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In praise of self‑destructive behavior
Pretending not to notice self‑destructive behavior rules the day. More than that, it's the rule. A politician who criticizes a system that rewards, supports and, thereby encourages self‑destructive behavior will be censured. An employee who tells a coworker they ought not to indulge certain vices is admonished for intolerance and subject to discipline.
Instead of telling a friend or family member that they drink too much, we implore them not to drink and drive. Instead of telling female coworkers that it's not okay to sleep around, get pregnant and become a single mother, we buy gifts for the baby shower. Instead of getting after gay male coworkers who have hundreds of sexual encounters, we protect the privacy of those who spread HIV. And to say anything at all about a person being over‑fat goes beyond the pale.
The list of negatives that our ultra‑liberal society has transformed into positives grows longer by the day. To facilitate this, the progenitors of political correctness first transformed virtues into vices. To have the eyes of an eagle, soaring standards and a stout heart are no longer lauded, but lamented. Professor Kingsfield, icon of The Paper Chase, would today be disgraced for intimidating his students. In his place, we find champions of uncertainty, who employ arguments that more closely resemble arcane spells to mutate freedom into anarchy, culture into chaos, and religious faith into a crime against humanity. It's no longer enough to behave with sensitivity, we must also abandon any standards that are deemed to be insensitive.
America, the Great Reservation
Hence, in the name of sensitivity and tolerance, we stand and watch, sometimes even applaud while those around us self‑destruct. This is insane. We have confused tolerance with agreement, and we have replaced real expressions of care and concern with approval for behaviors that harm us both individually and as a society. Nowhere is the injury this inflicts more evident than in Indian country.
Ten generations ago, before the epidemics of smallpox, typhus, measles and other foreign diseases swept in devastating waves across the land, our communities were both mystical and pragmatic. Living in societies less centralized than in Europe and less prosperous than today, we could not afford to pretend that sloth was a virtue or that uncertainty would lead us to truth. Salmon would not swim into our villages because we wished them to. Elk would not lay down at our feet because we needed them to. Camas would not grow in dense forest because we believed they should.
We had to greet the salmon with weirs and spears. We had to hunt the elk with knowledge and certainty. And we had to burn the forest to create meadows for the camas to grow. Not that these pragmatic, goal‑driven tasks diminished in any way our mystical understanding of person, place and time. The silly assertions of Breatharians to the contrary notwithstanding, we have to eat. Mundane necessities ground us.
But the mundane can also elevate us. For example, having a great affinity for blackberry, I sing to her as I gather her bounty, see through her eyes, and connect, thereby, with a greater spirit. In such ways, hunting, gathering and other mundane acts can bring us closer to the Creator.
Many of our ways are now lost to us, however. My reservation cousins were allowed few pragmatic pursuits. Apathy replaced ambition, TV took the place of tradition, and tobacco, once burned to sanctify, purify and carry our words to the Creator, is now a vice. Where other Americans were told "you can do this," we were told—I, was told—"you're not good enough to do that." But the Creator is wise, and every path provides lessons. What America forced upon Indians, it began to force upon itself. Now, much of this great nation resembles a great reservation.
Where Indian country mainly has the Bureau of Indian Affairs, the rest of America must deal with a staggering array of government regulatory, service and enforcement agencies. Modern life has become so complex, frenzied and yet restricted, that millions are now trapped in a web of requirements and responsibilities that would have overwhelmed America's founding fathers.
In reaction, most Americans look for relief in many unhealthy pursuits. From mechanically munching fattening foods while staring hypnotically at the TV, to taking prescription drugs for anxiety and depression, to alcohol, street drugs and more, Americans have been getting fatter, more dependent and less fulfilled.
To remedy this, government agencies and healthcare providers, among others, cater to the cravings, killing with kindness by treating the symptoms rather than the root causes.
Killing with kindness
Ironically, it is this kindness that prevents so many of us from confronting problems head on, by prohibiting anybody from saying anything. Hence, particularly in Indian country, fat has become a big problem.
Remember when fat was a feminist issue? Feminists proclaimed that it was a woman's right to doom herself to an early demise with too much fat, as recently demonstrated by feminist icon Andrea Dworkin, who died from a life of too little physical activity and too much fat. She was only 58.
Now, fat is an Indian issue. Only it's not celebrated as a right, but decried as a wrong. A consequence of bad food made traditional by imprisonment on reservations, and bad diet indulged in ignorance or out of depression. This is something I know a little about. My grandmother and great‑grandmother were both borderline diabetic. Diabetes is now epidemic in Indian country:
The Diabetes epidemic in Indian Country is well documented. Approximately half of American Indian Alaska Native adults have diabetes and are three times as likely to acquire diabetes that (sic) non-natives. — NIHB and the National Congress of American Indians (NCAI) Work to Secure Diabetes Funding, National Indian Health Board, August 1, 2002
It will happen to me, if I'm not careful. I'm hypoglycemic, or hyper‑sensitive to sugar, which has a way of turning into diabetes. Most people would not call me fat. But from 150 lbs, back when I ran 6 miles a day, I saw 300 lbs creeping closer on the scale not so long ago. Not from inactivity, but from too many carbohydrates and too much alcohol. Had somebody told me back then what I needed to know, would I have listened? Actually, I would. But nobody did, because it's against the rules to tell unpleasant truths. So we pretend that silence or praise is how to care when, in many instances, it's how to kill.
Rejecting, not respecting what harms our people
We should reject what is wrong or harmful. But that can get us into trouble. We can lose friends, positions, opportunities, jobs and more. So when is it okay to care? For mainstream society, my answer is this website. I express my care through my words, hoping that by sharing in this way, many people will find a way to transform my little insights into a part of their greater good.
But for Indian country, I believe it's not only appropriate but imperative that we demonstrate our care and concern without delay. We don't have to submit to politically correct constraints. Nor should we, as Jeff Weise tragically demonstrated. Every time we express acceptance, respect and appreciation for self‑destruction, we harm the whole of Indian country.
Not that we need to resort to hurtful words. Truth can be told graciously. Sometimes, it can even be told out in the world. For example, as with most offices, smokers gather in certain places where I work. Sometimes I stop to tell a few about my Aunt Rose.
On July 4th, 2001, my Aunt Rose lay in a hospital bed surrounded by my cousins. Exhausted, she labored to breath, sucking air in tiny little gasps. Her lungs destroyed by emphysema, she implored her daughters to quit smoking. And then she died. After telling this story, I put all the care I know how into my eyes and ask them, "Won't you please quit?"
Within our tribes and throughout Indian country, we need to find a good way to tell one another things that are true. To do otherwise will let die those whom we need to live.
Make right, not wrong
The need and the purpose is to help one another to find a good path. Will making people wrong do that? It can. But it's not my tribe's way. Showing care by pretending not to care is also not our way. Seeking and speaking the truth, however, that is our way.
Speaking what is true without making others wrong is hard, in America, because the mainstream culture is so infected with divisive drama that words have become like poison. This is not right for them, and it's not right for us. What I believe, is that by embracing what is right for us, for Indian country, we will make it okay—give permission, in a sense—for all Americans to do the same.
If they find a good path, it will be good. Let them have it. If all are allowed to show they care with words that are true, maybe then the dams will go, the waters will run free and salmon will find their way back home.
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