Not A Costume

An Indian Cry.
A simple savage sound, you expect to hear that from my open mouth.
I get it, you're practically an expert.
Thick turquoise bracelets stacked up along your arm.
Clunky rings gaudy on each finger.
You have a dream catcher on your rear view mirror.
Does your shirt read "Native Pride?"
All in the name of fashion I suppose.
Yeah, I love your aztec prints, and those moccasins are rocking.
All your fringe and feathers make me feel sublime.
Thank you for supporting a nation.

Yeah, I get it, it's your personal expression.
But I'll have you know...to me this is more than an accessory.
I am more than the beads and feathers that you have defined me by.
I am more than the leather, the rugs, and the peyote you suspect I have.
I am more than the print you wear upon your shirt sleeves.

I am part of a people.

And never in my life have I gripped a flask and pressed it to my salty lips and prayed to die.
I am more than an addiction.
And no, this is not a Halloween costume you can buy.

Anxious hands can mimic and pry to make money off of an image that has become derided by lies, but I will not stand for it.
The marginalization of my people.
This is not to be ignored.
Weeks ago not far from here, a young boy raised  his hand.
Pressed an innocent palm towards the sky,
he asked "if the Indians are still alive."

When we talk about Indians it's so easy to generalize, but we have tribes and nations.
We have come far from where we've been.
This historic grief for my people I carry is more than just for another's sin.
It's not something that can be forgotten.
It's been written into the faces of my mother and grandmother,
I am a living history, a legacy, that cannot be forgotten.
Beyond the boarding schools and the mantra of "kill the Indian and save the man."
This is my clan, this is what I stand for. All my people.
All of them hungry for something to be claimed as equal.
Through the loss of identity.
Passing trends, fads, head dresses and fascination of rich culture.
This is my identity. 

I wear my skin with pride.
So, no, I am not a costume you can buy.