Reflecting on Love (AKA Week 8 Make-Up) - Janet

I was in awe of the excellent writing in The Toughest Indian in the World, and read through many of the stories. At a certain point, though, I had to put down my book and stop reading. I’m still trying to assess why. I was reading the book before bed, and I think the imagery was almost too vivid for me to be able to handle before sleeping. I have started reading significantly more academic work lately for classes, and I think there’s a lot of power that can get lost in the style of papers and news articles.  

The story about the man who married the white woman, Susan, has stuck with me. Reading through the complexities that others force onto people in love consistently pains me. I’m a romantic sap – I always have been – and my mentality with anyone in love, ever, has been to leave them be and celebrate that love. Of course, I’m so privileged and that probably leads to my ability to feel this way… but the white brother saying something as disgusting as he did... if anyone in my family said that about another person, I would lose it. Through living in Muwekma this quarter and PSYCH103: Intergroup Communication, I’ve faded away from questioning where those thoughts come from (colonialism, racism, and all of the –isms and prejudice that comes from those).

The cheating that Susan did, and then the spiral of them both cheating on each other… that made my heart sad. I think cheating is one of the worst things that someone could do to me. I haven’t interrogated why I subscribe so much to established monogamy in my life, but if a partner and I commit to a monogamous relationship I firmly believe in keeping that. Promises are incredibly important to me, especially ~the pinky swear~, because all that holds the commitment to keep it are words and trust.

Now is probably a good time to talk about my family. My family and I have a really interesting relationship. They (we? Oh gosh I’ve been trying to go against how I was raised, but until I do anything substantial consistently maybe I should say we?) do not seem to say anything overtly racist, but are very complicit in the system. And a lot of the beliefs both sides of my families hold are very archaic and rooted in our colonialist roots. One of my aunts asked me if I was culturally appropriating by living in Muwekma, and I responded that I hoped not, but that I don’t know.

That said, I’m continually so thankful to live with y’all. So much. My heart swells with love and honor and pride and everything when I talk about living here/you all outside the house. Thank you again for welcoming me <3