I’m not the [Indian, Christian, woman, whatever] you are looking for.

Flannel Friday

I’m not a good Indian. I’m not a good Christian. I’m not a good woman.

I’m just me.

I’m an enrolled member of the Oglala Sioux Tribe. My mother is white, and my dad’s mom was white, and we have been mixed blood since right before Wounded Knee happened. I’m not even sure how many of my dad’s kids are enrolled.

Many conservative (bet you didn’t know there was such a thing, huh) Lakota (and I don’t mean Republican) don’t think that you ARE Lakota unless all your bloodlines are traced through the men. Damn. I guess the fact one of my Lakota ancestors was shot at the Little Big Horn doesn’t count for anything. I’m not a ‘real’ Indian, if you’re looking for one, and I’m sure as hell not the last of anything. Sorry, Chase.

I love Jesus and there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not thinking about that. But, I’m also not a good Christian. Man, for this I have so many reasons that I can’t even begin to delineate them all. I’m not married to the man I sleep (and live) with. I cuss. Often. I get angry. I would rather play in dirt than sit in a pew. I can’t stand most other Christians. I can’t remember the last time I sat down with my Bible.

I love being a woman. But I’m not a good woman. I don’t love my man more than anything else. I love my children, but with my focus on work, I probably won’t win any mother of the year awards. I’m not a good daughter, and I’m sure I’m a terrible sister. I’m a recovering woman hater. I get angry. I’m not forever nurturing, pot of soup on the stove, never challenge a man sort of woman.

So, I’m sorry to dissapoint so many of you. Recently had the pleasure of a run in with Madville Times, a blog I enjoy until its readers piss me off. Just a reminder that a lot of men out there want the Indians, Christians and women quiet, meek and subservient, so they can figure out what is best for everyone.

Have fun with that.

PS I’m also rather poor. Lowest middle class for sure and that’s only because I don’t live alone and homes with working dads do definitely fare better than single-mom households. However, all my ‘solidarity with the poor’ peeps would be sad to know that I’m a terrible poor person. I hate being poor. I think about money a lot. Sure, I’m not going to make it by selling out the triple-bottom-line I believe in, but I’m not going to lie any more that money isn’t important. Someone has to bring home the organic produce or local market fare, or at least own some dirt to grow this shit in, and NONE of that happens without money.

5 thoughts on “I’m not the [Indian, Christian, woman, whatever] you are looking for.

  1. I am not an Indian, but I can be a rotten Christian woman of Italian, German and Polish descent tha is washed in the blood of Jesus. I stand with you.

  2. Thank god you are human! Otherwise I wouldn’t be worthy enough to read your blog.

    Your lack of pretense is refreshing, and considerably easier than pretending to perfection. Good for you.

    You may have noticed my comments on Madville Times. That is how I found your blog. Glad I did. Now you are bookmarked and I’ll come back often. Thanks.

  3. Hi Beth I hope I didn’t piss you off to much. I think if we really got down to it you and I are much the same in thought.

    There is no bigger supporter of women’s reproductive right then this man.

    There is nothing worse then a racist, nothing.

    Sustainable living is something to shoot for but something I haven’t found yet.

    Now I don’t hate Christians, I don’t like organized religion shoved down peoples throats. That doesn’t mean that I don’t believe there is something out there it just means that I think religion should be personal not pushed. I know a lot of supposedly religious people that would go to church on Sunday and screw their neighbors on Monday.

    If you have read anything other then what I have written on Madville you would know that my thoughts about living on the Pine Ridge are consistent. I only want what is best for my friends, and believe me I have lusts of native friends. Our differences lie in that I see things the way they are and you see things the way you would like them to be, nothing more then that.

    Again I’m sorry if I pissed you off that was never my intention.

    The Bllindman

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