If I Were a Pueblo Princess

When I was in first grade I learned about the Pueblo Indians. I went on school field trips to museums and drew pictures of adobe homes in class. I went on family trips out to Pinnacle Peak and hiked the red hills till I was tired and hungry. And in college I learned about the real, tragic history of American Indian tribes.

I always wondered what it would be like to live in a Pueblo villiage "way back when". I loved the desert. I loved the heat. I loved the sun. I loved Gilla Monsters and horned toads and "garden lizzards". I loved Prickly Pear fruit and the strange and subtle smell of rocks.

I remember driving out to the state parks, watching the mountains grow bigger and bigger as we got closer. I remember wanting to climb those mountains barefoot. I don't think I ever tried, for fear of Black Widows and scorpions. Sometimes I would stop and stare up at the sun, then out accross the seemingly endless span of jagged, red cliffs. I imagined that I was an Indian Princess.

I imagined I lived in an adobe and ate hot corn tortillas with honey for breakfast. If I were a Pueblo princess I would spend my days padding through the mountains barefoot, eating cactus fruit and scanning the horizon for ominous birds. I would learn how to talk to the animals, and one day I would find my spirit guide.

Then I would be invincible.

Maybe I was a mountain lion. Maybe I was a bear. Maybe I was an Iguana so I could change my colors to blend into my surroundings. Maybe I was something poisonous.

I always liked sweating. I liked it when my heart raced and my muscles filled with hot blood. I liked it when the wind blew across my damp scalp causing my skin to ripple into goose bumps. I liked how much better cold water tasted when my mouth was dry from panting. I once had a dream that I was soaring through the Grand Canyon, speeding along with the pressure of the currents, but ever descending, gently to the bottom.

I felt safe in the desert. I didn't worry about starving, or dehydrating, or being maimed by an animal. I wanted to roll in the dirt and sleep in the sun and sit by a fire after the sun went down and the temperature dropped with it.

I used to stand in the middle of the street in our suburban neighborhood and watch the sun sink below the horizon. The middle of the street was the best place to stand because East Janice Way ran due East/West. From the street, it looked like the sun melted into the pavement before me. The sky turned pink first, with a lavender glow at the farthest reaches of the sun's last light. Then the sun turned orange and the sky was red behind it. Bright oranges and pinks painted the underbellies of the clouds, and a deep blue began to creep forward from the other end of the block. The purple sky was right above me. Then the sun turned red and the whole horizon looked like it was on fire. I could stare right at the sun without having to squint. That usually meant it was alsmost bedtime.

The collective buzz of the cicada chorus gave way to the sound of cricket chirps and the pavement grew cold beneath my feet. I would get into my pajamas and lie in bed, trying to burn the image of the sunset into my mind so I could keep it forever. I was sure that each sunset I saw was the prettiest one yet, and I didn't ever want to forget it.

I hated how quiet my room was. It was silent. And through the door I could hear the soft mumble of the t.v. in the living room. I wanted to hear the cicadas and the crickets and the wind. I felt cut off - trapped - in the house when the desert was still settling down outside.

"If I were a Pueblo Princess . . ." I'd ask myself. And if I was lucky, I'd fall asleep to a dream that I followed a horned toad through the desert to a cave full of beautiful Indian jewelry, and there I would find my spirit guide who would teach me how to be invincible.

Poets, players, thieves, and friends

Whaaahhhh. Wow. Something is happening to me. I don't know if the stars are aligning, or my tightly woven world views are simply unraveling because the corrosive threads have been pointed out to me or WHAT - but DAMN. All the things I ever wanted to care about are suddenly taking a front seat.

I didn't think it would ever shake down like this.

I always wanted to be "the kind of person" who did "good things". I wanted to be the kind of Jew that did "Mitzvah/ Mitzvot (pl.)". I wanted to WANT to care, I just couldn't quite get there. I spent all of my time thinking about how hard life was for me, and I never felt truly happy. I couldn't possibly help anybody else because I didn't have "enough" to give away. I didn't think I even had "enough" for myself. ("Enough" of what I still don't know).

I'll have to write more about this later, but in a nutshell, I came to understand that a human experience can be a beautiful thing. Today I believe that we are all spiritual beings having a human experience, and that no one person is any less entitled to enjoy his humanness than anyone else. That is why I believe I have a duty - WE have a duty - to ensure that one's basic needs are met, that they may enjoy a human experience on this earth.

We would not have been artists, thinkers, painters, architects, chefs, dancers, poets, musicians, politicians, soldiers, lovers, friends if a human experience did not posses the potential to be divine.

http://www.oxyweekly.com/home/index.cfm?event=displayArticle&ustory_id=72016d2e-ae5e-4047-9f77-41582f428ccc

I responded to an article in a California college's publication. The issue at hand is essentially RACE IN AMERICA. I am particularly fond of one article - the ARC preamble - and I have attached it at the end of this post. These are my thoughts:

"I am a student at a liberal arts school in MN and I am currently researching "racial equity" and "economic justice". I find it FASCINATING that you have a group of "white" students for racial equity. I can see where a person of color might find this threatening, offensive, and counter-productive, but I would like to say that I understand the sentiments of WSRE. I would also like to point out that civil rights leaders from W.E.B. DuBois and Malcom X to Audre Lorde emphasized the importance of ACKNOWLEDGING the difference between "races". According to Lorde, one of the worst sins we can commit is pretending that these differences do not exist. I think that WSRE can serve as an invaluable asset to achieving equity - IF - they/you can work toward educating those who identify as "white" about the implicit advantages of being a fair-skinned American. BECAUSE racism IS institutionalized and reinforced through social and academic media, it is ESSENTIAL to bring awareness to those who identify as "white" that the messages they are receiving about themselves and non-white people are skewed.

And shouldn't white people feel proud and safe being WHITE people who want equity and justice? Isn't it possible that "non-white" groups/organizations are less accessible to white people who want to be part of the solution? (e.g. are there any white people on the board of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People?) Why would there be anything wrong with someone saying, "I am white and I think there is something wrong with the ingrained racial inequities in this country," ?

As an aside, I happen to be a "mixed" American and my particular group has been referred to as, "white with an asterisk". I am "fair-skinned" but I am "non-white-enough" to get stopped in airport. Through my research this year, I am beginning to understand the depth and power of the fallacy of "race". While our genetic differences are negligible, it would be profoundly ignorant to say that race "does not exist". It DOES (as an idea, a VERY powerful idea) and it is just as important for white people to be openly on-board with racial equity as it is for "non-white" people.

I urge you and your readers to check out the information at the following addresses. (I do not represent, nor am I employed by either of these agencies. This is JUST information that I have come across in my research. Thank you for your candid efforts to live in the solution. Yes we can."

www.evaluationtoolsforracialequity.org

http://www.arc.org/images/fr08/compact/ARC_compact_preamble.pdf