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).