Orphaned transracial international ungrateful insurgent Class Bastard.
"You know the saddest thing I ever saw? When the army pacifies a Native tribe, they take the children away. They cut off their hair… they give them new names. John Smith, William Sherman. Then they ship them east to boarding school.
That’s not the worst. Sometimes a John Smith or a William Sherman would escape, and make it back to their home tribe.
Well, they’d forgotten their language. Their stories. They are unwelcome. So what do they do? They don’t fit in either world.
….So what do they do? They roam. And they die."
"Possession," Penny Dreadful
Penny Dreadful is trash (and not in the arch, knowing way it tries so hard to be)— this scene’s impact is gutted by its equation of genocidal mass child abduction with the personal problems of a white European character who also doesn’t “fit in either world…” /eyeroll
Shitbrained equation redacted tho, I find this the most striking articulation of abduction industry ethnocide I’ve seen from mainstream media.
"In one often repeated story, a Native American girl in Oklahoma raises her hand when the teacher asks, “Who here can speak a foreign language?” She replies: “I can. English,” incurring the teacher’s disapproval. Yet for her—indeed, for all Native Americans—English is a foreign language. The power of their native tongues has lingered all over the land, as shown in rivers such as the Chattahoochee, Monongahela, and Susquehanna. Rarely do newcomers rename rivers; they merely mangle the old pronunciation. For instance, in Ojibwe misi-ziibi means “Great River.”"
"Good afternoon. I am Mavutaseuv, Indian Girl with a Different Face. I am known as Diane Millich, and I am a citizen of the Southern Ute Indian tribe located in Ignacio, Colorado. When I was 26 years old, I dated a non-Indian, a white man. After six months, we were married. My non-Indian husband moved into my house on the reservation. To my shock, just days after our marriage, he assaulted me. After a year of abuse and more than a hundred incidences of being slapped, kicked, punched, and living in horrific terror, I left for good. During that year of marriage, I called the police many times. I called our Southern Ute tribal police department, but the law prevented them from arresting and prosecuting my husband because he was non-Indian. The county sheriff could not help me because I am a Native woman and the beatings occurred on tribal reservation land. After one beating, my ex-husband called the tribal police and the sheriff’s department himself just to show me that no one could stop him. All the times that I called the police and nothing was done only made my ex-husband believe he was above the law and untouchable. My ex-husband told me, ‘You promised us until death do us part, so death it shall be.’ Finally he arrived at my office armed with a gun. I am alive today only because my coworker pushed me out of harm’s way and took the bullet in his shoulder. For this crime he was finally arrested. But because he had never been arrested for any of the abuse against me, he was treated as a first-time offender. The state prosecutor and him reached a plea agreement of ‘aggravated driving under revocation’. If the bill being signed today were law when I was married, it would have allowed my tribe to arrest and prosecute my abuser. When this bill is signed, The Violence Against Women Act will finally reach Native American women like me."
Diane Millich at the signing of the reauthorization of the Violence Against Women Act March 7, 2014 [x
] (via nitanahkohe