indian name. She received the name, Brown Buffalo Woman. There you have it, What's in a name.