Family—
I tend to keep my blog posts fairly lighthearted with the occasional rants about this and that. Too often I really don’t want my thoughts out there for everyone to see. Not my real thoughts. But this post is a bit different, and as much as I hate to say it…brought about by politics.
I know…again.
It started a couple days ago when I received a text message from my sister. She was at an Obama rally in Albuquerque. It took me a moment to realize what it was, but soon I noticed the oh so familiar banners and slogans and realized what it was. I didn’t think much more about it at the time. I don’t really worry about the politics of my family, so long as there is thought behind it, not fear. My phone was on its last bit of battery and I didn’t think I had enough time for a reply–So I figured I would just email her towards the end of the weekend.
The end of the weekend came and I spoke with my mom on the phone. She mentioned my sister going to the rally and subsequently having mentioned it to my grandfather.
Let me back this up by saying I grew up in a small town in Northern New Mexico. Yeah yeah..forget your romantic thoughts of the southwest and the culture and tradition. This is real New Mexico. The New Mexico of Rednecks and Mormons, of regular racism against natives and the good ol’ boy club at its most grotesque. Everyplace has its perk though. And deep down I will always be very proud my roots in that romantic idea of the southwest, at its most tacky. Its art, culture, traditions, rich history…the list goes on. But the list is as selective as my memory will allow.
There I gained an understanding of nature, of family, of religion. None of which I think of the way you might expect. Nature is a harsh thing, a force that cares nothing for you. Family, not only those that are related by blood, but sometimes more importantly those that are there for you in times of need. Those that share common bonds and pains, not only blood. And of course religion, something that was never forced on me, something that seeps into your pores when in the southwest. The fusion of history, nature, family, pain, ritual, and love. That is my religion.
Back to that conversation with my mom, that rally that my sister attended, the response of my grandfather.
Why did she go see that n****r, I censor the word because despite my tendancy to believe a word only carries the meaning we give it, that words still carries too much meaning for me to cope with. More meaning that I want to believe is possible. At first I had the same reaction that my mom had, “oh it is just that generation”, “it’s not his fault”. I would like to accept that excuse…but I know better. I want him to say that word to my face, I want him to say that word to another of his grandsons when he is trying to make something of himself as a young black man in Farmington New Mexico. My heart breaks for him knowing that no matter the acceptance he receives on the surface, that hatred still exists, masked behind that hug when he stops by to say hi to his grandpa. Those things do not go unnoticed…they may be ignored for a long time…but they are and always will be noticed.
That is the story that has me heartbroken at the moment, the other that I faced today meant nothing other than my pity for a cousin who will always be a friend who was suckered a long time ago by a feeling of want and acceptance. I wish him the best, and I wish his sons the best and that they may find their way with him away from the hatred that their mother brings. You are always welcome in my household. To her I say only this, I will question your right to spread hate, to say it is okay for my loved ones and I to have fewer rights than you. i will always question your right to say that anyone is less than you. Despite my tears, and my lack of understanding, so to is my grandfather welcome. I hope that before it is too late he understands what those long held beliefs can cause. Words said here and there in passing can mean more than any action or expressed feeling. Words in passing all too often express the truth. Even if that truth is based in a lack of understanding or miseducation. Words that I myself still think of, age 11 or 12 when my own being was assaulted without real intention. The bearer of such words will not be shared…but are all too often thought of still today.
At the end of the day, regardless of whose rally my sister went to, regardless of her beliefs and where they take her. I am honored to have my sister, my sister who I know has been braver than I ever could in defense of those she loves. My sister who has found her own place in family and religion, I am privileged to consider her family, blood and all…and so proud that she holds so tightly to love and trust. I also am thankful for my parents that blessed us with the understanding and love to allow us our short time here as members of a family…without condition.








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