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I speak, I have spoken I have spoken across this so-called United States of America I have shared stories, ideas, historical anecdotes Social justice tales, personal lore, and the like This one time I was speaking, a young man interrupted me Interrupted me with all the authority he could muster And what I can only imagine was placed, or misplaced In his whiteness The caucasity He knew he could interrupt me because his parents likely told him that he could But I'd be remiss if I didn't admit that I was intrigued What could possibly be so important? As he interrupted me as I told stories to these children Stories they've never heard Stories I was invited here to tell His query "Why do you spend so much time complaining and not putting your energy into actually helping your people?" The shock, the offense The caucasity When he asked his question, he nudged his friend next to him Looking for an agreeable partner, an allegiance, a validation A mob of two, which is technically the smallest mob you can have, I think Letras de cancionesHis friend physically moved away Shaking his head as though pleading, "Please, don't pull me into this, please, please" And the room rumbled as though providing a soundtrack to his friend's discomfort The caucasity Perhaps instead of saying a thing that comes from a place of your ignorance, you should ask, "Why am I here?" Why have you never heard these stories? Why has your poor education told you that the Whites are the heroes and the Blacks and Browns are the enemy? In the way, property, less than, savage, godless And you have the audacity, no, the caucasity To perceive inconvenient truths to be complaining In a learning institution Why do you believe that an educated indigenous man is unable to teach, speak truth, and help his people all at the same time? And why as a nineteen or twenty year old child, do you think you know better? Assured of your righteous place in the world Why do you ask your question with that smug look on your face? That same smug look carried by your ancestors that enslaved And lynched and murdered and maimed and plundered The caucasity I get it, you're at a disadvantage Information has been omitted and you carry things that are systemically in place like "My people are special and magical" or something And your love of Native Americans is rooted in the romance of our existence, something to fantasize about Unique, exotic, not human In reality, we are a people that were in the way of so-called progression We were murdered and enslaved and your idea of us is sports mascots Or the antagonists for a John Wayne or Kevin Costner film We're D-list characters, eliminate-able characters People that are frequently treated as foreigners in our own homelands And we've gone so far in the colonial process that we barely exist to you We aren't something to be seen or respected Or something that stands even as a cautionary tale on how to avoid dehumanization and assimilation And ignorance and brutality and imperialism or genocide Because we are an inconvenient Indian Something that challenges your own sense of superiority Something you don't have to think about because you don't have to think about it and look, your privilege is showing I hope you learn two things here First, don't do that And second, why do you spend so much time complaining and not putting your energy into actually helping your people be better? By not being this, not this, never this The caucasity From Letras Mania