Loss and a Question

For times when there appeared to be no good solution or answer my father lightened things up with a line from Robert Frost’s “Love and a Question”:

“Stranger, I wish I knew,” he would say.

“. . . . but before we begin

we need to acknowledge

that the land we stand upon

was traditionally occupied

by the [name your tribes]

from time immemorial but

who don’t occupy it anymore

because it is now ours. Their

culture is amazing, by the way.”

Settler, what might be this need

on your part

to acknowledge

if that is even the right word

that we are standing on land,

settler, you and I,

that you state is now yours?

Thank you

You’re welcome

Don’t rub it in

(weak smile)

(Ojibwe style head nod)

Settler, welcome to the homeland

Gaawiin; none of these seem right.

Shall we quote the saddest of lines

sung by Buffy Sainte-Marie:

“Hands on our hearts we salute you your victory”

or shall we kneel?

How many of these

land acknowledgment statements

that are in truth

land acquisition statements

have I listened to,

the coldness of reality

delivered earnestly righteously

or crowing perhaps

with a triumphantly virtuous

preening of feathers

or that one time

by a young Native woman

not in a position to refuse

the peculiar honor

who though somewhat uneasy

maintained dignity

and self-respect for us all?

Is there a proper response

to a land acknowledgment

land acquisition statement

and all that has followed that loss

displacement deprivation starvation

removals broken families

disrupted dreams lives destroyed

absent children dying far from home

alcoholism trachoma tuberculosis

rolling through decades, centuries,

in the wake of your acquisition of land,

your acknowledgment statement

feeble futile and for what reason and need?

Settler, I wish I knew.

My spirit spirals in the wake of ancestors

then pauses; I look at the sky

questioning while day passes

dusk falls stars look down

amanj, amanji i dash

and I don’t know, and I wonder

what would Elders

whose advice I would seek

if they were not absent

bodies gone to the next world

or minds preceding the physical journey,

what would they counsel?

“They are our guests,”

an old man once said to me,

“guests on this land

and we treat them the way you do

when somebody comes to the house,

invite them inside, offer them a place to sit,

share what you have, that’s our way.

Wherever anybody goes, we are either guests

in their house, or they are a guest in ours

and that’s how the Ojibwe do it.

The Creator made us to be that way.”

Gii-gikenjige, geget.

Birthed long before the question

the response is our existence,

the continuity of our ways

by breath and heartbeat

learning and teaching

words and deeds

we are the lifeblood

linking ancestors and descendants.

Settler, biindigen; namadabin; wiisinin.

Aniin miinik? I wish I knew.