Today the stress mounted a bit too high. Jon is teaching Native American poetry and literature in his "lit and moral imagination" class. As background, he is studying the nightside of their history and sharing the details with me. Can I just say that it's too depressing? I confess, I don't even want to know (which means I need to know). One more narrative I've conveniently avoided for years that reminds me of how wretched human beings can be to one another. He told the story of how DeSoto raped and pillaged his way from Florida to the Mississippi leaving in his wake utterly destroyed communities and communicable disease in the form of pigs. In the background to his retelling of this morbid tale, ironically, my kids were watching Disney's "Pocahontas." My word.Add to it that I spent time this morning working on my thesis paper which is about Bonhoeffer fighting the Nazis and Cone fighting oppressive white America, all while I'm reading about the Civil War in The Red Badge of Courage for my Brave Writer class... yes, I'm in a emotional spiral dive.
Two minutes ago, Jacob walked into my office with a plate of (still warm) oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. I love him.
3 comments:
I teach a unit of native american poetry, and I know what you mean about how depressing that history is. It can be painful to read ....
Oh gosh, Julie. The story of how we treated native americans is tragic beyond words. I am glad you had some milk and cookies. They certainly look good enough to eat in that photo!
Hugs,
Susan
No matter how bad things are going, there's something about homemade cookies and a glass of cold milk that makes things better:-) Sadly, the way Native Americans were treated in centuries past is something that cookies and milk can't help -- and it was all done in the name of improving our country.....
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