I mourn the America I never knew. I thought I knew her in the ways you know a kindly grandmother whose lap you settle on and hear stories, my head tucked into the crook of her shoulder. My stories were of the God-loving Founding Fathers with funny wigs who wrote our Constitution, feather quills dancing … Continue reading the america I never knew: a meditation
In museums we position the objects of our past, the pots, tapestries, war spears and carved planes. From behind the glass, we survey the yellowed pages and raveled canvases of peoples from humanity's long-gone eras, moving placidly along the timeline of brief historical summaries typed on cardstock squares. As children we are taught to make … Continue reading #nodapl
Our nation's pedestal of power has always borne a cost. Keeping it "great," making it greater in the ways advertised this election season may require more of the putty of marginalized bodies to cement the bricks. Reggae artist Ziggy Marley once sang: "Don't know your past, don't know your future," and the lyrics ring true for America. Our historical amnesia prevents us from understanding what acts shaped the contours of our national identity...and who we mutilated in the process.
I watched a tree murdered once. Sixteen years old, cowering behind a rocky outcrop, I stood frozen as two teenage boys, stretched tall and wiry, thrust themselves at a spindly shoot of a tree. They shoved their bodies at the trunk, and it swung through the air like a broken pendulum, its limbs flailing, waving … Continue reading the house in flames