Assimilation Blues
Paula B.

In my family's traditions we acknowledge even the sad or bad things as much as we might acknowledge the happy and good things. We don't look away from anything. We live like the buffalo and face the Tate topa (four winds).
Assimilation Blues
Grandmother, I am sad.
Come, sit. Together we will be sad.
Bowed heads, silently honoring the Sad.
Sometimes a song, sometimes a story, Sometimes silence, Breathing the Sad, Heads bowed sitting with the Sad.
The people come, Tonight we sing until the sun shows, Acknowledging Sad, its message received.
Tomorrow we laugh and eat, Honoring the Sad; continuing life. Assimilation
Mother, I am sad. Don’t be sad.
Have something sweet to eat, something pretty to buy,
Forget the Sad.
Assimilation
Doctor, I am sad. Sad is not real. Have a pill, Hide the Sad. Assimilation
Friend, I am sad. Tell me about it, details, details. Open the wound, Cleanse the Sad.
Grandmother, where are you? There is no one to honor the Sad.
Grandmother, I remember you.
Now I am Alone, with the Sad.
Alone, with the songs, Alone, the Sad grows great. Grandmother, where are you?