I think because of the Thanksgiving story the big misconception about me is I don’t care. I mean I really don’t care what is thought of me, I don’t give a crap who judges me, because I know not one person walked in my Chuck Taylor’s except for me. So, yes, I don’t care about what people think of me, only my children, and I know I can’t control their opinions. They are smart and will form their own opinions no matter. They have forgiven me for the way life turned out, almost all of them. The one stubborn hold out may not ever forgive me, but its not about my past, its about now. What he wants me to do now, which it don’t matter. It don’t matter even if Derek Jeter wanted me to do something. I have to stay here and do what I am doing for my own well being right now.
The big misconception is that maybe I don’t care about the past and the hardships my people have endured. And that’s bullshit.
I do care. I care too fucking much, and that’s how I got in trouble. Because sometimes, in this world there are people who will take advantage of a good heart.
When that happens, you woman up, own up, and move on.
I care with all my heart, I hurt with all my heart, about every single strand of hair that was cut from my ancestors. About every Lakota word they were forced not to speak, about every hurt and pain each one of them went through.
I care about every lost soul that is turning to an addiction because they don’t know why they are lost. I was so there not too long ago.
I care about what my Lakota ancestors endured.
And at the same time I am so proud that we are still here, we, the Lakota, still have our ways, no matter how they tried to take them from us. We still have them.
So don’t take me for an Indian that forgot, because I’m the one who remembers everything, just sayin’.
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