Remember way back when you were a bright child

Young and all awkward with a silly cute smile

Off to the school bus in the morning at dawn

Ready to play after boring classes long

We had a few friends and even some snacks

And after it all we had each other's backs

Maybe we ditched once twice, don't tell mom

Or laid about counting the clovers on the lawn

What do you remember of your student days?

How did it shape you and in how many ways?

When I was a kid I was really too much

Full of many questions about such and such

I took the wrong bus home one time on the rez

An hour over dirt roads, going the wrong way

I played far too much and didn't do homework

I'd much rather climb a tree or play in the dirt

One time in band camp, haha JUST KIDDING

I couldn't afford it, So I just sat there thinking

I went to a boarding school myself as a youth

Sherman Indian High School was graced by yours true

I wasn't the best at everything you see

But I wrote a good haiku or two or three

When I graduated, my family felt pride

But the whole time I was uneasy inside

Walking the hallways designed for the Taken

They cut their hair off and forced them to fit in

The government told them its right, white, and just

So, to re-education camps, our children were bussed

Maybe even some here still hold these memories

I've only heard the stories and I feel the grief

You see, some memories live inside the cells

Recalling the trauma even stronger than smells

At such a young age, some escaped to survive

Others split and dissociated just to stay alive

You've heard the stories, So I'll leave it at that

I'd hate to be a bummer wearing a tin hat

But you see, something has been bothering me

Keeps me up nights when I have time to think

Did it ever stop? I mean the control

How are things different now? I mean, on the whole?

We have this strange habit of blaming the One

If you have an addiction, you're just weak, hun!

Hold onto your bootstraps, and go it alone

Independence is prized and for everyone

It's not the system, clearly, you're in the wrong

Just fall in line and recite the anthem

If you have a problem, just fix it yourself

Don't be a burden or you might go to hell!

Your poor decisions landed you where you are

It's not my fault you can't afford caviar!

Here's what's on my mind now. How much of it's true?

I'm not sure I could tell my me from your you

If that's what the powered elite call education

Can I trust that they have changed up their mission?

Some want control, they've grown accustomed to it

Other's want money, and take it bit by bit

When I was born I had little of either

What I had was a history of survival

As I grew up, I trusted in the program

They know what's best, right? I'll do as I'm told then

At one point in my life I began remembering

I forgot for a time, my consciousness splintering

Everything that happened, I thought was my fault

Tho that's really impossible by default

I was subjected to far too much abuse

For a little child and her poetic muse

Adults barely knew me they thought I was weird

I was turning out much worse than they had feared

Some said mental illness was why I was wrong

Proof that I was really weak and not strong

How much of this painful grief that I carry

Did I inherit in my genetic dictionary

What if the depression isn't all my fault

And the PTSD is actually from historic assault

What if the reason I couldn't do band camp

Is the same as why we were on food stamps

And also the reason my lungs got damaged

From the Peabody coal dust that I used to play in

What if I'm sick of the coughing and trauma

And the violence toward my Mother Earth Mama

I've gotten off track this is about the graves

Mass or unmarked with a mascot of The Braves

But, some of our grandmothers got a diploma

And what about the ones who never came home

Someone's baby went to their first day of school

And ended up in the ground marked Indian #2

And this is the very same government by name

So, excuse me if I have a little disdain

Their aim was to kill the Indian inside

In order to save the man. That's genocide.

How much of my learning was tinged by that thinking

That something must die to accept the hoodwinking

I'm starting to wonder if it's way too late now

To question the stories that are keeping me down

Where would I even turn to seek out the truth

I'm starting to confuse my me with your you

Maybe that's it; the very first lie they told us

That you're all alone and there's no one to trust

The government is always just here to help

Is anyone else hearing these warning bells?

It's not education that's under my skin

I, myself, love learning about all the things

My problem is where they told us we're savage

You see, when I hear that; I hear a challenge

There are ways of knowing not found in a book

Like the feel of a fish on the end of your hook

Singing and dancing encapsulate knowledge

About seasons and science just like a college

I feel my heart beating like bum-bum bum-bum

But they'll tell you your intuition is wrong

A fiery rage is taking hold now

Things need to change, but hell if I know how

I never agreed to be part of something like this

When I study history, I get pretty pissed

How many children did they dig up this week?

They could've been aunties and uncles if they got to live

Imagine the mama awake, and all alone

Weeping, because her son will never come home

And tell me those scars didn't lead YOU to despair

Now, do you see how it's all connected from here?

In life we struggle with the everyday things

Paying the bills, shopping, doing the laundry

And when I'm alone, I think its all my fault

Stuck in the shame and with this annoying cough

If I wanted to heal, where would I start?

What if I don't have the commitment or the heart?

What did my great great grandma on the long walk do?

When it all seemed so hopeless from her point of view

How did they remember the stories and songs?

I don't even know my language. Where do I belong?

I remember, when I was young, planting the corn

With grandpa at the field near where mom was born

At harvest we made kneel down bread in the hogan

And I put some in my pocket for later on

When I returned home to bury my grandpa

I found the juniper I climbed as a child

As I creeped up the first branch, a little off kilter

Something shook and I started to jitter

The trembling came from the very tree herself

She remembered me climbing her as little elf

If its all related- the history of trauma

Maybe resilience also came from mama

What if remembering is following the flow

And mending springs forth from helping life grow

What if I'm right and a mind really can heal

And if politics is crap and community is real

What if my rage clarifies my next action

Not taking any bullshit; but full of compassion

What if our kids can have a better tomorrow

Because WE stopped the cycle of trauma and sorrow