The hatred of the mother hurts her daughter as well as the young man. But the daughter will have to figure that out. It is the burden of successive generations to see through the prejudices of their own families, and move on the better for it.
Had to do another explainer with my cunty dog trainer yesterday morning. White supremacy, especially coming from a hypocritical liberal is so exhaustive. And no, I won't engage in cunty pissing contests with my service dog, thank very much. Bitch.
Jesus had anger issues. Can you imagine all that magnanimity chasing you down into a corner and beating your ass with a whip? What a surprise that must have been.
Very poignant and powerful, and with a little wry humour too. One of the benefits of aging is becoming a but wiser and more understanding. Like Oscar Wilde said, youth is wasted on the young. Doesn't exonerate the mother though.
Anger being totally justified, but the question of where it is appropriate to direct it...
Maybe your girlfriend's mother imagined her whiteness being a focus for anger on the rez rather than her getting to know your family and friends and origins? Breaking down some walls by talking and laughing.rather than othering.
In my country we have Māori people who also have Pakeha (white) ancestry. Also: Chinese/Spanish/Indian/Jewish etc etc.
We don't have blood quantum rules.
Historically, marriages between tribes strengthened alliances. Some of our people won't look outside our culture for a partner. That's understandable.
Very powerful. Anger is a very complicated emotion. These decades later, you understand that the mother was not completely wrong... and is this understanding also helped by some amount of anger that has accumulated in you, aimed at the mother who would not allow her daughter to visit the reservation? Maybe, like an echo that reverberates back and forth, the mother's act of forbidding stoked the anger even more, an anger which the mother had recognized, and had anticipated, and had made her want to protect her daughter from an anger that she herself, the mother, had helped stoke.
Many years ago, while in Santa Fe, I played hooky from a conference I was attending, and spent a few hours at the Native American Art Museum. I saw a sculpture there that I will never forget. It was screaming with rage. I couldn't tear myself away from it. I kept going around to look at beautiful rugs and paintings and other wonderful things, all of which I have by now completely forgotten, and then returning again and again to the room with the sculpture. I think the artist was a student. I never wrote down his name. I have only a vague recollection of anything else in the museum (or at the conference), but this powerful sculpture that had burst out of an art student is etched in my memory.
This is a quote from James Baldwin, it's exactly this:
“You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, who had ever been alive.”
The hatred of the mother hurts her daughter as well as the young man. But the daughter will have to figure that out. It is the burden of successive generations to see through the prejudices of their own families, and move on the better for it.
Yup
In AA they say: Anger is sadness in a leather jacket.
Wondering if the adjective you added was “completely” (first guess). Or was it “angry”? You had me thinking about your editing process.
It was "angry"
Love that change! Thanks for sharing.
Thanks
Oh Yeah!
Had to do another explainer with my cunty dog trainer yesterday morning. White supremacy, especially coming from a hypocritical liberal is so exhaustive. And no, I won't engage in cunty pissing contests with my service dog, thank very much. Bitch.
Jesus had anger issues. Can you imagine all that magnanimity chasing you down into a corner and beating your ass with a whip? What a surprise that must have been.
I’m half Cree. This breaks my heart. ❤️
Very poignant and powerful, and with a little wry humour too. One of the benefits of aging is becoming a but wiser and more understanding. Like Oscar Wilde said, youth is wasted on the young. Doesn't exonerate the mother though.
True, and for good reason
I'm married to a Native American woman but from a different tribe. I've taken to referring to our marriage as being Native Orthodoxy.
Classic!
Poignant poem. All kinds of echoes.
Anger being totally justified, but the question of where it is appropriate to direct it...
Maybe your girlfriend's mother imagined her whiteness being a focus for anger on the rez rather than her getting to know your family and friends and origins? Breaking down some walls by talking and laughing.rather than othering.
In my country we have Māori people who also have Pakeha (white) ancestry. Also: Chinese/Spanish/Indian/Jewish etc etc.
We don't have blood quantum rules.
Historically, marriages between tribes strengthened alliances. Some of our people won't look outside our culture for a partner. That's understandable.
But her racism isn't just an acknowledgement, it's also a cause.
💔
Hmmm
Very powerful. Anger is a very complicated emotion. These decades later, you understand that the mother was not completely wrong... and is this understanding also helped by some amount of anger that has accumulated in you, aimed at the mother who would not allow her daughter to visit the reservation? Maybe, like an echo that reverberates back and forth, the mother's act of forbidding stoked the anger even more, an anger which the mother had recognized, and had anticipated, and had made her want to protect her daughter from an anger that she herself, the mother, had helped stoke.
You have me looking in the mirror!
you might notice me in that same mirror too.
Many years ago, while in Santa Fe, I played hooky from a conference I was attending, and spent a few hours at the Native American Art Museum. I saw a sculpture there that I will never forget. It was screaming with rage. I couldn't tear myself away from it. I kept going around to look at beautiful rugs and paintings and other wonderful things, all of which I have by now completely forgotten, and then returning again and again to the room with the sculpture. I think the artist was a student. I never wrote down his name. I have only a vague recollection of anything else in the museum (or at the conference), but this powerful sculpture that had burst out of an art student is etched in my memory.
Yeah, I often have th same reaction with art in general.
This is a quote from James Baldwin, it's exactly this:
“You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read. It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, who had ever been alive.”