Monday, March 23
I dreamed of Wounded Knee the other night.
Babes wailed in their mothers' arms as women, children, all fled over the barren hills the color of straw and white man's flesh. Flashes of white light streaked against a red sky as bodies fell around me. Explosions from old-fashioned guns rang in my ears, piercing through the smoke and the haze that barely concealed the backs of retreating men. And the screams, the screams...
I awoke with a start, the cries of the warriors and the innocents echoing in the darkness of my bedroom. The joints in my body ached, as if I had spent the evening on the ground of the earth. Lying where I fell...
I rolled out from under my covers and walked the four yards to my bathroom. The countdown before the start of the day had begun, and it was time to begin the monotonous process of getting ready for work. Welcome to Friday.
Life has been easy since I came home from the Rez. I can feel my toes, I can feel my hands, I can move where ever I please and when I have the desire to eat, I get in my car and drive to the store.
Describing my experiences to others has been a challenge. Tom warned us of this before he sent us home.
"Why don't they just...?" he told us they'd ask. And they have. "Why don't they just go to college? It's free, right?" "What about a casino?" "Why not wind turbines?" Or my favorite, "Why don't they just leave the reservation and get a job?"
You've been fed propaganda, Lisa.
Exaggerations.
Lies.
I can see the disbelief on their faces hidden behind polite, well-mannered interest. Worse yet, for others, the ones who do believe, there's a sense of hopeless, of impotent outrage. I feel it, too. What can I do about it now? What can any of us do?
There's a blizzard in South Dakota today. Pine Ridge seems to have escaped the brunt of it - only ice pellets, North West winds of up to 40 mph, light snow, sleet and occasional thunderstorms. The blizzard watch should only be in effect for another hour or so, and the 8 inches predicted for the rest of the week is very different from the 30 inches being seen in other parts of the state. But I can feel my heart ache as my palms begin to sweat. The threat of a blizzard means so much more to those without heat, without blankets or even a passable road to get to the grocery store. Even a tipi with a fire in its center would be better than a double-wide with no windows. What can any of us do?
God bless those out on the reservation.
Site of Wounded Knee
Photo by Brad Roland
Photo by Thomas Dilena
Photo by Thomas Dilena
Photo by Thomas Dilena
Babes wailed in their mothers' arms as women, children, all fled over the barren hills the color of straw and white man's flesh. Flashes of white light streaked against a red sky as bodies fell around me. Explosions from old-fashioned guns rang in my ears, piercing through the smoke and the haze that barely concealed the backs of retreating men. And the screams, the screams...
I awoke with a start, the cries of the warriors and the innocents echoing in the darkness of my bedroom. The joints in my body ached, as if I had spent the evening on the ground of the earth. Lying where I fell...
I rolled out from under my covers and walked the four yards to my bathroom. The countdown before the start of the day had begun, and it was time to begin the monotonous process of getting ready for work. Welcome to Friday.
Life has been easy since I came home from the Rez. I can feel my toes, I can feel my hands, I can move where ever I please and when I have the desire to eat, I get in my car and drive to the store.
Describing my experiences to others has been a challenge. Tom warned us of this before he sent us home.
"Why don't they just...?" he told us they'd ask. And they have. "Why don't they just go to college? It's free, right?" "What about a casino?" "Why not wind turbines?" Or my favorite, "Why don't they just leave the reservation and get a job?"
You've been fed propaganda, Lisa.
Exaggerations.
Lies.
I can see the disbelief on their faces hidden behind polite, well-mannered interest. Worse yet, for others, the ones who do believe, there's a sense of hopeless, of impotent outrage. I feel it, too. What can I do about it now? What can any of us do?
There's a blizzard in South Dakota today. Pine Ridge seems to have escaped the brunt of it - only ice pellets, North West winds of up to 40 mph, light snow, sleet and occasional thunderstorms. The blizzard watch should only be in effect for another hour or so, and the 8 inches predicted for the rest of the week is very different from the 30 inches being seen in other parts of the state. But I can feel my heart ache as my palms begin to sweat. The threat of a blizzard means so much more to those without heat, without blankets or even a passable road to get to the grocery store. Even a tipi with a fire in its center would be better than a double-wide with no windows. What can any of us do?
God bless those out on the reservation.
Site of Wounded Knee
Photo by Brad Roland
Photo by Thomas Dilena
Photo by Thomas Dilena
Photo by Thomas Dilena
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