You are here

SEARCHING FOR A HIGHER SPIRITUAL PLANE FOR INDIAN AMERICA TO RECLAIM THE EARTH

News Categories: 

Dear Editor:

I am, as some may call me, a European Wasicu.

Most Europeans look up to Native Americans and value their cultural heritage. They consider the European colonizers, your ancestors of the American Wasicu, the oppressors.

However, some American Wasicu, and there are many, believe Native American tribal people stand on higher spiritual grounds.

I am one of these.

I am both a citizen of France and the “United” States. In a sense, you too have dual citizenship; in more sense than one. Your primary citizenship is as one of the Oyate. Your second citizenship is being a member of all American tribal people, and finally, as American citizens.

The Navajo call themselves the Dine (the People). The Shoshonee-Bannock have their own word by which they refer to themselves as “the People.” In the Uto-Aztecan language tree, in one of the dialects spoken millennia ago in Western Mesoamerica, Tohona O’odham means, “Desert People.”

When America’s Founding Fathers used Thomas Jefferson's words to proclaim:

 “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness—That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.—That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundations on such principles, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

They certainly did not refer to you as: “Oyate” or “Dine” or “Tohona O’odham”; they referred to themselves and their agenda, promoting the well-faring and the wealth generating of the white upper class.

In February 2014, I started a bit of writing. It goes this way:

'A nanosecond of heart to heart is such a brittle bridge. It does its straight and narrow through neuronal branching. From dendrites to dendrites’ spaces, I hear Thank You cascade through the switches of life, outpouring.'

Will we downsize our Truth, leading ourselves away from the untrodden paths of the whole of life?

 Will we let juggernauts, crushing corporations state repeatedly their unshakable claims about the, “To Grow or Not to Grow Together of Our Communities”; the “Have Risen or Not Have Risen” levels of CO2?

 The ethical RIGHT: “To Rise or Not to Rise of All Tribal People”?

Or the, “To Be or Not to Be True” of campaign promises?

Will we read between the lines of emergent double-edged languages roaming our Mother Earth? Will we plant our fate in the amazing grace of synchronicity and serendipity under the eye of eons?

Will we stand our ground, create new grounds to be, to move forward by a full return to the ways of the Potlatch/Potluck, the gift-giving feast. (This tradition was banned by the Wasicu for a long time, then decriminalized later on.)

It was banned because the white American culture functions through profit-for-profit, towards the accumulation of wealth. Except for some religious communities, the white American culture does not consider sharing and giving as a moral way to bring about progress because progress is in great part equated with selling to others a better life through material things.

Will we start a healing, spirited, circling dance, and invite all to join: have nots, displaceds, unabled, disabled, loners; those who ache so deeply they find no rest; those who keep on dreaming in the midst of unbearable pain?

Will we stop at nothing to lead all Potlatch people on a lasting trek through nooks and crannies, Sacred Hills and Sacred Waters to calm the groans of OUR COMMON Mother, the Earth, and thereby soothe the hidden moaning of our lives?

Will we venture onto a brittle bridge?

We Are All Related.

/s/ Mariek McCloud

Salt Lake City, Utah

Powered by Drupal

Theme by Danetsoft and Danang Probo Sayekti inspired by Maksimer