Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Wilma
I Love Wilma Mankiller. She was the principle chief of the Cherokee out of Oklahoma, the first Woman chief of a large tribe in the current conditions under which we are forced to live. She has done a lot for her people. I have had the privilege of seeing her twice in the last two weeks.
The discussion last night that took place at the Whitsell Auditorium at the Portland Art Museum was about tribes, treaties, and trust. You have undoubtedly heard me wax on and on about those subjects, and I may a little at the end of this writing.
Throughout the whole thing, my friend LA, and I were making little comments to each other. We've had our noses in Indian business for years and know how things work...and how they are supposed to work. I would have been a little more....OK...A LOT more forthright with my opinions on the law and the genocide enacted against the indigenous of this nation past, present, and future. But I'm a loud mouth, and after I would be done, I cuckle at the absurdity of it all.
My favorite part was when Wilma talked about her name. She loves her name. I Love her name. (My favorite name, however, is Whitekiller, a Yakama man I worked with.) Wilma told a story of a young man that kept on asking her odd questions. She did the stoic Indian routine, something that many people expect of Indians, and when she took questions from the audience at that particular event, the young man asked her a question. "How did you get the name Mankiller?" he asked her. ..."I earned it," she told him with her stoic face.
Wilma, I can tell, does not see herself in the status that others put her in. I can tell by her actions, my brief conversation with her previously, the way she treats her audiences, etc., that she sees herself as just another human being. She is, afterall, one of us. When Wilma was introduced, she got a standing ovation. She was embarassed and motioned for the people to sit, but we didn't, not right away.
LA was telling me stories from Wilma's autobiography. I have not read it myself, but will undoubtedly have to add it to my stack. Wilma is indeed, a wonderful human being.
Knowing this, I appeal to all of you who are reading this. You are made of the same stuff as Wilma Mankiller (earned her name...just kidding). You are made of the same stuff as Malcolm X, Che Guevara, Martin Luther King, Jr., Ghandi, Winona Laduke, Wilma Mankiller, etc. What are you going to do with that stuff you're made of? You have a certain amount of time in the world, use it wisely. Wilma did/does. So, when you stand and honor this wonderful woman, stand and honor yourself, your family, your community, your fellow human beings, and do something to change this world for the better. I believe in you because I can see you, touch you, know you are made of the same stuff as Wilma. I know who you are. What are you going to do about it?
Once you're ready...I'LL SEE YOU AT THE REVOLUTION!
The discussion last night that took place at the Whitsell Auditorium at the Portland Art Museum was about tribes, treaties, and trust. You have undoubtedly heard me wax on and on about those subjects, and I may a little at the end of this writing.
Throughout the whole thing, my friend LA, and I were making little comments to each other. We've had our noses in Indian business for years and know how things work...and how they are supposed to work. I would have been a little more....OK...A LOT more forthright with my opinions on the law and the genocide enacted against the indigenous of this nation past, present, and future. But I'm a loud mouth, and after I would be done, I cuckle at the absurdity of it all.
My favorite part was when Wilma talked about her name. She loves her name. I Love her name. (My favorite name, however, is Whitekiller, a Yakama man I worked with.) Wilma told a story of a young man that kept on asking her odd questions. She did the stoic Indian routine, something that many people expect of Indians, and when she took questions from the audience at that particular event, the young man asked her a question. "How did you get the name Mankiller?" he asked her. ..."I earned it," she told him with her stoic face.
Wilma, I can tell, does not see herself in the status that others put her in. I can tell by her actions, my brief conversation with her previously, the way she treats her audiences, etc., that she sees herself as just another human being. She is, afterall, one of us. When Wilma was introduced, she got a standing ovation. She was embarassed and motioned for the people to sit, but we didn't, not right away.
LA was telling me stories from Wilma's autobiography. I have not read it myself, but will undoubtedly have to add it to my stack. Wilma is indeed, a wonderful human being.
Knowing this, I appeal to all of you who are reading this. You are made of the same stuff as Wilma Mankiller (earned her name...just kidding). You are made of the same stuff as Malcolm X, Che Guevara, Martin Luther King, Jr., Ghandi, Winona Laduke, Wilma Mankiller, etc. What are you going to do with that stuff you're made of? You have a certain amount of time in the world, use it wisely. Wilma did/does. So, when you stand and honor this wonderful woman, stand and honor yourself, your family, your community, your fellow human beings, and do something to change this world for the better. I believe in you because I can see you, touch you, know you are made of the same stuff as Wilma. I know who you are. What are you going to do about it?
Once you're ready...I'LL SEE YOU AT THE REVOLUTION!
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