Thursday, November 26, 2009

Scales of ...


Libra
Libra
Libra






Question:  How many social workers does it take to tip the scales of justice ???

A: I don't know, we'll see when things actually change.

Metapolitics


Saturn Devouring His Son
ArtistFrancisco Goya
Yearcirca 18191823
TypeOil mural transferred to canvas
Dimensions143 cm × 81 cm (56¼ in × 31⅞ in)
LocationMuseo del PradoMadrid

"Saturn Devouring His Son is the name given to a painting by Spanish artist Francisco Goya. It depicts the Greek myth ofCronus (in the title Romanised to Saturn), who, fearing that his children would overthrow him, ate each one upon their birth. It is one of the series of Black Paintings that Goya painted directly onto the walls of his house sometime between 1819 and 1823."


This picture always reminds me of the good people who start out in tribal politics/organizations- wanting to do god things- often accomplishing good things...  only to fall victim to their own lust for power.  Power can be utilized to enact positive change, for certain, but it can also poison people negating their own good intentions.  No good comes from going after people also trying to do good, even if they disagree with you.



Politically correct is meaningless without being tempered by empathy.

Being Enlightened doesn't mean you are not a part of the problem, 
and being problematic doesn't mean you are not a part of the solution.

So why is it ???


"The Cultural Defense of Hooty Croy
On the night of July 17, 1978 dozens of police officers engaged in a gun battle with five Northern California Indians who had a single .22 rifle. More than a hundred shots were fired. Three Indians were wounded. A policeman was killed. 
After spending eight years on Death Row for first degree murder Patrick “Hooty” Croy, an Indian of Shasta-Karok descent was granted a retrial. His new defense team, headed by J. Tony Serra, argued Croy acted in self-defense and gave supporting evidence of the genocide against California Indians that has continued since the 1850’s. This strategy, known as a cultural defense, was used to explain why Croy feared for his life when he returned fire."
---http://www.shenandoahfilms.com/reasontofear-theculturaldefenseofhootycroy.aspx


So why is it no one seems to know the history of brutality in their own backyards?
The public schools teach Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee, while genocide in Northwestern California remains taboo.
People watch Lakota Woman & Pow-wow Highway for entertainment without doing anything to try and reverse the systematic oppression of native peoples everywhere- be it government enforced, or capitalism imposed; the creation of a go-road, or the subjegation of a race of people via boarding schools.
Liberals read native american spiritual biographies, while simultaneously not loving the marginalized drunken indians in their own backyards (and they don't even notice the irony).

Com'mon people!  We must educate ourselves.




The Basket...

the basket used to be a metaphor 
for local indian families it was the shelter from the storm

when the visitors came 
slowly but surely
we lost our everyday weavers 
one woman at a time

today some no longer value our baskets
people pawn their grandmother's regalia 
without the blink of an eye
younger generations don't gather or weave as often as those that came before,
some don't understand the value of baskets or the value of tradition itself.

when i was in high school my mother was learning to weave
i would drive her from gathering site to gathering site 
her basket teacher used to say i was lucky to be growing up around all the women
mom used to make me crawl around on the river bar and get her roots
"Boy's have to be good for something," she'd say.
(laughter)

now, my mother's basket teacher has become my daughter's basket teacher
i'm still surrounded by women
still driving from gathering site to gathering site
still good for something-
and continuity can exist...

so when i look around the world
when i see the pots and pans that have replaced our baskets
i look to the local indian families
and hardly wonder how our community has come to be in the state its in.

we are still here, because of people like my mother...

and yet we are barely here because of the lack of value placed on things that bring us
instant gratification
store bought pots and pans do not endure
they are replaceable
they are abusable 
they hold campbell's soups, and commodity pastas
but act as a colander when we try to place our families inside

some of us have become confused
we think our family members are replaceable
are abusable

for those of us who have forgotten the importance of our baskets
its time to remember.




 

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Chance

this weekend i was at the beginning 
of what could be a new beginning.
i found myself bearing witness to a woman 
with a chance in front of her.

there was a room full of people who care.
a young mother sat in the center of all her children.
surrounded by cultural items, indian wealth all carefully laid across tables...
hands, heads, backs-
the regalia danced in healing circles around a room full of song
learning
laughter

and the big cousins taught the babies how to dance themselves into existence 
as indian people
and the children had pride, showed strength
wore resilience
it took the form of abalone,
feathers...

i hope the mother gets her children back.

i hope Del Norte works with the family to facilitate a culturally appropriate plan of care.

i hope the family gets to keep teaching it's children how to dance...

Pow Wow... the best of times, the past times.

A hara-hara time ago, there waz pow-wowing in Humboldt & DelNorte counties...

It was a simpler time.  
People who never knew their local cultures came together from intertribal walks of life to 
PowWow up,
and dance
Dance
DAnCe ! ! !

there was fry bread and salmon, local vendors and people from a thousand miles away
there were elders and youngers gossiping, 
gentleman's choice, ladies choice, couples dancing, potato dancing, competition dancing
and money prizes.

i heard tell of one of our local girls
who participated in California Pow Wow Competitive dancing 
and she ran seven miles a day as a part of her stamina training
and won $4,000.00 a summer to put herself through school...
but what has happened now?

at the recent elders dinner in Eureka, as i sat listening to a young fellow educate me about Leonard Peltier and i wondered why he wasn't talking about Hooty Croy?
later, as people that didn't look ndn to me danced to guitar music waving thier taffetta scarves...
i kind of missed the PowWows,
at least then lots of our people participated
and new unions were formed 
new alliances between traditionalists and other kinds of traditionalists
between fancy dancers and jinglers
and our local religions remained private
intimate
closed to the pub...

i know, to a certain extent some of our culture has to be shared to prevent pangeaNDNism...
and some of our friends have to be from outside of our culture in order to encourage dialouge and cross-cultural education-

all i'm saying is times have changed...
and perhaps i'm missing the potato dance.