It Ain’t Easy Being Indian – September 2020

0
226
views
photo of ricey wild

By Ricey Wild

My personal thing is I can find humor in anything. Especially my own trials and tribulations. But now? No. I apologize if you opened to read my column knowing I can get at least a little snort out of you. I enjoy and appreciate our shared humanity – that what I’ve experienced in my life may also resonate with you in yours. That connection means everything to me and is the sole reason I continue to share the absurd, tragic and blessed life I live. Like most of you, I have been isolated, in my case even more, and have watched in horror what is happening to our nation. To that point I give you this: HOW MUCH MORE DO WE HAVE TO TAKE?

I speak for myself. Still, I know there are millions of non-pink people, globally, who feel as I do. What did your pink ancestors think? That we BIPOC would all submit willingly to racist and oppressive war tactics, because that is what they are? The simple answer is NOOOOOOO!!! We see you pinks now, your insecure and hateful agenda to dominate. That ideology has never worked in the past millennia nor will it now. This regime is over.

We, The People, have thus said so – let it be written.

I’m pretty sure that most pink people have not let their loved ones go out the door without wondering if they would ever see them again in this life. I had to print out instructions for my son for when, not if, he came into contact with police so they would not shoot him dead and I would have to join the Mothers Club of non-pink Mothers mourning their child. Murdered by police. The ones who swore an oath to protect and serve…pink people and properties. Hah! For a moment, put yourself in our shoes and don’t think: feel.

Change, big change came from overseas when the first pilgrims and then the rest of the invaders came ashore here on Turtle Island. I imagine they saw a beautiful, plenteous land with more than enough for everyone – and then massacred the Indigenous People who lived there to keep it all for themselves. The East Coast Indigenous who showed the pinks how to survive without eating each other, for instance. That’s just one historical fact.

Then the immigrants established towns per their old countries and decided they need more lands and WE Indigenous people were in the way.

This is America.

When the pinks attempted to enslave the Indigenous people to do the work on stolen lands, they ran away. In response the pinks imported Africans who became slaves.

This is America.

Ya’ll go ahead and blow your pink supremacist horns all yooz want. We know this and no, it will not stand. THIS IS WHY THE RNC (Repulican National Committee) is so fanatical and desperate. There are more of us than there are of you. Afraid? What?! Hahahahaha!!!

On a more personal, crappy (but good) news note, I didn’t have a heart attack last week. I have never felt such pain around my chest like I did that day. The constriction went away after about 15 minutes but I made the mistake of telling the young woman who helps me shower. (Merit needs a raise.) Anyhoo, I lived but only after being hauled away in an ambulance. A huge fire truck showed up first, sirens blasting (while I was smoking a cig and wondering who is was for). Then the Fire Chief showed up and was informed I was not dead yet and then both left after the ambulance showed up. My so-called neighbors across the road were all on their porch clucking and all I can say is “Soo glad I can count on yooz”!

Well, the emergency room Doc ordered multiple tests and scans and it turns out I’m gonna live, for now. Um…sorry! Or, yer welcome!

I thought I had a ride out of that pink hellhole (I did NOT see one other BIPOC other than myself the entire time I was languishing in the ER) thinking about my precious Fuzz-Butz and how I have not yet written their biographies lest I perish soon. The person who told me they would be there to pick me up totally scabbed on me, declaring they had such an awful day, while I was stuck in a wheelchair with no way home.

Whatever, I called my dear Ole Unk and told him about my dilemma. He responded, “Well I guess I have to” come get me. As if that was not enough, a huge fog bank rolled in and it was a sketchy ride home to Rezberry because of other drivers.

Bless that man.

Next month? You got bail for me?