Friday, November 27, 2009

To the Indigenous People of Turtle Island

Today I am Contemplating the true meaning of "Thanksgiving" and I must say, that it makes me sad. Today, I ask the ancient ancestors of this Turtle Island to forgive us. We walk upon this land and barely remember why we are here or even how we got here.
Too often the Holocaust of the Indigenous people is forgotten. Imagine, in removing them to reservations and taking their land, we have build many edifices over their graves. I say we, because as an African descendant, I too, partake of this travesty. So, while I am a product of the African Holocaust, I sometimes get so wrapped up in what happened to my Ancestors, I am distracted from what happened to the Ancestors of those who are here now. Living on reservations in a subhuman reality.

I am inclined to explore the true meaning of this day. I am inclined to wonder how the true original people feel on this day. I am inclined to wonder what it must feel like for them to see the revelry and disconnect that happens when people here, celebrate on the backs of those who were masqueraded.

Can it be an indictment on man's ability to be inhumane to other men?
This culture will go to bat for the saving of the environment, endangered species, the mountains, hills and streams they call America, and yet, how often do they include the most horrendous crime, the annihilation of a people who lived here before the European came.

No longer can we claim it is the lack of knowledge that keeps us ingrained in old behaviors and old traditions. The world is a market place of information. There is no excuse that can convey any substantial belief that this holiday is anything but a mockery. Giving thanks should be a daily ritual, and if a day must be chosen, why not make it more authentic, by choosing a day that does not ignore the hurt, pain and destitution of the first inhabitants of Turtle Island. Giving in to the status quo of it is a "holiday" so let's party and eat until we burst shows the gluttonous adventure this holiday has become.

Why we may not see them in the flesh, the Ancestors of Turtle Island are watching our clear and poignant refusal to admit what really happened here. These Ancestors have surely bore the brunt of incessant annihilation with the uprooting of their sacred burial grounds; the destruction of their sacred forest, rivers and streams, the killing off of their food supply and the sickening of their family members with all manner of disease and modern day corruption; as the strangling members left of these tribes; are sucked into the marketplace of casinos and casino revenue that barely if at all enhances or uplift the quality of life of the ordinary indigenous person.

This is my tribute. This is my reparations. This is my mourning. I beg forgiveness for any thought, word, action or deed that may have insulted the Ancestors of the Indigenous People of Turtle Island. If I have done so in ignorance, I ask that you allow me to have my eyes opened to see the truth. I feel you have helped me already, as I researched articles on the internet and information about your story. This is my contribution, a humble gift of my time, and a simple example of the contrition I propose to give, in spirit, in light and in love.

To those who take the time to read this, please, by all means, review these links.