The WEYANOKE Association: telling our own story

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Being Red & Black

Valena Dismukes

Evaristo Gaitán

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Revised 07/06/2009

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Reflections
On Being Red & Black

Evaristo Gaitán

Evaristo Gaitan

Evaristo Gaitán was born in Kansas City, Kansas and raised in a multi-cultural environment. His paternal grandparents were from Mexico, and his maternal heritage was Afro-American and Native American. All three cultures were recognized and practiced in his household. The poem below is reprinted by permission of the author.

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TAPESTRY 

Our lives make up the tapestry of our ancestors.
Freedom never rings, and integrity never sings. 

This unique fabric of time displays the tumultuous disdain 
of our forefathers.

The forbidden journey is captured historically 
in this tapestry of time,

The evil, the wicked, the ugly...

The usury by White men, Indian men, and Indian women, 
and how they reproduced while indentured in service.

The Indians cohabited with Blacks, fathered children, 
but failed to claim them.

Fashioned and shaped from the same genetic ingenuity 
full-blooded Indians usually are, 
but as unclaimed freight 
left for an auction or sale. 

If looks could kill, it would be suicide 
when King Tish-O-Mingo looks into the mirror. 
He is also looking at a freed slave whom he fathered.

The Indian blood was intertwined 
with the sap of a Black woman, 
intravenously penetrating the spindle of life, 
and the web of time. 

Disseminating from the vas deferens 
of a Native warrior's cum.

Color-coded 
chromosomally 
indigenously 
predisposed.

Looks like me, feels like me, smells like me.
A true reproduction of the fallen seed 
of a Native American warrior. 

The blood...
Overlapped...
Overlaid.
Crisscrossed...
Intermingled.
Commingled.

The shavings.
The trim.
The tiny threads.
The frayed edges are still indicative of who we are. 
The scissors of circumstance cannot cut us. 
The tape measure of eradication cannot and will not rule us - 
by no means!!!

Because we look like, feel like, smell and are like 
the Indian warriors who took the Black woman's sap, 
as we disseminated from the results of their cum. 

Double-minded, doubly indentured, and 
doubly entangled in the eyes of the Native American.

Can you see me??????
Where am I in this tapestry?
Do you know who I am?

I am the Indian thread!!!!!
I am the Indian notion!!!
I was crocheted into this tapestry 
by the Indian fathers of lust, trickery and deceit. 
My ancestors are crisscrossed here also. 

Do you see them????
Can you feel them?
Do you see their footprints?
Do you see the impressions they left behind?
Do you see the familial webs that linger? 

Patterns of yesterday, as seen today. 

Handle me with care, for I reveal a story of truth.

Don't steal one thread, or one fiber,
For this tapestry shall never be destroyed
Because these threads are indestructible,
And are forevermore.
 

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