formal evening party wears

I was going to write a long essay about how hate only breeds hate, and that we need to learn from the past instead of repeating it, but you know what? The more I wrote, the more I realized I have hate in my heart too.

I started to write about how even though the justice system is stacked in favor of Whites, we need to be the ones to finally change it. Writing made me think about Colten Boushie. About Sarah Lee Circle Bear. About Sandra Bland. About Freddie Gray. And then I thought about how impossible it seems to change a system that hardly sees us as people, so I deleted everything I had written and stared at my screen. formal evening party wears

I thought about how hypocritical I am for rolling my eyes and making fun of the groups of White people who come into my store. I make fun of the way they talk, the way they all dress alike, and the what they all buy to drink. I mock them mercilessly when they're gone and sometimes even to their faces, then turn around and rage on Facebook when someone says White people are all stupid.

The Native me says, "Fuck those yonegs. Fuck them and everything they stand for. They're all the fucking same."

The White me says, "But... I'm a yoneg too. Without colonialism, I wouldn't exist. Why do people think we're ALL bad?"

I can't reconcile these two parts of me in my head sometimes, and I feel like I have to choose to be one thing or the other. Most days, I do make a choice. Red over White. I rage about the shit that's been done to us. I get angry that my ancestors were driven from their homes so that White people could have their land.

Then I remember that I'm White too. I didn't ask to be White any more than I asked to be Native, and neither did anyone else. We're who we are because of sheer dumb luck. It's what we make of what we're given that we're judged on, fairly or unfairly.

I guess what I'm saying is, I get it. I understand it. I feel it too. I want to hate the White man for all this shit, but I came from a White man just as much as I came from a Native woman. And it hurts my heart to know that some people hate him for what he is the same way it hurts my heart that some people hated my mother for what she was.