I went to a funeral this past Monday September 15th of a man who I had known for a very long time. We fell out of touch for a while and I'll explain why that is later on. Funerals are sad occasions we all get that. There are people who mostly know each other vaguely and in passing and only by the fact that they all knew the departed. I hate the uncomfortable small talk about purse sizes, crazy Michigan weather, bathroom sink problems and of course the passing of the departed. I'm not that social to begin with and small talk seriously irritates me. My wife kept the people who kept coming over to me busy with small talk because she's the kind person who never met a stranger.
I sat there looking at the departed's family and how utterly uncomfortable they were. See the departed was a full blooded wannabe. He was White, everyone who met him knew he was White but he was genial in the most endearing way that most Indians just bypassed that. He would come to pow wow's and be in the finest of regalia's, all handmade by himself, and stay under the radar. He said he was a follower of the Red Road but he never went to ceremonies, he never sweat or smoked the pipe.Wore a ton of turquoise and petosky stone jewelry. He wore a fancy well beaded somewhat ostentatious medicine bag around his neck and he had a bag of tobacco on his hip which he would generously offer or lay down. When asked about his Nation he told everyone he was Ojibwa. When pressed about his clan he was vague, when asked about his ties to the reservation he was even more vague. I once asked what sovereignty issues he was involved in he didn't respond. Changed the subject to pow wow etiquette. One of his favorite subjects. I asked him what family he was related to and he mentioned a rather well known family but once more was nowhere near specific. I saw the a few members, including the elder father, and asked if they knew him. Not in a malicious way I was thinking this could be an opportunity for them to welcome a long lost relative. No one I asked knew who he was. They did point out his last name was German and that's as far as it went.
All evidence pointed to him being a White guy. He was in his early fifties when I met him and he lived alone. I asked about his children and his ex-wife and he told me how they were all "living like the White man" with some serious resignation. He would talk about being the only one in his family who honored his Indian ancestors. Here's the problem, everything I wrote about him is like phony Indian 101. They are culture vulture's because they are obsessed with being Indian and they totally ignore what they really are. That's a DIS-honor to thier true ancestors. You can admire our culture and that's just showing appreciation for us as Original People. To "live the Indian way" when you know you're less than a 16th Original blood is sad. That's what bothered me at the funeral. I saw his family, all dressed in black and wearing suits and dresses while he lay in the casket in some of his finest regalia with painted feathers made to look like Eagle feathers adorning the casket and the tables around him. The family meandered around unsure of who was who, instantly recognizing our names, but just uncomfortable. I heard over and over from various members, "I hope this is the right way." "I hope this is what is right and what he wanted". What an ugly position to be put in all because he was ashamed of Whites. I can't tell you how many times I have heard from a wannabe how ashamed they are of, "the White part of me". When I don't know who they are fooling because the "White" part of them IS them.
He was not a bad guy at all, I hope this is not coming out that way. I did like him I just got sick of the stupid shit. He began claiming he was Metis and even had a card. He had a god damned Indian card. It was worthless. No government, Original people of otherwise, recognized it. Metis are a legitimate group of First Nations Canadian Indian people, they are recognized only in Canada. Here in America most NDN people I know would either assume you were Canadian or full of shit.
The whole blood quantum deal has created this type of garbage. The romanticized version of NDN's has made this shit commonplace. Nice people or irritations aside, these people are culture vultures and they are not harmless. I was watching the news one day a long time ago and they were talking about the mascot issue, from previous blogs you should know this is a issue I am more than familiar with. They had your typical White male looking stiff and nerdy in a suit arguing for the mascot and then the camera shifted to show the, and this is what it said under the person's name, "Native American Activist" and it was a White woman with her hair in braids, wearing a dress and a turquoise ring on each finger and a garish necklace with a Medicine bag talking about how mascots hurt US. I damn near fainted. I happen to know this particular wannabe and she claims a small nation that most people never heard of. How are we going to be taken seriously when discussing racial issues when the proponents and "spokespeople" look just like the opposition. That looks more like an internal squabble than what it truly is.
I'm brown, I LOVE being brown. I wish I lived somewhere tropical so I could be browner all the damn time. There is no way in hell that a White person, or even an NDN with White skin, (Yes we have them and I happen to love quite a few of them. We have them because we are Original people and if it a human on this earth it comes from us si it's naturak we would have Black, various Brown shades and even White NDN's) has the same cultural and societal experiences I have. You can be a political ally of us without having to claim you're one of us. I would respect you more.
His passing was sad and I somewhat regretted not speaking to him for years because my tolerance level for stupid shit is low. In this case I felt so sad for the family. They were so confused and there was nothing I could say to them to comfort them that what they did was more than adequate and just fine. That's what bothered me about his passing.
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