Day Twenty-Three – I’m Mad

I am awake, I am alive and yesterday, I realized … I’m mad at you. Although I am not really sure who “you” is …

Settlers long dead?
Descendants of settlers, also dead?
Their descendants, born into a life of freedom and choice, paid for by mine?

It’s easier to identify why I’m mad.

I am mad that the world created for me to grew up in made me think I was “dirty”, somehow less than, somehow not as attractive because I am Anishinaabekwe.

I am mad that I ever had to deal with ignorant young boys who thought they could touch my body parts, without even bothering to ask, because I am Anishinaabekwe.

I am mad that as a teenager, when some nice guy asked me out, I had to ask myself if it was because he thought I was easy, because I am Anishinaabekwe.

I am mad that I felt SO OVERWHELMINGLY THANKFUL when someone did fall in love with me, like somehow, I had achieved the impossible.

I am mad that even though I was STRAIGHT A’s all the way from kindergarten to high school graduation, that I never once contemplated actually going to university. Even though all my teachers said I should, because I thought only white kids fit in there, rich white kids.

I am mad that I put up with WAY too many racial insults, accepting them and the people throwing them as “just the way people are”.

I am mad that I wasted half my life BUYING THIS B.S.!

And I am mad that so many of you have done same, buying into the stereotypes that limited my life for far too long.

I am mad and I just wanted to acknowledge that because I think it is healthy to do that. And because I believe what I and so many other Kwe had to put up with deserves anger.

It sure doesn’t deserve acceptance.

The journey continues so that my daughter and granddaughter won’t realize one day that they too are mad …

I love you.

#ibelieveinyou #ibelieveinme #icreatespace #celebrateandsurvive #repairingfeathers