It Ain’t Easy Being Indian – July 2022

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By Ricey Wild

My friend Jeff said about me, “Aw! She’ll be all right, she’s a Tuff Ole Broad.” I took it to be a great compliment and sort of blushed, too. Yup, I lowered my lashes in smug agreement and then roared with laughter. There goes that facade. That was not the first time anyone has said or thought that about me. I am Tuff!

See now? I’m just tryna hide here in Rezberry, live out my last years with peace, something I’ve never experienced in my entire life. There’s always something, ennit? Life will always intrude on your happy solitude. Then life calls you, writes to you, shows up uninvited and just basically stalks you until you die.

Okay, so no more Debbie Downer for now. Well….?

My Gramma had stories about everyone in her family. This one is when I was but a wee child. I was with my grandparents driving who knows where on a dirt road, and I was in the back seat of the rickety car – which is what Indians could afford then. Gramma Rose looked back at me and I was covered in dirt and had little red eyes. Their car had rusted out on the bottom.

I have always laughed at that story, every time. Now I feel that, metaphorically, is how I am now. Not neglected or anything, it’s the existential dirt and oily grime that covers my entire being and is succumbing to it’s toxicity by the sick, sick people who hold power.

Capitalists. They have to go and stop messing up the natural cycle of life.

Ya, ya, ya. For those whom are aware plz encourage people how to grow their own vegetable gardens. Go back to the old days of barter and community interests. As for myself, I want to help but I’m only good for fertilizer or shucking corn. Or a doorstop. Just saying I’m here for the people.

There is much going on in our world. It’s difficult to say what people, plants and animals, all sentient beings, are suffering most. Kinda hard to put that on a scale. Most people, including myself, have not yet been subjected to the wars, famine and political crises we Indigenous people have survived. And we ain’t going anywhere else. You all go back to your own countries of origin, and do plz write.

I’m really tired. Most of these European immigrants are fighting over and devastating OUR Turtle Island for temporary profits, which is how they determine their status in this greedy, global and unholy world. We’re here to love one another.

In no way am I gonna point out or screech about world events that are happening right now. My body shut down after too much trauma and I slept 14 hours in grief and horror at what humans do to each other. I pray we can all agree to share our blessings whatever they may be. All I have is my writing and the hope that someone, anyone, will say, “Hah.” And then seriously contemplate what they just read.

Ayy!!! I’m still so naive! Still, if I ever made a connection to any of my readers who are now in the second generation, chii miigwech! I appreciate that as an older Antie, you have my love and attention.

Your generation, and those after, will see what you all did for Indian Country. Sing, dance and make our Mother happy. I have good hopes for y’all. Make all the Anties proud!
As for myself, I am unable to dance in the circle but I can still powwow-chair boogie! There is only one powwow I will be at and that is the Fond du Lac Veterans Powwow this July 8-10 in Sawyer, MN. No. No one asked me for a promotion; it’s that I know a lot of the FdL veterans and I admire them. They all deserve recognition. AND…I have stories on a few of them so they better be nice to me!

Two years ago on July 4 I was on my back ‘porch’ when Purrince escaped outside. A year before, his brother died after being hit by a vehicle. So no one was gonna go out again. I, all wobbly, went to rescue Purrince and almost scruffed him when I put my left foot down and it shattered. I yelled for help but got no reply.

I was wearing a camisole and undies because it was so hot but I was able to boot-scoot my way up the stairs (without getting splinters) and into the house where my phone was.
So yeah, I don’t celebrate being overrun by those whom our eastern relatives kept alive only to turn on us.

My dogs and I will be hiding under the covers from a fake holiday. Y’all do what you do, just wake up.