The Giver

 In middle school we read a book called The Giver, which is about a society where everyone is the same. People's partners are picked for the, their jobs are picked for them when they reach a certain age, and their kids are given to them. In middle school it was difficult to fully understand all the nuances and implications of this text, but not I can see that it can be labeled as a postmodern work.

The Giver brings to question the trustworthiness of government and those in charge. Going more specific, it can be said that the book questions the merits of communism. Its main postmodern technique used is absurdism. Many parts of this story are absurd. First of all, most people in this society only see in black, white, and shades of grey. Memories and information of the past are contained in a person; it is that person's job to keep that information, and access to that information allows them to see color (somehow). The rigid structure of the society is also absurd. People are watched and judged from the moment they are children, and this is what determines their jobs in the future (which they receive when they're still kids). The age someone is given a bike is recorded, and taking an extra apple to eat is also recorded. The absurdity of all the regulations satirizes over powerful leaders/governments, showing them in a tyrannical light.

Paranoia is also used in The Giver. Once the main character (and we, the audience) start learning more about the society and how it really functions, darker sides of it begin to emerge. People who get problematic are killed. A baby born when they shouldn't be is killed. Up to and when the main character escapes this community, paranoia builds on if they will be discovered and reach the same fate. The unsettling feeling that comes with this paranoia serves the postmodern aspect of the novel because it puts over powered governments in an evil light, calling to question methods used to stay in power.

Annabel Lee

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe 

It was many and many a year ago,
   In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
   By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
   Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
   I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
   In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
   Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
   And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
   In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
   Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
   In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling
   And killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
   Of those who were older than we--
   Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
   Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
   In her sepulchre there by the sea--
   In her tomb by the side of the sea.

 In Annabel Lee, the speaker reminisces his departed love. They paint this love as something grand, something fantastical-- too good to be true for many. One way the fantastical nature of this love is portrayed is through the repetition of the fact that it happened "in this kingdom by the sea." Kingdoms draw the image of a fictional and possible magical world. This takes the speaker and Annabel out of the ordinary human world and places them in a much more exciting setting, which adds to the mystic of their love.

However magical the love in the poem may be, it is ultimately about loss. The grief is shown through the length of the stanzas. The first stanza is the longest, at 12 lines long. The length reflects the happiness and lively flow of the love the speaker and Annabel Lee share. However, then the stanzas get shorter as their story becomes more tragic. The next stanza is only 8 lines. The third stanza is  the shortest in the poem, at 6 lines. This is the stanza where Annabel Lee is killed, and the shortness of the stanza reflects both the shortness of their love story, and the emptiness/lack of thoughts that consumes one after experiencing the loss of someone dear to them. The fourth stanza is 7 lines and the last is 8. The stanzas slowly get longer as the spear begins coping with and accepting his loss. However, the stanzas are never as long as the first one, where Annabel was still alive and their love was still blossoming. So while the speaker slowly starts recovering, it seems they never fully returned to the fullness of thoughts they had while their love was alive.

Furthermore, Annabel Lee does not follow any set pattern for how many lines its stanzas contain. This is befitting the content of the poem, which discusses how the love between the speaker and Annabel Lee went against the expectations and desires of everyone, from "her high-born kinsman" to even "the angels in Haven above" and "the demons down under the sea." Both the stanzas and the love story refuse to adhere to guidelines.

Above is an image of Edgar Allen Poe, and below is a depiction of Annabel and the sea from the poem.

Ferris Bueller

 Even though it released in the late 1980s, Ferris Bueller's Day Off is still an iconic comedy movie, and a large part of the credit for that goes to the hilarious main character, Ferris Bueller.

Firstly, the metatheater nature of the movie is striking. Not many shows and movies at the time broke the fourth wall, but Ferris constantly turned to the camera to talk to the audience, like this when he tricks his parents into thinking he's sick so he can skip school. It makes us feel like we're in on his schemes, which makes the movie funnier. Additionally, Ferris changes his language level depending on who he's talking to. When he's lying to his parents, his level drops considerably as he starts talking like a child to win them over. With his friends he's at his regular level, and then when he talks to other adults he tries elevating his level to seem sophisticated. The exaggerated changes in his speech make him a funnier character.

One of my personal favorite aspects of Ferris is his wit. His ability to come up with schemes to get what he wants, like getting his girlfriend out of school or him and his friends into places they're too young for, is really funny. In addition to that, so is his ability to create good responses to things said to him. The repartee between Ferris and his best friend Cameron is fast paced and humorous to watch. Finally, Ferris uses a lot of sarcasm when he talks. It isn't overdone, or very malicious, and what result are light and funny moments.

The World Was Silent

1. The characters often say how Biafra would be further with foreign aid-- support, supplies, or even just recognition. How do you think the Nigerian civil war would have played out differently if it happened in the 2010s?

2. Ugwu's personality changes depending on his situation. With the same mentality, how do you think Ugwu would act different if he was white? If he was rich? And what about if he was Hausa or Yoruba?

3. Kainene was introduced as the ruder, rasher twin, while Olanna was introduced as the gentle and "perfect" one. How has this first impression been developed-- and possible even challenged-- through the story?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The World Was Silent

The world was judging us when we cried

When the North began firing

on its own brothers and sisters.

When our accents became a maker,

and being Igbo became a death sentence.

When the people we dined with

became the ones that sold us out.

When we watched pregnant women lying

on the ground, their bellies cut open like melons.

When we saw the bodies, bodies of family, friends, strangers, filling the streets

the world judged our tears.

The world was criticizing when we suffered

"Savages," they called us,

sitting from their perch of colonizing moral superiority.

"Uncivilized," the papers and radios yelled,

ignoring the destruction of our civilization Europe had brought.

"What more could you expect from Africa?" The white man asked,

rejecting journal articles that didn't fit the narrative they wanted.

"Will Biafra succeed?" the West questioned

as their government sent guns to shoot us, supplies to bomb us.

As we died of their oppression, pleaded for recognition, watched each other fall,

the world criticized our pain.

The world was watching when we fought

We didn't have many supplies

but we had heart, we had hope.

We didn't have any support

but we couldn't give up, because that meant death.

We got used to the shrill alarms piecing our quiet

and then running from bunkers as they rained fire on us.

We tore down social borders, opened our hearts

and helped everyone around us, because we knew no one else would.

We saw mothers cry over their sons' bodies, boys ripped off streets, forced into war.

The world watched our fight.

The world was silent when we died

Eventually, they closed us off from the world,

leaving us supply-less and starving

Eventually, the fires in us began to dim,

seeping out of the wounds we didn't have supplies to treat.

Eventually, we got used to the wailing of families

as another member fell to the weakness, to the hunger.

Eventually, we stopped fighting at the supply buildings

because there wasn't much left to fight over.

Children died, the elderly cried, and we lost our pride, and then eventually,

the world ignored our death.

Postcolonialism

 What does the text reveal about the operations of cultural difference - the ways in which race, religion, class, gender, sexual orientation, cultural beliefs, and customs combine to form individual identity - in shaping our perceptions of ourselves, others, and the world in which we live?

What I really like about my book, Half a Yellow Sun, is how different the three perspectives it provides are. Ugwu shows the world through the eyes of someone who grew up poor and is observing the wealthy. Olanna shows the inner life of the wealthy, and Richard shows the perspective of a white man. Each of these three offer unique views on the same plot.

Ugwu's part, for me, is so far the least insightful in terms of postcolonial influence (at the same time, it is also my favorite part because I love seeing how he sees the world after coming from a rural background). Ugwu's parts focus a lot on his master's parties, which reveal a lot about politics in regards to Nigeria and the Europeans. The one point constantly emphasized is how many people are unhappy with the Europeans and believe Nigeria needs to govern and advance itself, because the Europeans aren't doing a satisfactory job helping them. From reading the book's summary I know the book is about the Nigerian struggle for independence, and Ugwu's parts do the best job of painting the simmering tensions in the country.

Olanna's parts reveal class and gender in 1960s Nigeria. Ugwu found straight wigs distasteful, but when Olanna goes to visit her ex, he tells her how she looks better with wigs on, and that her naturally styled hair makes her look like a poor person. This shows that while the Nigerian upper class may dislike European colonialism, their definitions of class and beauty have still been molded by them. Looking like a white woman is considered more beautiful (in terms of features-- I don't remember colorism being mentioned). The upper class drive sports car models that are luxurious in Europe, even if-- as Olanna's ex admits-- they aren't built to work well on African roads. 

Richard's part is the one that has stood out to me the most; I found it really interesting to see how the White people regard the Africans, and the fact that Richard was just as uncomfortable as me made it easier to read. Richard's parts challenge some of Derrida's binary opposites. The man is White, while the woman (Kainene) is Black. However, Kainene is the richer of the two; Richard lives with her. Furthermore, the "colonizer" Richard is more child-like than Kainene: he is much shyer, doesn't smoke like she does, and struggles more with their intercourse. Both of them are shown to be just as rational and industrious. This sets up a nice juxtaposition where we see the White people in the book say certain things while the Black people are quite the opposite, which, once again, helps show the reasons behind the building tensions in the country.

The Creature's Poem (Frankenstein)

 The first sight I saw when I opened my eyes

was the face of my creator.

Excited to greet him, I began to rise

but upon seeing his face, I froze.

He screamed and ran away

and foolishly thinking it was a mistake, I followed.

But when I caught up, his horror-filled face kept me at bay;

upon realizing I was the cause, my heart hollowed.

Grabbing some clothing, I ran from the house in shame.

I found beauty in the world that surrounded me,

but the loneliness in my heart even the Nightingale's chirp could not tame.

 So I set in search for a place I would not have to flee.

Pity me though, because my misfortune I could not seem to rid.

I came upon a village and thought I'd found my salvation,

but they threw stones at me until I ran and hid

at a cottage that for the next year was my station.

Next to me was a family of three:

a son, a daughter, and a blind old man.

Over the next year it is from them that I was able to see

the complex range human emotions span.

I secretly learned the meaning of the things they spoke.

More importantly though,

I learned how much different I am from these folk;

It was following this realization that my loneliness once again began to grow.

Alas! I still tried to be worthy of their love.

For their friendship I tried to plea,

but what would they understand? Their creator watched them from above

while mine sickened at the sight of me.

It was then that I made up my mind.

I will too have a companion with whom I can enjoy my day!

I am a monster of your design

and until you atone for this, you and your loved ones will pay.

A Single Story's Impact

 

{Excerpt from page 237}

Easily one of the best books I've read in 2020, Sisters of Sword and Song follows two sisters with two very different- but interwoven- stories who, for a majority of the book, are on different corners of the kingdom. The author, Rebecca Ross, does a wonderful job juggling their two journeys, and she does this by using a 3rd person limited point of view narration that switches between the sisters.

The limited narration creates suspense. This book has many characters- just within this scene there's one of the protagonists, Halcyon, and the two villains Selene and Macarius. If we had insight into Macarius's mind, we would know what he's looking for as he "sweep[s] through [Halcyon's] mind." However, we're only privy to Halcyon's thoughts, and as she is doing her best to avoid thinking about the "details of the [at this point unspecified] mission," we readers still do not know what about this mission is so important that the kingdom's highest officials are obsessed with it. And then when Macarius finally finds "one particular moment" that he can take to use "against [Halcyon] and her sister," we are again left in the dark to what the moment is. If the narration gave insight to Macarius's (currently satisfied and victorious) mind, we would no doubt know what this important memory is. Since this book is a bit over 450 pages, it is necessary to not fully reveal developments every time they happen, because doing so would take the suspense out of the plot and leave readers feeling like this book is dragging out. A 3rd person limited narration helps accomplish that.

Additionally, the characters in this book are too out of it too often for 1st POV narration to give a cohesive story. Take this scene for example. Halcyon is practically getting tortured as she has her mind forcibly swept. She has "coughed blood," and is "screaming" and bruising "herself on the chains." All in all, her mental state is not very put together right now. Throughout the story, Halcyon and Evadne are constantly fuzzy-minded either because of literal torture like this, or because of hunger, exhaustion, and fatigue. If the story was in 1st person, then we would not (realistically) have half the details that we do. A 3rd person limited narration creates the intimacy with the protagonists that 1st person would, but it also provides us with details and descriptions that the characters alone would miss.

Real Estate Critiques: House of Usher Edition

 Alright, what's the name of the contestant up for judgement? The Fall of the House of Usher? Of course, I love Poe. He has a natural tendency for the verge-of-insanity-and-death vibe, very goth chic.

I do say, I'm very excited to give my opinion about this famed house. Here folks, we have a marvel of architecture. Right off the bat we can see "vacant and eye-like windows" across the whole front of the house (2). Absolutely perfect for setting up the most unsettling feeling- the feeling of being watched- even before we enter. Be sure to make note of the integrity of the structure itself! I'm no architect, but it sure gives "little token of instability" (3). What wonderfully funny irony to slip in there for English classes to laugh about after the fact. 

Moving on, let's take a minute to appreciate the biota! Make note of the craftily placed fungi which hang like a "tangled web-work from the eaves" (3). Doesn't that just so beautifully insinuate that we're about to step into some messy trap? This coupled with using fungi- a symbol of both death and rot? Brilliant foreshadowing if I do say so myself Mr. Poe. In case first timers missed the fungi though, Mr. Poe was kind enough to repeatedly mention the "decayed trees" which surround the house (1). Once again, here we see the reflection of the manor's state: dying, and on the verge of collapse. 

Thank you for tuning in folks! There sure is a lot to unpack in this building, and I'm sure we've only scratched the surface. Unfortunately that's all the time (and words) we have today, so until next time!

Romeo in the Rye

On page 124 of The Catcher in the Rye, Holden has a conversation with two nuns, one of whom is an English teacher. It's pretty inconsequential to the book overall, but during that conversation they begin talking about Romeo and Juliet- specifically, Holden's opinion of it. So of course, now I'm going to compare the two works. 

Holden mentions how Mercutio was his favorite character in the play (same here). He was "much sorrier" when Mercutio died then when Romeo and Juliet did (Salinger 124). The reasons stated are he was "very smart and entertaining," and it was "especially" horrible because his death was "somebody else's fault"(Salinger 124). Pulling my inner-Freud, I say Holden's sadness over Mercutio's death goes further than just his endearment for the character. 

The way Holden describes Mercutio here is very reminiscent of the way he describes his late brother Allie. One of the first things Holden establishes about Allie was that he was a smart kid. Not just regular smart, but "the most intelligent member in the family" smart (Salinger 43). And from Holden's descriptions of how he'd laugh at things "so hard" he almost "fell off his chair," its pretty clear Holden thought he was fun too (Salinger 44). Brains and entertainment are Holden's two stated reasons for liking Mercutio. Then, of course, there's Allie's untimely death. It didn't come from a knife, and it wasn't anybody's fault, but it was still early and undeserved; Allie and Mercutio are both killed by factors out of their control. Knowing Holden's complete adoration for Allie, it's no surprise the character he favors and grieves for most in Romeo and Juliet is the one whose life mirrors his late brother's.

I Know we are not Caged Birds (Option Five)

In her essay "I know why the Caged Bird Cannot Read," Francine Prose- very passionately- argues that the American high school English curriculum ruins literature by discussing social issues present in works instead of sticking to rhetorical analysis. According to Prose, this 'simplistic' approach to works of literature cages high schoolers, their writing abilities, and their love for English.

Well I am here to argue that Prose's method of only discussing writing techniques, along with her refusal to connect works to the larger world, is what would create the real cage.

Authors love allusions. The books that are widely read across American high school English classes are chalk full of them. The Great American Novel, The Great Gatsby, never specifically says the words 'classism' or 'the American dream,' but those are exactly the topics the book is about. To only talk about Fitzgerald's use of parallel structure or symbolism while reading the book is like only looking at exhibit signs when going to the zoo. Yes, you might've gone much further into depth on marsupials than you would've if you were just looking around. But you sort of missed the main attraction.

Allegorical works like Animal Farm- which represents the Cold War- and The Crucible- which represents the Red Scare- are a prime example of a fault in Prose's argument. Both works are widely read in schools across the country, and both works never mention the events they represent. To only focus on rhetorical devices when reading pieces like this undermines the purpose of the writings, which is to show faults in systems/events through other objects.

Finally, Prose is wrong because connecting to social issues is what makes students care about literature. Most students can't fully relate to a heartsick 20s millionaire or a lady who survived segregation and sexual assault. But they can relate to wanting a bright future, or to people being discriminated against because of their race or gender. By refusing to connect books to the larger world, Prose puts their message in a cage that only extends as far as their literal words.

Accents (Option Eight)

Accents: we all have one (or multiple if you're multi-lingual). Yeah, our jargon and our usage of grammar have a big impact on the way people perceive us, but our accents play an immense role as well. For example, most Americans view British accents as giving a person a more sophisticated air, while southern accents can make people seem less educated. 

I'm not here to preach that we should look past first impressions because everyone is special in their own way or whatever. Elementary school did enough of that, I'm sure. I'm here to express my views on language, and how I've seen it affect people.

From an evolutionary standpoint, our brains are literally hardwired to judge people within less than a second of meeting them. So in my views, there's no shame in automatically assuming less of a person because of the way they speak (hold the rage, keep reading). There is, however, immense shame in treating someone as less because of the way they speak. I've seen people who speak 'perfect' English be mocked because they have heavy accents, and it's infuriating.

Accents are so powerful that upon entering politics, past British prime ministers have exchanged their more casual British accents and jargon for those used in London (for the increased posh-points they provide). I know for a fact that often in the East, the ability to speak English with less of an accent can edge you out for a job application over a slightly more qualified applicant. I personally speak three languages, and at times- especially with the two Indian ones- I feel a bit odd because I can feel myself pronouncing words 'wrong.'

Personally, I find accents really cool. I find it really interesting when people accidentally slip a phrase from one language into another where it makes no sense. I know a lot of people who get embarrassed when they're made aware they're speaking with an accent, but it's really just a sign that they can speak more than one language. And honestly, that's a really cool thing to be able to do.

Humanity's Ongoing Witch hunt (Option Eight)

It's a play about the Salem Witch Trials of the 1690s and an allegory for the Red Scare of the Cold War, but for some reason the message the play The Crucible conveys still resonates with audiences in the 21st century. Why?

Likely because for all the progress humans have made in becoming more accepting (or tolerant) of differences, the idea of the "other" is one that has transcended throughout all of human civilization. The specifics of who The Other are have changed over time, save for one: they are disliked by those in power. Going through human history from any corner of the planet it is awfully clear that humans have never given a break to the act of hating; we simply cycle out the hated group every once in a while.

During the ancient civilizations- The Maya, The Aztecs, The multiple dynasties in China, the Mongols, the Romans- The Other were any and every outside nation. Because saying the people of other civilizations were cut from a different cloth made it seem as if the chances of them getting along with yours were slim.

If you don't like them, strip away any ideas that you may be similar to them. This was seen during The Salem Witch Trials described in The Crucible when the accused were turned into devil-sympathizes. It was seen during slavery in America when a slave was nothing more than an object. It was seen during the Holocaust in the 1940s when anyone from the Jewish to the Gypsies to the LGBTQ to the mentally disabled were advertised as a taint on society with the only given rhyme or reason being those in power said so. It carried on through apartheid in South Africa, segregation in America, the Red Scare during the Cold War, and it carries on today in the form of all those -obias and -isms: sexism, racism, homophobia, Islamophobia. The Crucible still resonates with audiences because the witch hunt that is present in the play still carries- in many grotesque forms- on to this day.

How Edwin Nazario is Batman (Option Four)

The central message in Hasan Minhaj's Patriot Act episode "why billionaires won't save us" reminds me a lot of the lawyer Edwin Nazario from the book Bodega Dreams. To summarize, the episode discusses how billionaires shirk responsibilities (such as taxes), cover up their own wrongdoings, and manipulate society all under the guise of charity. On top of that, society often overlooks the aforementioned list of wrongdoings because the guise works to raise the image of the donor in the public eye. The one example in the episode that most clearly conveyed the message to me is that of Bruce Wayne, a.k.a. Batman. The show likens the actions of many billionaires to those of Wayne, specifically in the way that Wayne Enterprises causes destruction to society by day, but that same society hails Batman as a hero by night for helping fix issues in the very society that suffers because of him. This part reminds me of the actions of the lawyer Edwin Nazario in my book Bodega Dreams. The residents of East Harlem view and treat Nazario as a celebrity, as their savior. When Chino's apartment building is set on fire, its residents are devastated until Nazario comes along, at which point their devastation turns into the willingness to do anything Nazario requests of them. At the end of the book, however, it is revealed that this fire was set by none other than Nazario himself. Similar to Bruce Wayne and the other billionaires discussed in the episode, Nazario covers up the injustices he does to society- receives praise for helping fix them even- by providing pretty words and favors. The only difference between Nazario and the billionaires is that the billionaires use their own money, while Nazario takes advantage of Bodega's.

The Great Re-rewritten Ending (Option Six)

[3rd person p.o.v.]

Lying on his mattress on his pool, Gatsby lay thinking about Nick's words. "You ought to go away" he'd said.

Gatsby hadn't even given the though a single consideration before dismissing it. Of course he couldn't leave right now. He had to be here when Daisy called so he knew what she was planning on doing.

So he knew what she was planning on doing. That last thought echoed inside Gatsby's head as he stared up at the yellowing leaves on the branches that hung above the pool. It was still early fall, so the leaves hadn't completely lost their green yet. And amidst the green and yellow were speckles of red, and orange.

It's a beautiful sight, Gatsby thought. Just like Daisy. And when Gatsby turned his head a bit to the right, he saw the branches that the leaves had fallen off of. They had looked beautiful when the leaves were there, but the leaves had finished their purpose with them and left, now leaving the branches looking scraggly and dead. Just like Daisy, Gatsby's mind repeated.

His certainty that Daisy would call him had begun to waver. He wanted to be sure of her actions before he took any of his own, but, then again, hadn't he been sure of what her actions would be yesterday afternoon? Hadn't she assured him she'd tell Tom she was leaving him because he'd never had her love? And that certainly isn't what had happened.

With all the weight of a central dogma believed to be true for five years, the realization struck Gatsby that Daisy would never be strong enough to take a decision which may possibly inconvenience her.

He should phone her. He'd phone three times, and if she didn't respond within the hour, Gatsby would put his own life first for the first time in five years.

And with that, Gatsby threw his towel in a lump on the mattress, got out of the pool, and went into the house.

It was on the 2nd attempt that Gatsby heard shots outside. Within five minutes the deed was done. Gatsby ran back outside to find his towel with a bullet hole shot through it, a body in the bushes, and a few of Wolfsheim's men looking very confused.

Nick had a lot of questions when he came back from work.

America (Option Two)

America is a country of the free
There's equal rights for you and me
We've all heard it, but we all know that's not completely true
The land I call America may be a different place for you

This sweet land of liberty
Was marred by decades of slavery
As women fought for the vote and racism ran rampant
Some of this great country's thunder was dampened

As Native Americans were dragged from their home in chains
And the Japanese were thrown into camps in the Great Plains
I don't need to recount the stories, you've heard them
The stories of oppression and bloodshed that we all condemn

America has had a rough past, and the present certainly isn't perfect
We still have certain groups suffering from discrimination and neglect
But there's still some good in us, let's discuss it
Because while we aren't perfect, we're slowly getting the spirit

Like on 9/11 when the Twin Towers fell
And emergency workers rushed in despite the yells
412 emergency workers lost their lives in the fray
And we still applaud their bravery to this very day

And the freedom of speech that we enjoy in this nation
Is an envy in other countries ruled by dictation
There's so much diversity here, and while we're still figuring out how to handle it,
Where else can you live in one town yet meet every corner of the planet?

So yes we're still improving: at least we aren't denying our wrongs anymore
Say what you might about this country, it's gotten better than before
You can't fix things you don't notice, so keep coming with the criticism
But maybe while you're at it, don't completely lose you patriotism

What to the Native American is your America? (Option Three)

[Time: the Trail of Tears, Speaker: A Native American Chief]

Pardon me dear officer, but allow me to ask. Why do you gather my men here? What do I, or any of my kinsmen, have to do with the passage of your 'Indian Removal Act?' This Act is named after us, and concerns us, but what permission from us was taken during its making? The answer is none. Are we expected to submissively give up the lands that our forefathers have spent generations taming, and express our devout gratitude for the unknown western lands your government sees itself as blessing us with?

Such will not be the case. I say it with a sad sense of disparity between us. I am not included within this nation's glories! The blessings in which you, at this day, rejoice are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, safety, and political representation fought for by your fathers is shared by you, not me. The victory at Yorktown which brought freedom and life to you has brought oppression and death to me. This United States of America is yours not mine. You may rejoice this government, I must mourn.

Fellow-humans; above your national, tumultuous joy of acquiring new land, I hear the mournful wail of millions! Whose chains, heavy and grievous, are weighed down by the knowledge that they are losing their lands, their liberties, that they have rightfully owned for thousands of moons. I must faithfully remember those bleeding children of sorrow this day, who were ripped from this world by hunger and sickness while forcefully being moved thousands of paces from their homelands.

Allow me to ask one final question officer. What, to the Native American is your America. What, to the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Muscogee, or Seminole is your America? I answer: a country of gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. Picture yourselves in our lives for just a day, picture yourselves experiencing the bombast, fraud, deception, and pain we do, and you will say with me, that for bloody oppression and revolting barbarity, America reigns without a rival.