identity theft

To the boy who won’t stop calling me…. I’ve already told you that………………I DON’T LIKE YOU. And if I haven’t made it clear enough…. you AND ME…. WE WILL NEVER BE!  ______________Cold as if may seem my reasons do proceed, you see….. you have no sense of identity and I can’t entirely blame you but…. what could have brought us together as ties to similarities __DID NOT, because you failed to care for what I AM SO PROUD OF… and you choose privilege, which speaks a lot because…. you like me…. share an identity in that we are both Ojibwe and the blood that runs the river course of our veins has seized to fully assimilate and kept in tact our traditions and stood a fight to survive genocide. You can’t tell me that’s not something… Our ancestors fought and lived so we could be , they endured government laws to strip them and become apples, white on the inside, red on the outside, and this may seem contradictory but you lack the respect to fully see that your Dad….. is BROWN. That in this society that brown has disadvantage because of lineages of racism enforced by our presidents and forefathers, mitigated by our white folks that gave up who they were for this… evil. Propogatingly buying into unequal. And that brown of your dad…. can only let him gain so much and puts him at a lesser ground because its not he with the power. It isn’t he… with the power. And my dad, made sure to tell me that! So when we converse about our history and with disinterest you sigh at me… I feel DISGUST.  How can you deny a fourth of your being? And you wonder why your so depressed, remember that Natives are too with a han dealt them by slavery, pillage, rape, theft, and abuse. That your ancestors passed down their sorrows… to you, generation by generation by generation. And until you find them, you may never really be happy. Until you  find out… who you are.