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Yelling at Clouds's avatar

Please never stop breaking my heart.

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Kristi JD's avatar

Living on the periphery of the reservation I grew up on, I am - for the first time - aware of missing and murdered women and men. Both current - and dates of departure that go back decades; the families who still painfully search.

When I drive to my childhood home to assist my aged parents, I see the human wreckage. Lives housed in tarped-over cardboard boxes, those who panhandle from car-to-car at Dairy Queen. Those who wander aimlessly. I see the raw cultural wounds and feel a sense of the immense loss. Decades ago, I departed for a life as a teacher - now, in retirement, I unexpectedly find myself the student: the place I once longed to see in my rear view mirror, the place I said I would never return to perhaps my most important classroom. This dirt, these people, this time.

Thank you, Sherman, for being a companion on my journey to know and understand.

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