Day: July 10, 2021

It’s the 10^th of July now and all the booming of fireworks being set off and voices of ahh, and wow are silent. The voice of racism isn’t and it’s still trying to spark and set off a big boom.

The flag is even racist but I do wonder if the flag knows this or does it even feel like it is?

Hmm?

Native people for most of the country’s history have had to struggle to be recognized. This still didn’t stop them from serving in the military and some with distinction. So, what do Indians think about the flag and patriotism?

I don’t know! I can only speak for myself.

It is true that we lost the wars for the right to live on the land. The land that was considered too good for the Indian since he didn’t farm. Nor raise cattle or cut timber for building projects. Neither did he look for the shiny yellow stuff called gold! A lust for it that drove people crazy.

We do have treaties that recognize the land rights, uhh somewhat.

It is true we were not a party to the founding of America nor did we fight for Independence from merry old stuffy England. We had no need for that since England was not our homeland. Nor was France or Spain.

Some natives did join the fight while others fought for the other side. Independence was misplaced idea to them as it pertained to the colonials.

With this being said let us look at where we are today.

This country whether it is right or wrong is still our country even more so when you think about it. We are native to this country whether you call it America or something else.  People were asked to name a country better than the United States, they couldn’t.

With all its’ problems between native people, colonists, and slaves:  it still is a better place to live. We do have certain inalienable rights endowed to us by our creator. I was educated by it and earned a living in it, and enjoy the freedom to travel in it.

I have made friends of different races or nationalities if you will. Served in the military. Write articles about the problems because of freedom of speech. I read different parts of history some good others really dark and terrible all because of the freedom of the press.

I can vote, marry any race whether it be red, black, yellow, or white. Providing she likes me enough and wants to marry me.

There are many things that are good about this country, along with bad ones too. the bad come from misunderstanding about what is right for you.

If natives thought about what might have been if other countries had won the wars where would we be? If the Nazis had won the war, would we be here?

Am I patriotic? Up to a point then it’s just about the fireworks. When I was growing up the fourth just meant for us firecracker fights, bottle rocket fights, and roman candle fights! I don’t throw any firecrackers anymore after I almost blew my fingers up!

Them suckers have faster burning fuses and I’m not as fast as I used to be nearly 50 years ago!

So go ahead and talk bad about what’s wrong with this country! You do have that right. As for me I will stand and salute my fellow vets who gave and still give. I love this country I was born in and certainly don’t know where I would go to find a better place?

The flag it’s pretty neat red stripes for the shedding of blood for freedom. The white for peace we enjoy because of our strength. The stars for the different states and different groups of people. The blue for the heavens and the creator who blesses this country.

As the Hag sang “if you don’t love it, leave it!”

                                                                          Amen

Time has marched on and boarding schools have too. Some are boarded up and no longer inhabitable. Memories are fading but not all is forgotten as some have written of their experiences. We need to read about it so we can grieve with them and never let it happen again.

As I wrote of before, my time wasn’t like what I’ve read and heard about. In the book of Judges, it says “and another generation arose who knew not God, nor yet the works he did for Israel.”

This verse tells us that the past is easily forgotten; even by those who lived it. They don’t pass it on or it becomes just tales told around the table every now and then. To some the stories become unbelievable and get pushed aside.

The people of Israel stopped listening after another generation grew up. Times change and peoples’ priorities do too. we lose so much with each generation that it is almost impossible to recapture those lost memories.

I have shared some and will do so now. I had good teachers who wanted for me to learn and do more but I was lazy. My memory of the residence halls was good and the dorm staff was friendly.

Aside from the creative writing class of the last time my English class turned out quite differently. So here is my story once again it is true just a hint of embellishment!

Thank God for dictionaries so I know what it means!

                                      English Class

     Omigosh, it’s my senior year and time for that dreaded English thesis!  Mrs. Ewing my English teacher tells me she will pass me if I can turn my thesis in. This critter called English hasn’t been my best or even remotely my favorite subject. It has really been quite a struggle for me to even get through grade school, let alone four years of high school. I’ve been pretty much a C minus student. On top of that maybe some generous teachers too.

      I wasted time daydreaming during class nouns, verbs, conjunctions, prepositions and something about a dangling part of an icicle. I had been told that there were only seven major parts of speech but they seemed to keep adding to this number.

     Here I am now needing this course to graduate. The others classes posed no problem there, but, only English stands in my way. She’s given the class three weeks to get it done and turned in. The best part about it is that we can go to the library during class time to do some research. Plus, the librarian is not bad to look at.

     The first week I mess around the hallways and make an appearance in the library every now and then. I visit my locker making it look like I’m busy with getting something out of it. I’ve had the same one for four years now and know the combination by heart. All of my books are still in it I don’t carry but a couple to class anyway. Mainly to look like I’m interested or need it to follow along. My bud Phillip kept some of his books in my locker too, he was too lazy to open his own. He graduated and has been gone for a year now. Still somethings don’t change I have someone else’s books in mine.

      You don’t think much about school until, you been out for some time. Even then it’s what if and why? I think now about why? Why didn’t I ever get a locker near some of the pretty girls in our school? All I got was one near a group of ugly guys.

      The following week and I showed up for class and Mrs. Ewing questions me, “where I’m at with my thesis?” I stammer out I’ve got it started and working really hard on it. The very next question is “what is it you’re writing about?” Now I’m stuck for an answer because I don’t have a topic in mind. Thinking quickly, I blurt out it’s on Abraham Lincoln!

      That satisfies her for the moment.  The moment of reckoning about graduation being only a couple of weeks away is fast approaching.

      In between my other classes I spend more time in the library reading up on old Abe. He’s been my hero since I first read about his life story. I grew up poor too, living in a log cabin, having a kerosene lamp for light. Yes, there were some parallels.

      I don’t think I’ll ever be a Lawyer or President certainly not, if I can’t get this thesis finished and turned in before graduation. 

      I’m down to a week and days but reading like crazy and trying to write something coherent. Something I still struggle with to this day. I tell people that English is my second language since I’m a Cherokee Indian. That’s my excuse.

     We’re practicing for graduation and I’m running back and forth to the library. My other classmates have finished and they’ve even typed theirs! I didn’t take typing class thought it was too much of a sissy class. Me being an athlete an all. Now I wish I had taken it. I’m too embarrassed to ask for help from anyone. I’m not sure if they would’ve helped me out anyway. I get some typing paper and print my thesis.

     I turn it in with a week to go and mighty relieved to be done with it too. Sooo, how did I do? Well, I did graduate.

    I went in a few days later to look at my grade and see how bad it had gotten marked up. Mrs. Ewing was in the classroom when I walked in. She turned and pointed to the stack on bottom shelf where all of our thesis’s lay.

     I found mine and it looked like it had been in a bad accident.  It seemed to have bled pretty badly with all the red marks on it. The grade though was there in all its glory a big beautiful D minus. I had passed Glory be a big red D minus!

     Mrs. Ewing did say that had I typed it, I’d would have gotten a better grade. She went on to tell me that I had done a good job on it.

     A better grade?  At that time all I worried about was passing and that D minus looked like an A to me!

     Writing is hard work especially when one struggles with punctuation. Then there is sentence structure.

     My wife once said “that most of my sentences, are run-on sentences just way too long.”

     I told her, well, it’s because I just have a lot to say!

Maybe I should have typed it. I might even have gotten a D plus.

My boarding school experience not too bad. No one to blame. It was what I made of it.