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Where I was (at least part of it)

March 22, 2009 1 comment

I don’t think it matters precisely what it is that eventually pulls us to our history or roots although I like to think that at some point most of us do get drawn to it. When I look back at the span of about 12 years of my life it isn’t one certain situation or one certain time period that drew me to it; it’s been a bit of a steady march, if you will. That being said I can recall distinct legs of the march that did have a little more significance in relation to wanting to understand more.

I often have odd dreams (yes, I realize that odd dreams are not unique to just me) which initially are usually dismissed by me as irrelevant to everything. Some of them come back up though and appear to have more relevance as a result of some real life event or situation that happens later. A couple of weeks ago I had a dream in which Jen popped up…smack dab in the middle of accidental dreamy images/events completely unconnected to her. To be quite honest with exception of noticing it when I woke up the next morning, I didn’t give it a ton of thought. However today I once again ran across one of my favorite pictures of us and consequently cried for a while. The immedate connection was obvious to me; clearly it happens to be one of those times when I have some ‘dealing with it’ to do (to be clear I do not think that we ever truly get ‘done’ dealing with the death of a loved one; grief is weird and sometimes it will hide for a while but eventually I think we are reminded of it again and deal with it some more). There was another connection which at first wasn’t as immediately obvious to me.

I think it has been times of strife or sadness which, either purposely or coincidentally, have drawn me a little closer to wanting to ‘get’ part of where I came from. Thinking of both sides is a bit daunting so I started with Native American (there’s still Norwegian to go). In my perception of American culture (which is obviously not necessarily “correct”) when someone dies we usually have a ceremony to remember them right after their passing but don’t necessarily tend to continue to have ceremonies to remember people that aren’t here anymore. Some of us do and I have had personal experience with this but for the most part I don’t see that it’s necessarily an expected part of the culture to do so.

As of late I’ve been chatting more with an Uncle on my Dad’s side which alone is clearly awesome, but even better he has provided me with some starting points online to understanding more about that side of my culture. And I’ve actually been reading about it. For a very simplified narrative on our history courtesy of the ever dubious, Wikipedia:

The Ojibwa (also Ojibway or Ojibwe) or Chippewa (also Chippeway) is the largest group of Native Americans-First Nations north of Mexico, including Métis. They are the third largest in the United States, surpassed only by Cherokee and Navajo[citation needed]. They are equally divided between the United States and Canada. Because they were formerly located mainly around Sault Ste. Marie, (Sault Ste. Marie is where my people hail from!!!) at the outlet of Lake Superior, the French referred to them as Saulteurs. Ojibwa who subsequently moved to the prairie provinces of Canada have retained the name Saulteaux

As a major component group of the Anishinaabe peoples—which includes the Algonquin, Nipissing, Oji-Cree, Odawa and the Potawatomi—the Ojibwe peoples number over 56,440 in the U.S., living in an area stretching across the north from Michigan to Montana. Another 77,940 of main-line Ojibwa, 76,760 Saulteaux and 8,770 Mississaugas, in 125 bands, live in Canada, stretching from western Quebec to eastern British Columbia. They are known for their birch bark canoes, sacred birch bark scrolls, the use of cowrie shells, wild rice, copper points, and for their use of gun technology from the British to defeat and push back the Dakota nation of the Sioux (1745). (bold emphasis is mine)

Which is all fine and dandy but not effectively exciting in my opinion. The enchanting (at least to me) and most relevant (also at least to me) information comes from actual tribal members. According to Fred Harrington jiibaykwe (ghost suppers) are ceremonies that originated from when tribes would move the remains of loved ones from temporary to permanent burial grounds (link: religion, under funerals). On the same website, if you click on the link that says ‘ghost suppers’ more is revealed about the custom. What I took out of what I read is that it is to remember and honor others that have passed regardless of when. Additionally the same link also describes a custom on Halloween to remember those that have passed. In contrast, in American culture the custom on Halloween is to dress up children to go house to house and get candy which in relation seems (at least to me) to lack any spiritual meaning (but that is also my own judgment). If one does not have children and is of the mind to celebrate and intake spirits (or not) one dresses up and attends parties of various kinds. Also, in my own judgment to lack real meaning.

Maybe what I’m selfishly looking for is a means to remember people that I miss and are not here anymore in a way that I can perceive as not so sad (for example, not having to have it smack me in the face all of a sudden and spend a whole afternoon in tears but instead remember and deal with it in a way that honors them more and is less about me). (Is it possible that I have an ulterior motive to learning about my culture and if so is that bad?) But then that also means I’m continuing to attach the ultimate sadness to someone’s death all on my own when I could instead be attaching a different emotion to it. It’s all heady stuff to be quite sure and I’m not even sure I’m getting close to what it all really means.

On a sort of side note, but not really, if you were to check out the website and check under the ‘ethics’ link, specifically under “first philosophy, to women” you would find what (again sort of selfishly) touches my heart most about my culture. Word for word (part of it at least) would say the following:

The cycle of life for the woman is baby, girl, woman, and grandmother. These are the four directions of life. She has been given by natural-laws the ability to reproduce life. The most sacred of all things is life. Therefore, all men should treat her with dignity and respect. Never was it our way to harm her mentally or physically. Indian men were never abusers. We always treated our women with respect and understanding.

Yes, I get that nowadays (and obviously before-adays) this does not always happen. The important part of it is that culturally it was such that women were respected/honored and not abused which is in clear contrast to how ‘American’ culture began and how it sadly, often plays out today. On this note alone, if only we could go back a ways and start over. But at this point, as a woman that is part of this culture I am sort of obligated to go forward facilitating this idea whereas in certain situations before I allowed abuse in various forms. Not that I necessarily needed this information to carry this out in my life having been through it before, but having the knowledge and caring about it just makes it that more important to me.

Thanks Jen, for a lot of things.  scan0001

 

 

I was sorely disappointed when I watched the news this evening for the first time in a long time

January 16, 2008 Leave a comment

I probably had it correct with just not watching popular news and obtaining it through my own means (qualiy news, that is). Oh well. I had a good run. I just have to start it over is all.

It sort of started with a boo-hoo story about how "girls" are more likely to get into college because…they do better:

By the time college admissions come into the picture, many watchers of the "boy gap" agree, it’s too late for the lads to catch up on their own. Indeed, beginning in those formative K-12 years, girls watch less television, spend less time playing sports, and are far less likely to find themselves in detention. They are more likely to participate in drama, art, and music classes—extracurriculars that are catnip for admissions officers.

U.S. News reports that some colleges are now failing to admit appropriate women in lieu of admitting men in order to avoid a gender gap. Now…wait just a minute here. If memory serves there are European American men out there that at some point have felt that equal opportunity did them wrong. Interesting, how the tables turn, isn’t it?

It didn’t take long though, to take a dramatic turn into dog info. Not that I don’t love dogs (I mean, really…I have a zoo of them in my home). But are general statistics on dogs what should really be important in the evening news? Can people not find this stuff out on their own? As a matter of fact, can people not figure it out on their own for that matter? They felt it was important to tell whoever was watching this evening that labradors are the most popular dog according to the American Kennel Club. No shit. Again, not that I don’t seriously heart dogs…but aren’t there more relevant things people should know when they blithely tune into and space out on the news? News flash…they’re also one of the breeds with the highest incidents of biting humans; only because they’re so popular. That’s statistics. That’s not really newsworthy.

NBC News deemed it really important to add a piece on how to correctly pronounce "Nevada" so as not to offend the locals. Really? They’re responsible for the armpit that is Reno…but we should be primarily concerned on a Wednesday evening with how to pronounce the state name?

In conclusion, there was also a story done on abuse of power by an on duty officer. This was disappointing, not because it was reported on the news, but because it is just indicative of the question…as humans are we really capable in general of dealing with any type of power without abusing it? I realize of course that not all of those indowed with power abuse it…but for case and point, check out the Stanford Mock Prison study.

The news as displayed on popular channels is seriously disappointing in so many ways. It is precisely why that is not my main source of what is going on in the world.   

Protected: Serenity is not freedom from the storm, but peace amid the storm

August 7, 2007 Enter your password to view comments.

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I’m Speechless

February 26, 2007 Leave a comment

But in a really good way.

Let me just start by saying that I now love this website. Heartless bitches is right-about ten times over.

I’ll continue by pointing out a quote on that page that says:

I do get called a bitch quite often. What I do NOT get called is pushover, stupid, sweetheart, dear or doormat. Works for me. Rebecca M.

I’ll end by pointing out this link which is a statement by a man discussing what mysogyny really is in every day situations.

Once I figured this out, many things about misogyny became clear. A misogynistic value system would favor women who put out and are easy to control. Misogynists would talk about women in a dehumanized way, i.e., nice legs, great ass, etc, as if women were nothing more than a collection of body parts. Dating and relationships would become a game of manipulation fraught with various seedy techniques and ploys designed to get women to have sex. Something else I noticed as I browsed the web is that although misogynists try to control women, they are ironically dependent on women for validation in front of other men and society. This dependence is disempowering and only adds to the anger and resentment misogynists feel towards women.

Thank you. Thank you, and thank you.

Nice20legs

Street Justice and Rainbow Socks

December 27, 2006 1 comment

I was not myself today, at all. I wasn’t even a distant cousin of myself. I don’t even think I was on this earth although I’m still confused as to where I might have been.

Today was the first day of taking the bus-it is a bus that starts as one numbered route, but for no reason that I can fathom, turns into an entirely different one halfway to my destination. I was decidedly nervous, considering previous bus escapades, that the website might have been lying to me when it assured me that I would arrive at work by 7:21 if I trusted that particular bus. I didn’t trust it. Problem was, I momentarily forgot where I was going. It went a little like this:

ME: This goes to Utah avenue right? (What?)

BUS GUY (with an appropriately puzzled look): What?

ME: (Why the hell can’t I remember the street that I’m on?) I mean 4th street. (What the hell am I saying?)

BUS GUY (who couldn’t even continue to look at me by that point): You mean 1st?

ME (appropriately chagrined): Yeah.

I immediately sat down and didn’t move the entire way to work…I was convinced, and no one could tell me differently, that the entire bus had heard what could have only sounded like the ramblings of someone who had possibly dropped a little acid prior to jaunting off to work. Humiliating. Worse yet, I have to face the same bus driver tomorrow morning as well.

Later on in my evening (I eventually got over the embarrassment) over dinner the subject of street justice came up in a conversation with a friend. After sharing with me a story of how someone had once burned her financially, I immediately chimed in with what would have been my solution to the problem; to introduce a little street justice to the problem. She thought this was hilarious (I wonder if it was simply the mental image of me in particular trying to serve street justice on anyone…I’m deciding not to spend too much energy on trying to figure that out though). I take it very seriously though. And the following people would be on my street justice list:

  • Anyone who thinks it is acceptable to single a woman out by asking in a job interview if they have children or are married.
  • Anyone who hurts me to my very core but never bothers to at least attempt to make amends for the behavior.
  • Liars.
  • Loud gum chewers.
  • The dolts at BBC that think this is acceptable.
  • Assholes that aren’t satisfied with ruining every other day of the year but have to ruin holidays too.

I’m sure I could come up with pages more but I’ve tired myself out by being someone and somewhere else all day.

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