For My Father: Culture Matters
The lightning danced across the night sky as the storm clouds rolled in across the mountains. You looked older there, sitting on the ground before me, then you did when I first came to live with you. What did you think that you would accomplish by taking me there? Did you think that if Isaw you smudge and pray that I would follow suit and thank Creator for this life he gave me? Did you think that if I heard you sing your honoring songs that I would lift my voice with yours and join you? Did you think that if you drummed and danced that somehow my soul would move in unison with yours? Did you think that I would forget my friends back home and the good times that they were having while you made me sit on that mountain and listen to your stories about the soldiers; how they came and stole the land and our children and our pride. And do you know that I laughed with all of those who laughed at you for thinking that you could heal my spirit with all of this great knowledge that you thought that you possessed?
But you silenced all of that laughter because here I am and the self loathing has been replaced with self respect. The self doubt has been replaced with confidence. The self mutilation has been replaced with self preservation. The wounds have been replaced with scars. And my laughter at you, my father, has been replaced with honor. Some people say that culture doesn't matter. I know better because our culture saved my life and the one person that no one thought ever deserved me was the only one who ever cared enough to share it with me.
The lightning danced across the night sky as the storm clouds rolled in across the mountains. You looked older there, sitting on the ground before me, then you did when I first came to live with you. What did you think that you would accomplish by taking me there? Did you think that if Isaw you smudge and pray that I would follow suit and thank Creator for this life he gave me? Did you think that if I heard you sing your honoring songs that I would lift my voice with yours and join you? Did you think that if you drummed and danced that somehow my soul would move in unison with yours? Did you think that I would forget my friends back home and the good times that they were having while you made me sit on that mountain and listen to your stories about the soldiers; how they came and stole the land and our children and our pride. And do you know that I laughed with all of those who laughed at you for thinking that you could heal my spirit with all of this great knowledge that you thought that you possessed?
But you silenced all of that laughter because here I am and the self loathing has been replaced with self respect. The self doubt has been replaced with confidence. The self mutilation has been replaced with self preservation. The wounds have been replaced with scars. And my laughter at you, my father, has been replaced with honor. Some people say that culture doesn't matter. I know better because our culture saved my life and the one person that no one thought ever deserved me was the only one who ever cared enough to share it with me.
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