Verdigre, Nebraska.
We stood in the tiny mud-room with the door open, smoking and shivering. It was freezing, about zero degrees with the wind howling. In the distance we could see the overlapping hills of my people’s ancestral homelands, the bare skeleton of a perfect tree hanging tough on the topmost point, touching the sky. Continue reading
Rain-Wet Shepherds Boarding the Shame Train
A two day Greyhound bus ride from
Lincoln, NE to Seattle. Later, I’d
learn that the bus was called ‘the
shame train.’ Continue reading
1. Cigar store Indians because any publicity is good publicity, right? Am I right?
2. Growing up, surviving, thriving, and becoming the all right/sometimes pretty rad guy I am today Continue reading
14. Dennis told me a funny story once. “There was this one Native brother who was always in the hole; every time he got out he’d get into a fight and then go right back in. He always wore shades, never went anywhere without his shades on. One time he came up to me and we were talking and he lowered his shades, looked me right in the eyes, and said, ‘Violence is the only way, brother. Continue reading
21. Denny’s mom telling us a story in Selfridge- “And then he said, ‘Mom, am I going to be the only Indian in my class again?’” We all start laughing, Denny just shakes his head and continues combing his son’s hair. (In middle school watching Loveline on MTV with my friends, the guest, Poe, wearing a tight t-shirt that says, “Mommy, What’s a Sex Pistol?”) Continue reading
