Day Eighty – A Memory and a Magic Wand (Black Lives Matter)

 

I am awake, I am alive, and yes it is Tuesday and yes, I will release a “Teaching Tuesday” video soon but first I wanted to share with you a story that could most easily be called – A Memory and a Magic Wand.

First the memory …

We were clubbing, my Bestie and I. It was something we liked to do – dress up fine and go dancing. And we were in our fav venue to do just that. We danced and we mingled and that is when we met them.

They were handsome, fine, black men observing the crowd in the way so many in a club do. My Bestie knew one of the men so they were chatting and that is when the second noticed my arm tat.

“You native?” was all he said, perhaps because he’s the blunt type, perhaps because of the decibel level of the dance music.

I nodded affirmatively and instantaneously he reached out to shake my hand. Confused, I accepted as he went on to explain, “No one gets treated worse than you guys, not even us.”

I think of him in these days of violence and anti-Black insanity. I pray he is well, even though I am sure he has his own stories to tell.

Which brings us to my magic wand …

I wish I could wave a magic wand because if I could all those people who feel the need to type or say “All Lives Matter” every chance they get would finally realize that is the exact point that the phrase “Black Lives Matter” is attempting to make. That all lives do matter but that the Western world has never EVER acted like black lives do, not when it is dangerous to “drive black”, “shop black”, “dance black” or Gawd forbid be seen as black. Not acknowledging that is a HUGE part of the problem so with my wand I would make sure that the phrase “All Lives Matter” could never be used again until the actions of our countries show they do.

And with my magic wand, I would cast a spell on my indigenous brothers and sisters, those who do not understand why we must now stand with our Black brothers and sisters. I would remind them that we are one of the few groups that truly understand what it is like to be Black in Canada and the U.S. for we feel endure the same hatred, the same judgement, the same violence. We can understand without them having to explain and just like it is a breath of fresh air to be among our own, to be among those who “get it”, we must now be that breath for our black brothers and sisters, the one’s whose very breath is now at risk.

I would wave that wand so that my indigenous brothers and sisters are reminded of our own teachings, how we teach others how to treat us, how if we cannot stand in support when our brothers and sisters are attacked, we cannot in turn expect others to stand in support of us when again it is us slaughtered on the front pages.

I would wave my wand and spin in circles, spin and spin until I was dizzy, spin and spin until Black and indigenous and newcomer and settler were all safe and valued. Like the Medicine Wheel or the Coat of Many Colours, I would spin until the world recognizes the beauty of differences without the need to try to make us “all the same (race)”.

Today, I remember a man in a club. Today, I pray with smudge and feather for I find them more effective than a magic wand (at least in my hands). Today, I pray we rise above what has been done to us, I pray we remember we are warriors and that we now we have the power to assist in the saving of another. That alone should be reason enough to do just that because that is what a warrior does.

And to our white brothers and sisters who are putting signs on lawns, sharing stories that highlight the racism against BIPOC (black, indigenous, people of colour), thank you for reminding me of the reason why Creator didn’t give us magic wands.

He didn’t because he knew we have the power to fix this, without wands. All it takes is the will, the choice, and the guts to speak up and say “NOT ON OUR LAND! HERE BLACK LIVES MATTER!”

And when the dust settles, I have no doubt our black brothers and sisters will once again stand with us as they always have, as we remind the world that indigenous lives matter too, as much as any white life ever has. Because all lives do matter which is why now we must scream …

“BLACK LIVES MATTER!”

Join me, please.

 

I love you! HUGSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Sandi