I’ve actually been wondering this most of my life, but the current uproars and upsets have me wondering even more. Different races have traded places in the “we got screwed” category. Initially, they were all different whites. The English, Irish, Scots, Germans, French, Scandinavian, et. al, took their turn in the barrel. Being all-white allowed for them to eventually become just American and carve out their piece of the pie.

Then, the powers that be screwed it up by forcing people from another country to come to America. This came complete with what they could and couldn’t do. Mostly the latter. Not much room for dreams. They were called Negros on a good day and Niggers on a bad one. Here’s one of the bonuses they got—they got to pick cotton. And a whole lot of other menial labor. My bet is you have no idea what that’s like. If I put a gun to your head and said pick, you would say shoot. The cotton picker had to be invented. Otherwise, no one would be growing cotton ‘cause no one would be picking. But this isn’t what I have been wondering about.

All these visitors I might mention, were late-comers. The hundreds of American Indians were already here. No real estate deals have ever been as big a screwing as was handed to the American Indian. They were here first. They took care of the land and its resources. Yet, they were the villans. They were forced to fight. They were out-gunned, they were forced to live on reservations that were some of the worst land ever. We passed legislation that placed them in living conditions that sucked. Completely losing their dignity.

Through elementary school and high school I never had a single American Indian classmate. Never played with one in high school or college. In 1959-60, my 2nd year in the NIBL, I played with Chief Williams, a fine player from Centenary College. (Have no idea what his given name was.) Very quiet with little to say about himself. I knew who Jim Thorpe was and that is about all. All I ever heard was the things that didn’t work about Indians. It was clear that meeting an Indian by accident wasn’t likely.

A culture that was called savage. What if we started treating them appropriate to a founding nation? What if we started treating each other with respect and learning what each of us might have to contribute? Why don’t we ask them what offends them and sTop doing that? Being an Indian Chief is a big deal. You know, totally in-charge.

Hee’s a fact we could work from. Everyone on the planet woke up this morning wanting their life to work. I don’t mean they know how or should know how to do that. I am sure some are convinced that no matter what they do it will never happen. That doesn’t mean that they don’t want it. Resignation is very thick for some folks. Parents work their asses off to have their children’s lives work. They mostly fail because it isn’t their job.

I think that we have a faulty context for our lives from the start. When we feel it isn’t working our operating mode becomes “something’s wrong.” We go to the mantra of the “victim.” If we only would just take responsibility (not blame) for our circumstances, and that we had something to do with it. Life is always a perfect picture of our relationship to our circumstances. The problem is we attempt to find a solution alone. How about including the people around us and find out what they see?

We think that means we are grown up.

All performance is a function of what you see. If you have a big rock in front of you, do you think that you see the path beyond? Nothing is wrong. It’s always a perfect picture. Having it be wrong makes us a victim. Victims are helpless. Honor that and find people to help you see what’s on the other side of the rock. We don’t have to walk alone.