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It Ain't Easy Being Indian: July 2015

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riceywild-web.jpg If you were to ask me if I am an

environmentalist I would shout, “Ooonh YAH!!! You betcha!” and I

would describe my almost OCD passion for recycling, my disgust for

all GMO products and my mission against Monsanto. I want to eat

‘clean’ because I already have enough miseries in my life to just

passively accept more unwanted poisons. If you’re on my Facebook

friends list you know I compulsively post everything

anti-environmental because Someone, Someone somewhere may not have

seen it. Plus we are bombarded with lies about the proposed KXL

pipelines that completely annihilate the environment and yet with

every new oil leak or spill we are told the whole process is

completely safe.

When I was a kid about 12-13 years old

I began learning the true history of this Turtle Island of ours and

the atrocities being committed upon our Mother. I raged and cried; I

stomped around uttering awful deaths for the people who were

responsible for the degradation, knowingly destroying our Mother for

material wealth. I told my mother I wanted to “go back to the

blanket” which is a euphemism (I think) for Indians who just got

sick of the white man’s alleged ‘civilization’ and went back to

the old ways of being and living in accord with Turtle Island and

continue the gifts of wisdom and respect down to our descendants and

theirs.

So the Gal’s and I went a’campin

by a lake in the north woods very far from the big city lights.

Melissa had posted she was bringing the coffee maker and my brain did

a little “huh?” Then I thought she meant a percolator. I wanted

to listen to music while we were out there asked if someone had a

boom box. Denise did so it was cool. I figured we would need to buy

some batteries. Turns out the campsite was wired up with GASP!

outlets for electric stuff!!! I admit now being completely astounded

but didn’t say anything at the time. I was just glad I could charge

up my phone. Turns out the campground had bathrooms, showers and

laundry too. Not very hard core ennit?

Our camp was on a little peninsula and

in very close proximity to campers who were already there. I thought

it a bit weird because I was used to powwow campgrounds and setting

up tents near family or friends. We got our own space though with

creative blocking and all the big work was done by my friends because

I was sadly inept and kept getting in the way. Later we put on Bob

Marley and 10 minutes later a park ranger told us to turn it off cuz

people were trying to sleep. I don’t know how well that worked out

for our neighbors because we snort-laughed most of the night talking,

yelling and telling stories. Betcha Bob sounds better than that now,

ay?

There were hundreds of large dragon

flies above us the whole night so the mosquitoes weren’t too bad

and loons were calling from across the lake. It was a magic night for

good magic; we sacrificed some bloated gummy bears to rid ourselves

of a common evil spirit and formed our first steps for a coven. 😉

Melissa scorched up some hot dogs I passed on those but when it came

time for S’mores I couldn’t find the skewers I brought for

roasting marshmallows. We ended up eating them Paleo-style as Denise

said; raw. Later while sitting alone I realized we had packed all the

creature comfort contents of our homes plunked it down on the ground

and called it camping. Which is fine by me this I can handle…! No

more Extreme Camping for me thank you had enough for this life.

Sitting there more thoughts came to

me. That if 92% of people like outdoor activities so why are they not

supporting or standing up for this earth of ours? Don’t they want

to come back year after year to enjoy it? My answer is most people

take our Mother for granted and that there will always be someone

else to save the earth. Green Peace maybe or the guy down the road

who attends green rallies let him and his kind do it.

Well I never did go back to that

blanket, my mother said to me that I wouldn’t last a day out there

which was true; my inborn Indian skills in the woods must’ve got

put in the wrong dna folder. I have other skills though; I can write,

I can call, I can demonstrate, I can join others who are activists

and there may just be a chance, a small chance together we can put a

stop to the gutting and killing Our Mother. Get it out there that we

humans need her; she doesn’t need us.

This reporting is made possible by readers like you.

The Circle is a nonprofit newsroom with no tribal affiliation, no corporate ownership, and no paywall. Independent Native journalism depends on reader support.

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