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Back To School

In Prose by nativesinamerica

By Kirsten Shaw Starting your first day of school can be nerve racking. Figuring out where your classes are. Worrying about where to sit for lunch, who to sit next to. The feeling that everyone is looking at you. This time last year I was packing up my bags and traveling three thousand miles to Sarasota Florida. A  touristy, sea …

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#UpToUs

In Prose by nativesinamerica

By Joey Montoya A week ago, I never would have thought I would be caravanning cross country to Philly. Towards the end of May, Calina Lawrence, Megan Red Shirt-Shaw, and myself organized a dialogue in San Jose, CA for the #BernieBusTour with Rosario Dawson, Kendrick Sampson, and Shailene Woodley in attendance. Over 20 Native students from local Bay Area Universities …

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Dear JK Rowling: We’re Still Here

In Prose by nativesinamerica

By Loralee Sepsey I remember the first time I picked up a Harry Potter book. I was seven years old. I was in the back of our old beat up Nova that would break down a minimum of five times a year. We were driving through the rez on our way somewhere, I don’t remember where, but what I do …

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Tanka Part One: Native Representations

In Prose by nativesinamerica

By Taylor Schad It’s mid-March, I’m in the cab of my family’s Ford pickup, my mom is driving and my older sister sits shotgun, across from me is my little sister or Tanka as we say in our Native language. She’s not so little anymore – at 6’2” she towers over the rest of our family, myself included. I’ve been …

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#NativeVoters

In Prose by nativesinamerica

By Kirsten Shaw I had the chance to stand behind Bernie Sanders with my mom and I felt so lucky. I had seen him speak in San Jose but wasn’t as focused as I was today. Standing behind Bernie literally and figuratively was so empowering. To be the next generation of voters was something that gets me excited. I’ve never got this …

That One Harsh December

In Poetry by Abaki Beck

By Abaki Beck *Trigger warning: Descriptions of violence when his throat was slit who was surprised? I was surprised not by the violence or the night-call from my auntie but by his name. I hadn’t seen him since middle school I heard he started doing meth and when I hadn’t seen him for such a long time I assumed he …

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Dear Stanford Administration

In Letters by nativesinamerica

By Leo John Bird Dear Provost Etchemendy and President Hennessy: I am so tired and sad. Weeks have gone by since the faculty senate’s decision to reaffirm Stanford’s commitment to Indigenous community, identity, dignity and space. Decades have gone by since students of color have advocated for decolonized spaces on campus. Spaces that directly challenge, silence, and work against various …

For Unci Iktomi

In Poetry by nativesinamerica

By Talon Bazille Ducheneaux For my grandma Helena Harrison-Spider, Unci Iktomi. Most horror movies take place On an “Indian burial ground” I’d like to see the old cackling Lakota and Dakota boys Squinting w/cheek-to-cheek smiles Their cracked skin Covered with facial creeks of knowledge And spiritual experience Laughing When the flies filled An old Amityville house With a Scooby-Doo laugh-track, …

Respect

In Prose by nativesinamerica

By Julia Wakeford “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” We’ve all heard the phrase before, its often used to teach our children not to insult others, to keep their negative thoughts on the inside. Political Correctness functions in a similar way. It simply puts a pretty face on bigotry and stereotypes. As a …

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Privileging Education

In Poetry by Abaki Beck

my hand was cut off I stood there bleeding, crying. But when my tears dried, I convinced myself it was nothing. I am in college now, I learn things now. Yet when I return I don’t even know how to talk without sounding so damn condescending what’s wrong with you, this is your cousin I think When I return, I …