I like to think we start out life with a wheelbarrow full of integrity, and every day we must push that wheelbarrow around through the personal acts of living our life. We push the wheelbarrow and occasionally hit a bump or a rock, and invariably some of that precious integrity spills out, and once that bit is gone, it is gone. However, we still have some integrity left to push around and protect from our mistakes and miscalculations and other human frailties. If we do the living part right at the end of that inevitable day when we set that wheelbarrow down and it's not empty, then we did it right.
I only know you through your writing, but I sense that just like Richard Wagamese, you have turned your heart toward truth. Wishing you 60 plus 60 years and a full wheelbarrow.
I thought I’d read everything Richard Wagamese wrote at least twice. Not sure how I missed this one. Giving thanks to kindle this morning! I think a measure of Richard’s brilliance is that his words speak just as strongly to a post-middle-age white woman as they do to you. And that I too can and do consider him a great teacher. We are indeed all in this together. All I can do is try not to contribute more white shit.
Line from first random poem read: “in the sky are pieces of me”.
I’m a school board member in our district on the Colville Reservation. Got asked by a Tribal Member if we taught that critical race shit to the kids in our school. After I told him that it’s college level stuff so we don’t teach those theories, I had to ask just what the fuck does he think that the grandparents who were forced into boarding schools are teaching their grandkids about their experiences. Unfortunately he’s a fella not only surrounds himself with “white shit” but buys into the whole Trump dialog.
Mark Helprin in his book Swan Lake (I know ballet is white shit) wrote "the power of adhesion is determined by group particle affinity" which is a profound statement. If you have affinity for Beethoven or Tchaikovsky that is not white shit, that is music appreciation, regardless of the culture that developed it. To appreciate the greatness of another culture's achievements (someone who wrote the 9th Symphony while completely deaf is incredible no matter his or her ethnicity) does not denigrate my ethnicity although Beethoven's ethnic group committed genocide against my people, and Tchaikovsky's Russia is trying to destroy Ukraine.. I try to avoid the shit that every culture produces and appreciate the marvelous achievements each one has produced. Sometimes I have to look hard to find the positive in some cultures; more often it is easy to see the evil. I think the secret to life is to see the beauty in societies and avoid, if one can, the wrongs many cultures perpetrate. As Tom Ryan's aunt learned from the Navajo we must "walk in beauty" despite all the wrongs humanity has perpetrated. It is hard, but we try. After all, none of us chose our parents, culture, skin color, or nation. But we do have affinity to the culture which we inherit as an accident of birth and this attraction fulfills us. It would be marvelous if each culture could tolerate others in peace. Is that possible? That is the great challenge humans have yet to accomplish. Can we overcome the territorial imperative and prejudices about the "other?" I am not optimistic.
Another essay well done. I think, however, that all peoples gather around themselves their own "shit" and attempt to believe that they alone are special. Anyone not anointed into their specific ceremony of life is suspect. All of our generations have not only mixed but hidden in fear, and it is this fear that results in the vicious unreality of hate and war. See only Trump and Putin manipulating it.
I find your last two paragraphs full of hope and love. And thank you for the poetry, as it is the function of artists to show us those realities.
I, white man, grew up in southern Ohio (Oyo), in a small city on the Ohio River, in a place that was once home to the mound builders, where freshly-plowed farm fields always turn up arrowheads, spear points and pottery shards. Not far from town is Serpent Mound, one of the largest effigy mounds on the planet. I grew up reading about Tecumseh, the Shawnee and the French and Indian War. At 30, I moved to Missoula and, thanks to my new friend who designed alcohol and drug treatment programs for many Montana tribes, I found myself at a summer pow wow near Arlee, watching the fancy dancers and the stick game, and meeting people like Bearhead Swaney. I spent 22 years in New Mexico, a state awash with the spirit magic of the pueblo tribes. All this to say, I carry with me some "Indian shit," a small nambe silver horned toad, a carved bear, an arrowhead, a pottery shard... all of it alive to me, and a reminder that Indigenous people are the one group of Americans who honor Mother Earth and its animals, plants, mountains and waters.
As a white woman of a certain age(having hit the big 7-0 over the past weekend), this is what I think. All of us should endeavor to nurture our uniqueness. Live where you want to live, read what you want to read, dress in a style that makes you happy and comfortable, develop your individual interests and talents. No matter where you come from, no matter what you look like. And above all, love who you love. Simply, be yourself. Truth will surround you.
And, I’m counting on you to be around a long time beyond your 60th year.
ps. in case you aren't aware (montana is along ways away), the lieutenant governor of minnesota is native. i am hoping she will become governor some day after the current democrat wins again in the fall: https://mn.gov/governor/about/peggyflanagan/
The line from White Shit that spoke to me most profoundly was, "where the crows speak Ojibway". What else is being said in the ceremony of life, that I am missing? Much too much, I'm afraid.
My mother wrote me today of feeling long ago being part of a great change everywhere, but that now: "Every change is longer and harder than any one of its particles understands." Somehow that feels like a bell chiming for me through reading your essay. These changes are all harder and longer.
Chris,
I like to think we start out life with a wheelbarrow full of integrity, and every day we must push that wheelbarrow around through the personal acts of living our life. We push the wheelbarrow and occasionally hit a bump or a rock, and invariably some of that precious integrity spills out, and once that bit is gone, it is gone. However, we still have some integrity left to push around and protect from our mistakes and miscalculations and other human frailties. If we do the living part right at the end of that inevitable day when we set that wheelbarrow down and it's not empty, then we did it right.
I only know you through your writing, but I sense that just like Richard Wagamese, you have turned your heart toward truth. Wishing you 60 plus 60 years and a full wheelbarrow.
I thought I’d read everything Richard Wagamese wrote at least twice. Not sure how I missed this one. Giving thanks to kindle this morning! I think a measure of Richard’s brilliance is that his words speak just as strongly to a post-middle-age white woman as they do to you. And that I too can and do consider him a great teacher. We are indeed all in this together. All I can do is try not to contribute more white shit.
Line from first random poem read: “in the sky are pieces of me”.
Thanks, Chris. 💚
I’m a school board member in our district on the Colville Reservation. Got asked by a Tribal Member if we taught that critical race shit to the kids in our school. After I told him that it’s college level stuff so we don’t teach those theories, I had to ask just what the fuck does he think that the grandparents who were forced into boarding schools are teaching their grandkids about their experiences. Unfortunately he’s a fella not only surrounds himself with “white shit” but buys into the whole Trump dialog.
Mark Helprin in his book Swan Lake (I know ballet is white shit) wrote "the power of adhesion is determined by group particle affinity" which is a profound statement. If you have affinity for Beethoven or Tchaikovsky that is not white shit, that is music appreciation, regardless of the culture that developed it. To appreciate the greatness of another culture's achievements (someone who wrote the 9th Symphony while completely deaf is incredible no matter his or her ethnicity) does not denigrate my ethnicity although Beethoven's ethnic group committed genocide against my people, and Tchaikovsky's Russia is trying to destroy Ukraine.. I try to avoid the shit that every culture produces and appreciate the marvelous achievements each one has produced. Sometimes I have to look hard to find the positive in some cultures; more often it is easy to see the evil. I think the secret to life is to see the beauty in societies and avoid, if one can, the wrongs many cultures perpetrate. As Tom Ryan's aunt learned from the Navajo we must "walk in beauty" despite all the wrongs humanity has perpetrated. It is hard, but we try. After all, none of us chose our parents, culture, skin color, or nation. But we do have affinity to the culture which we inherit as an accident of birth and this attraction fulfills us. It would be marvelous if each culture could tolerate others in peace. Is that possible? That is the great challenge humans have yet to accomplish. Can we overcome the territorial imperative and prejudices about the "other?" I am not optimistic.
Another essay well done. I think, however, that all peoples gather around themselves their own "shit" and attempt to believe that they alone are special. Anyone not anointed into their specific ceremony of life is suspect. All of our generations have not only mixed but hidden in fear, and it is this fear that results in the vicious unreality of hate and war. See only Trump and Putin manipulating it.
I find your last two paragraphs full of hope and love. And thank you for the poetry, as it is the function of artists to show us those realities.
I, white man, grew up in southern Ohio (Oyo), in a small city on the Ohio River, in a place that was once home to the mound builders, where freshly-plowed farm fields always turn up arrowheads, spear points and pottery shards. Not far from town is Serpent Mound, one of the largest effigy mounds on the planet. I grew up reading about Tecumseh, the Shawnee and the French and Indian War. At 30, I moved to Missoula and, thanks to my new friend who designed alcohol and drug treatment programs for many Montana tribes, I found myself at a summer pow wow near Arlee, watching the fancy dancers and the stick game, and meeting people like Bearhead Swaney. I spent 22 years in New Mexico, a state awash with the spirit magic of the pueblo tribes. All this to say, I carry with me some "Indian shit," a small nambe silver horned toad, a carved bear, an arrowhead, a pottery shard... all of it alive to me, and a reminder that Indigenous people are the one group of Americans who honor Mother Earth and its animals, plants, mountains and waters.
Hi Chris,
As a white woman of a certain age(having hit the big 7-0 over the past weekend), this is what I think. All of us should endeavor to nurture our uniqueness. Live where you want to live, read what you want to read, dress in a style that makes you happy and comfortable, develop your individual interests and talents. No matter where you come from, no matter what you look like. And above all, love who you love. Simply, be yourself. Truth will surround you.
And, I’m counting on you to be around a long time beyond your 60th year.
Sincerely,
Melissa
ps. in case you aren't aware (montana is along ways away), the lieutenant governor of minnesota is native. i am hoping she will become governor some day after the current democrat wins again in the fall: https://mn.gov/governor/about/peggyflanagan/
The line from White Shit that spoke to me most profoundly was, "where the crows speak Ojibway". What else is being said in the ceremony of life, that I am missing? Much too much, I'm afraid.
Once again, your writing resonates deeply. Thank you for putting it out there…..the world needs your voice🙏🏻
My mother wrote me today of feeling long ago being part of a great change everywhere, but that now: "Every change is longer and harder than any one of its particles understands." Somehow that feels like a bell chiming for me through reading your essay. These changes are all harder and longer.
Thank you, Chris. For your writing. For all the links to those informative articles. And that gorgeous ribbon skirt!
excellent writing chris. again.
Thanks for introducing me to Richard Wagamese, and for this entire essay.
Thank you for introducing me to Wagamese. I started listening right away this morning and I am renewed. Learning. I enjoy your writing.
Another great piece of writing that gets to the heart of it all.