I grew up in Pocatello. I’m surprised that many people in Idaho *didn’t* vote for Trump last time. My mother taught English at ISU, and she and her friends (and mine) were liberal. I didn’t talk politics much.
This so powerful. Heartbreaking and courageous and clear. What kind of world are we creating when anyone feels afraid of people whom they love?
Racism strikes a nerve in me that will never not be raw. I was a 10-year old white girl when I moved to South Africa in the 70's. Old enough to know better and too young to do anything but witness. The racism I have experienced is only through this witnessing. But I believe every single word you write. I've seen it. Exactly as you write it, in this and in your other posts.
Thank you for writing. Thank you for not letting us close our eyes. And thank you most of all for always taking the conversation deeper, into the complexity and the pain, where real change can happen.
Yes. But she won the popular vote. And while I'm at it, DC should be granted statehood. Ok, I understand she lost. I guess I'm still grieving over tRump's win.
I bought a rubber tree. I was born on the last day of the Eisenhower administration. I remember my parents telling me about the Kennedy campaign jingle- "High Hopes" ("oops there goes another rubber tree plant)."
Deeper than I expected when I first started reading but you managed to climb out of the hole. It is sometimes hard to love the terrifying horses. And I believe more beautiful people should wear glasses.
I am thankful for the "Survey of Native American Literature" class I took 20+ years ago that introduced me to your work! You're an amazing storyteller!
I'm a Spokane resident, and met you at Auntie's bookstore years ago. A terrific experience!
How may I join, using my Paypal account? I'm not good at this "on-line" stuff. My credit card has been hacked three times, so now I only use Paypal "on-line".
I'm not in control of how the money works inside Substack. They're exploring other ways to pay, I think, but a credit card is the only option now. I'm sorry. 80% of my stuff is free here so you'll still be seeing a big percentage of stuff.
He sleeps not with horses.....I lived in the Moscow area from '72-81 & imagine that the equestrian events (4-H) were most likely held at the Latah County Fairgrounds, though, like you say, could have happened regionally, like Potatch to the north where they've had (still have) a rodeo for a few decades, or perhaps, Lewiston, to the south. I share your fear of horses, and feel somewhat validated by your account--I always felt guilty for being afraid of these noble but giant beasts, part of it being my name, Phillip meaning, Lover of Horses; and also being from farm families on both sides--my mother's side uncle raised & trained quarter horses, and another uncle had a retired racehorse who had two speeds, resting & full-tilt boogy. Scared me shitless the only time I rode him. Even though I rode a bunch in my younger years, I never got free of the anxiety around horses. It is a different kind of fear than that of my fear of other human-like beings. (a much more deserved fear).
When I see your emails in my list, I’ve learned I need to set them aside until I have the time and the emotional handwidth to deal with the emotions I’ll feel. This was another one. Thank you so much
I don’t know if the start of the comment to this comment got erased when your site bounced me off when I paused for a moment and requested I sign in again- someday I will write about how much easier things are not! with the internet age, but not today- Just wanted to add that my Puerto Rican son who bears the family name here in Oklahoma has always voted left as has his and his wife’s family and my 3 grandchildren feel the same, even though their daughter and son are voting for the first time in a presidential election and the youngest, who at sixteen still has a plan that involves becoming US president and believes he will fix everything( remember those days?) Nevertheless, at 79 I still believe that love never fails and am endeavoring to love all my neighbors in concrete ways that they can feel and expecting the best. No sense crying before we are hit. The earth has survived all the haters and destroyers and all we can do is keep loving people until the end. Thanks for sharing your beautiful heart with the world. We are all seen and known by our Creator. The plan still works, despite all our best and worst efforts. Peace, out.
Beautful piece, Sherman. Loved the writing and the ride. I feel you on the spidey sense when people you're around feel off. I loved how you drilled down on that one moment. It's funny what we remember and why. I recall vividly kissing Anne Griffin in Kindergarten. Never forgot it. She had cooties but I didn't care. I just wrote a chapter in my new ongoing novel about that moment, actually. Powerful.
My first kiss was Shelly on a merry go round on the rez—on the playground between the old school and Indian Health Service Clinic across the street from our 19th Century one-bedroom house where I was living with 12-16 relatives depending on time of year!
I grew up in Pocatello. I’m surprised that many people in Idaho *didn’t* vote for Trump last time. My mother taught English at ISU, and she and her friends (and mine) were liberal. I didn’t talk politics much.
Yes, the way this story, this truth ends... Powerful, and aching.
This so powerful. Heartbreaking and courageous and clear. What kind of world are we creating when anyone feels afraid of people whom they love?
Racism strikes a nerve in me that will never not be raw. I was a 10-year old white girl when I moved to South Africa in the 70's. Old enough to know better and too young to do anything but witness. The racism I have experienced is only through this witnessing. But I believe every single word you write. I've seen it. Exactly as you write it, in this and in your other posts.
Thank you for writing. Thank you for not letting us close our eyes. And thank you most of all for always taking the conversation deeper, into the complexity and the pain, where real change can happen.
James Comey's announcement about her email investigation was timed to hurt her.
Laverne and Shirley sing the Rubber Tree Plant song in one episode.
Well, regardless of the timing, there was still voting to be done. And she lost the vote. The October Surprise is a campaign tradition.
Yes. But she won the popular vote. And while I'm at it, DC should be granted statehood. Ok, I understand she lost. I guess I'm still grieving over tRump's win.
I bought a rubber tree. I was born on the last day of the Eisenhower administration. I remember my parents telling me about the Kennedy campaign jingle- "High Hopes" ("oops there goes another rubber tree plant)."
Deeper than I expected when I first started reading but you managed to climb out of the hole. It is sometimes hard to love the terrifying horses. And I believe more beautiful people should wear glasses.
Yeah, I feel guilty about my equinophobia, as well.
I want to thank you for your incredible writing. I look forward to more. You are extremely talented.
Thank you, Aryls!
I am thankful for the "Survey of Native American Literature" class I took 20+ years ago that introduced me to your work! You're an amazing storyteller!
Thank you, Kelly. I have been around for a long time!
“I want you to know that I’m afraid of some people whom I dearly love.” I felt this with every fiber of my being.
Thank you, Sarah.
I'm a Spokane resident, and met you at Auntie's bookstore years ago. A terrific experience!
How may I join, using my Paypal account? I'm not good at this "on-line" stuff. My credit card has been hacked three times, so now I only use Paypal "on-line".
I'm not in control of how the money works inside Substack. They're exploring other ways to pay, I think, but a credit card is the only option now. I'm sorry. 80% of my stuff is free here so you'll still be seeing a big percentage of stuff.
Thanks so much for your personal reply!
I wanted to PAY you for my reading privilege; writers don't live on air. As it is, most writers must have "day jobs", which is a dang shame!
I hope you have been able to be a full-time writer. Your works are read in schools all over the world, as well as by readers of all ages and cultures.
He sleeps not with horses.....I lived in the Moscow area from '72-81 & imagine that the equestrian events (4-H) were most likely held at the Latah County Fairgrounds, though, like you say, could have happened regionally, like Potatch to the north where they've had (still have) a rodeo for a few decades, or perhaps, Lewiston, to the south. I share your fear of horses, and feel somewhat validated by your account--I always felt guilty for being afraid of these noble but giant beasts, part of it being my name, Phillip meaning, Lover of Horses; and also being from farm families on both sides--my mother's side uncle raised & trained quarter horses, and another uncle had a retired racehorse who had two speeds, resting & full-tilt boogy. Scared me shitless the only time I rode him. Even though I rode a bunch in my younger years, I never got free of the anxiety around horses. It is a different kind of fear than that of my fear of other human-like beings. (a much more deserved fear).
There are always What it's or What would have happened if, love will win out every time
When I see your emails in my list, I’ve learned I need to set them aside until I have the time and the emotional handwidth to deal with the emotions I’ll feel. This was another one. Thank you so much
Thank you, Carol.
Love shatters ism's
?
I don’t know if the start of the comment to this comment got erased when your site bounced me off when I paused for a moment and requested I sign in again- someday I will write about how much easier things are not! with the internet age, but not today- Just wanted to add that my Puerto Rican son who bears the family name here in Oklahoma has always voted left as has his and his wife’s family and my 3 grandchildren feel the same, even though their daughter and son are voting for the first time in a presidential election and the youngest, who at sixteen still has a plan that involves becoming US president and believes he will fix everything( remember those days?) Nevertheless, at 79 I still believe that love never fails and am endeavoring to love all my neighbors in concrete ways that they can feel and expecting the best. No sense crying before we are hit. The earth has survived all the haters and destroyers and all we can do is keep loving people until the end. Thanks for sharing your beautiful heart with the world. We are all seen and known by our Creator. The plan still works, despite all our best and worst efforts. Peace, out.
Thank you, Kathy.
To love is to stand naked before the universe. And that can be a lonely, lonely place.
Yup
Beautful piece, Sherman. Loved the writing and the ride. I feel you on the spidey sense when people you're around feel off. I loved how you drilled down on that one moment. It's funny what we remember and why. I recall vividly kissing Anne Griffin in Kindergarten. Never forgot it. She had cooties but I didn't care. I just wrote a chapter in my new ongoing novel about that moment, actually. Powerful.
My first kiss was Shelly on a merry go round on the rez—on the playground between the old school and Indian Health Service Clinic across the street from our 19th Century one-bedroom house where I was living with 12-16 relatives depending on time of year!