The way I see it is that I, and my family as well as anyone whose ancestors aren’t natives of America, were given a great opportunity to live in America. My family moved here to flee oppression, and chase a dream of freedom and chance. After visiting Ponemah, I have to wonder how distressing it would be to be shuffled around, and eventually allotted small plots of territory to set up your own rules and laws within a larger society that is so tempting. I mean, almost all the poorest towns in the US are Native American reservations, and the people who live there seem comfortable and happy, but to live with such limited opportunity, when the opportunity for progress is just a drive away must be conflictual. Yet, to leave one’s reservation would feel something like treason, and to stay is what Oprah would call social determinance.
Ponemah sits on the very boot of land protruding into Red Lake. Sure, the scenery is idyllic, but there is no industry in Ponemah. Even if the people receive some kind of government funds or reparations, it’s only enough to last from hand to mouth. You’d have to leave the reservation to really get beyond the dangling carrot, and even then, you face the worse sorts of social stigma. I do not think that the community is doomed, but it is clearer to me that we are all faced with unique challenges. Sometimes, overcoming them is never easy or forgiving.
Maybe that’s what I sought after: to find a place that physically represents what I sometimes feel inside.
No comments:
Post a Comment