I’m so jealous

    When others call them selves Canadian I have this feeling of passionate hate rising. When I see black people getting seen and recognized I can’t help but be mad. I’m not mad because they are black, I am mad that they have what I deeply desire. I asked my mom “why can’t we have the recognition that black people have?” she told me that it’s because we weren’t seen as useful like them. The white people saw them as something useful while they saw us as nothing but a nuisance. That really hurt me to hear because I knew it was true.

I wish that my people could be treated with respect that black people are now getting. My heart hurts every day, it burns with pasted down anger and sadness. It’s a feeling that others can never understand. I can feel the anger of my noukoms and nomustoms that the white people tortured. I can feel the pain that shakes my hands, that waters my eyes rise when I see the way my people are treated and seen as.

The sadness is so intense that it makes me want to scream and cry to the point that I want to die. It would be so much better if I just killed myself, that’s the thoughts that creep into my mind. I know it’s true but if I do it will just be seen as normal for people like me. I’m not seen as human by people, they treat us as a species that’s fragile and in need of saving. People tell us who we are they say they are healing us yet do only what makes them feel better about themselves. They don’t actually care about me or my people they only care about making themselves seen as heroic saviours. They say they respect our land yet do things that destroy it. They say they’re sorry yet do nothing to heal the trauma of our past or help flourish our culture and language. 

I still have grandparents that have been through the torture of the past. 

My own mother had just BARELY been able to not go through what her mom did, yet that’s what they say. In reality she went through it. Her mom was traumatized and lost, she brought that trauma with her as she grew. My mom saw the same things her mom did just in a different way. In way that wasn’t fully her mom’s fault. She was a broken hurt and scared child raising a child.

So yes I am jealous, jealous of others that have their family. A  family that isn’t broken from the actions of the white people and a culture that everyone cares about, and yes I’m jealous of that. 

Why can’t I have that? 

Why do me and other REAL Canadians and REAL Americans get nothing.

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t Cree.

I wish I was more than just an indigenous person. 

But I am not.

I’m just indigenous..