WHEREAS

WHEREAS by Layli Long Soldier


WHEREAS a string-bean blue-eyed man leans back into a swig of beer work-weary lips at the dark bottle keeping cool in short sleeves and khakis as he enters the discussion;

Whereas his wrist loose at the bottleneck to come across as candid "Well at least there was an Apology that's all I can say" he offers to the circle each of them scholarly;

Whereas under starlight in the fireflies wink across East Coast grass and me I sit there painful in my silence glued to a bench in the midst of the American casual;

Whereas a subtle electricity in that low purple light I felt their eyes on my face gauging a reaction and someone's discomfort leaks out in a well-stated "Hmmm";

Whereas like a bird darting from an oncoming semi my mind races to the Apology's assertion "While the establishment of permanent European settlements in North America did stir conflict with nearby Indian tribes, peaceful and mutually beneficial interactions also took place";

Whereas I cross my arms and raise a curled hand to my mouth as if thinking as if taking it in I allow a static quiet then choose to stand up excusing myself I leave them to unease;

Whereas I drive down the road replaying the get-together how the man and his beer bottle states their piece and I reel at what I could have said or done better;

Whereas I could've but didn't broach the subject of "genocide" the absence of this term from the Apology and its rephrasing as "conflict" for example;

Whereas since the moment had passed I accept what's done and the knife of my conscience pierces with bone-clean self-honesty;

Whereas in a stirred conflict between settlers and an Indian that night in a circle;

Whereas I struggle to confess that I didn't want to explain anything;

Whereas truthfully I wished most to kick the legs of that man's chair out from under him;

Whereas to watch him fall backward legs flailing beer stench across his chest;

Whereas I pictured it happening in cinematic slow-motion delightful;

Whereas the curled hand I raised to my mouth was a sign of indecision;

Whereas I could've done it but I didn't;

Whereas I can admit this also took place, yes, at least;



Written by Layli Long Soldier, a woman of the Oglala Sioux tribe, this poem is one of many that express her experience as a dual citizen of America and her tribe, and the rage and toll it has on her.  The poem above is in response to President Obama's 2009 congressional resolution of apology to Native Americans.

I recommend reading this poem out loud, the words stick more.

While this is not necessarily of the subject matter we have been reading and talking about in class, I feel that it deeply resonates with the themes of this class. The whiteness of America cyclically and structurally silences anger and injustice, distracting and oppressing marginalized groups easily--through a lack of opportunity, a lack of self-worthiness, and a lack of space. In particular, this piece highlights a white man's "at least"--as if this is enough. The speaker's reaction to this is silence, she has no room or comfortability to speak her mind in a space dominated by the oppressor. All she wants is to kick the legs out from under him, but the system that he has set up for her makes this impossible. A rage like this must fester and bubble, it can't stay inside forever.

Many saw the 1992 LA riots as an isolated incident. I suppose it must have been easier to ignore the problem if you removed yourself from it completely. The hundreds of years of slavery, institutional racism and segregation, policy implementation favoring whites, and a general haze of white supremacy that the United States is built upon proves the uprising of 1992 to be exactly the opposite of an isolated incident. The rage must bubble up, the anger has to get out. And when there are no other options, people must revolt to have their voices heard.

-Avery Evans