Article voiceover
All the Indians swam in Benjamin Lake when they wanted to swim. It was a wild community pool. Dragonflies & cattails were the lifeguards. But nobody swims there anymore. Green algae has claimed the lake. You might believe that Indians have a special relationship with nature but it rebuffs us, too. I didn't know how to swim when I was a kid. I was afraid of water. I'd inherited my mother's hydrophobia. She & I would sit on the dock as all the other Indians swam in endless patterns. I was part of the tribe & not part of the tribe. I learned how to swim just a few years ago at the YWCA during a class for adults. Four of my classmates told stories about how they almost drowned during their childhoods. One man did drown but they brought him back to life. My classmates were courageous in the water. I suppose I was courageous, too, but I don't get to define that. Or maybe I do. My therapist ordered me to take swimming lessons because drowning has long been part of my suicidal ideation. So, now, I can stay afloat long enough to change my mind about dying. And I'm damn sure that I would change my mind about dying. I'm going to die of natural causes, you see, because dying of natural causes is an enormous victory for all the Indian boys and girls like you & you & you & you & you & me.
Ah, you swim in very deep water, Sherman. This poem feels true-to-your-life. If it is, congratulations on learning to swim long enough to change your mind!
Go on living and loving and writing, please!!!!
About the algae in Benjamin Lake -- there's a wonderful trick coming from English farm ponds -- barley straw. If you float some in a net bag in the water, as bit decomposes it releases dilute hydrogen peroxide. Good for fishes and bugs, but stops algae from reproducing. Honest! Water treatment plants use this stuff now.
That poem felt brave.
I want to be one of the Indian girl that dies of natural causes.