fuck the convoy pretendians
my first memories are of stories of residential homes, the 60s scoop, going to drumming group and praying and singing for all of our lost brothers and sisters and ancestors
my grandfather still keeps his medicine wheel and eagle feathers in his BASEMENT because he was taught to be a ‘french man’ instead of an ‘indian’ so he wouldn’t be TAKEN AWAY.
my mother knows nothing of our culture, our teachings. i was the first child lucky enough to start learning and drumming from a young age and I carry that as a heavy responsibility.
NO you do NOT get to just ‘announce’ yourself as native american. being indigenous is not a fucking CHOICE. eat d i r t.
















