Day Seventeen – With Sweaty Hands
I am awake, I am alive, and this morning, I have a question for you …
When is the last time you were shaking, your hands sweating, your heart racing a hundred miles an hour because you were about to speak, you were about to say something that may not be accepted or even understood yet something that needs to be said for the sake of your future, your comfort, your mental and physical well-being?
When is the last time you were in that situation, where to speak is terrifying but not as terrifying as what will happen to you if you don’t?
Welcome to the Indigenous reality. Welcome to the conversations we are forced to have almost daily. Welcome to what it feels like to confront a bully, to call-out a racist comment, to disagree with a post, to stand up for who you and your family are.
Indigenous youth are diagnosed with anxiety and depression to levels never recorded before (different than never experienced before) and doctors in white coats and suits ask why, all the while never having to give such a speech, never daring to face the stress their patients feel every time they are asked to describe what is going on in their world.
And worse, this type of situation, requiring a response that comes with that level of stress, is so common that many do not even recognize it as the source of their stress. They have accepted that this is what conversations with whites look like, what living in white communities feels like, what being forced to live on a land THEY call Canada is like.
Even though, deep inside, we know this is our land, our Mother, even as others try to rip us away from her like they always do to Indigenous children and their Moms.
The journey continues but today, before you ask the question, perhaps consider the level of stress that may be involved with providing you with an answer. Perhaps you should hit Google instead. Google doesn’t stress.
Food for thought.
I love you!
#ibelieveinyou #ibelieveinme #icreatespace #celebrateandsurvive #repairingfeathers