Native American Day

Today is Native American Day.

The rest of the United States knows it as Columbus Day.

Deep sigh.

I warned my mom before I moved to Pine Ridge that living here was going to change me.  I knew that I would become passionate about the Native people, more than I already was.  In fact, I was keeping my mom company in her garden one day before I drove out here and told her that I was worried about seeing Mount Rushmore.  I shared that I was curious how Native peoples felt about the faces of Euro-American white men being carved into the land that they call home.  My mom responded, "Meredith, you've gotten so radical in your old age."  We had a good laugh, but it's true.  I have gotten radical.  I do care.

I'm glad that Columbus Day means a day off of work for some folks, but I'm not glad that we celebrate and honor a man who raped and pillaged thousands of people.  Call me radical, but I'm not a fan of good ole' Christopher.

So how did I celebrate Native American Day then?

I voted.

I have stayed out of the Facebook debates over politics this season, simply because I think people tend to remove all restraints when they post and comment about politics.  It's sad and hurtful.  I have been keeping up with the debates and reading up on the different candidates, requesting my Pennsylvania absentee ballot well in advance.  I wanted to be sure that my vote counted.  After filling in the ovals and promising Indiana County that I was who I said I was, I placed my ballot in the envelope and sealed it.  Then, I was faced with a predicament: Which stamp do I choose?

The set of stamps that I bought a few weeks back had presented me with a difficult decision for a simple task of placing one stamp on one envelope.  My ballot is my voice in the United States government system, so what do I value most in that small voice?  Freedom?  Liberty?  Equality?  Justice?

When I visited Mount Rushmore a few weeks back, I started to get nauseous as I read the displays.  The four presidents chosen for the faces on Rushmore were chosen because they were men who represented, essentially, "freedom for all in the Land of the Free."  This information, of course, was on the same display board explaining the Massacre (many white historians call it a battle) at Wounded Knee.

The Land of the Free hasn't been free for the Indian people for a couple hundred years now.

So what is my most important value then, when voting for the next American president and other leaders?  Freedom, liberty, equality and justice for all.  FOR...ALL.  Those are my values.  For everyone.  For Euro-Americans who came here for freedom.  For the Native peoples who were free until those Euro-Americans took that freedom away.  For the people who still immigrate to this country in hopes of getting away from violent and oppressive governments, religious orders and poverty.  Ultimately though, it's not just up to Obama or Romney to decide what "freedom" looks like for all; it's up to us as well.

So, which stamp did I choose?  After a five-minute ethical debate over a stamp, a stamp that doesn't actually show my support for one candidate over another, I settled on "Justice."  The desire to have my stamps by symmetrical and even won.