RFD 182 Summer 2020

Page 12

One Small Faerie Step By White Eagle

A

t times the Breitenbush Winter Gathering makes me feels like I am a cow at a family reunion in a slaughterhouse. But I’m getting ahead of myself... Side note: I am roughly sixty percent Indigenous American and forty percent white; I was given up for adoption and placed in an all-white home; there were very few people of any color, other than white, in school or church. I remember one black man in our town of 3600 people. Everyone called him “Blacky.” As an adult I learned that my hometown had once been a “sundown town,” where black people were arrested if found on the street after sunset. My Mormon church taught me that the color of my skin was a curse brought about by the misdeeds of my ancestors, and that if I lived a righteous life the curse might be lifted and my descendants would be born “light and delightsome,” My father taught me that Indigenous folks where drunks and lived off welfare. I was raised to assimilate and ignore my Indigenous heritage. I was trained that white was better. I developed a kind of racial dysmorphia: I was brown but thought I was white. In my late twenties when I started to connect with Indigenous folks, I was told that “I need to learn how to talk Indian, because I sounded too white,” A while ago... maybe five years ago. I was at the Breitenbush winter gathering. It was populated by predominately white male-ish folks, over 150 white or white passing/looking folks - and maybe four folks who definitely looked not-white-passing. This was the typical composition of Breitenbush gatherings of the time. Side note: I mostly pass as non-threatening whiteadjacent, i.e. white folks in liberal areas treat me as a “safe” minority; in conservative areas I am treated with suspicion. And shopping in the South, I get followed around by the store security. Breitenbush winter gathering is a concentrated gathering, four and a half days, and it’s cold and snowy outside, and the main lodge becomes a central hive. It’s a fair bit overwhelming, all that faerie magic crammed into a tight container of a not-thatbig mountain lodge. At times it feels like I am a cow 10 RFD 182 Summer 2020

at a family reunion in a slaughterhouse, waiting in line. It’s hot, all your old friends and some fresh meat are there, it’s crowded, and you’re both excited and scared. There’s a guy in a cowboy hat pulling your ponytail, the doors are about to open, and you’re sure something is going to happen but you’re not sure if it’s a good thing. Side note: Breitenbush, i.e. “BB,” is off-grid. Everything is heated with geothermal steam heat. The windows get sweaty, it’s warm and moist inside but cool and moist outside, the no-talent show always goes on too long, and you’re not supposed to have sex in the hot springs, but whatever... It’s the first afternoon, everyone is arriving and settling in. Through the cackles, screams of delight and hellos, I see a new overwhelmed face across the packed lobby. They were literally the darkest queen in the room, and they look like they just got hit by a stun gun. I try to reach them to say hello, but I get distracted by a hairy faerie in a “Nasty Pig” union suit and glittered cowboy hat who grabs my ponytail, telling me he wants to go on a horsey ride. I’ll find the overwhelmed queen later, I think... Side note: “Nasty Pig”-whatever-boring-yawnposer: You don’t need a logo to be a pig. #youpaid120foraunionsuit? I missed the Overwhelmed Queen, and for the next couple of days I looked for them. BB has the central hub of the lodge, but it’s still a large camp with cabins, hot springs, out buildings: It’s easy to lose track of folks. For a couple of days, I’m looking, and finally I start asking around, and no one knows who I’m talking about, even though they were so distinctive. FINALLY, someone knows who I’m talking about, and the Overwhelmed Queen left two hours after arriving. I was told he got there and just felt “the gathering wasn’t for them...” I went to heart circle the next the day. I didn’t go with the intention of saying anything. I sat there looking into the loving and well-meaning faces, there were about 60 folks present -- all of them looked white.


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Articles inside

RFD 182 Summer 2020

1min
page 63

Closed Community: Dealing with the Coronavirus by Bambi

6min
pages 8-9

Finisia Medrano November 7, 1956–April 3, 2020

2min
page 62

RFD’s Legacy Now Online

2min
page 64

Against Social Distancing: A Call for Social Solidarity in this Time of Physical Distancing Seth Holmes

5min
pages 60-61

A Letter to My 18 Year Old Self Isaac Tommson

3min
pages 50-51

medicine for white witch madness Lapis Luxxxury

1min
pages 48-49

Bromancing the Rookie Roofer Wes Hartley

4min
pages 55-57

Back to Africa and the Mother City Miqhey Miqxtja

1min
pages 46-48

Black Men Who Love White Men Pioneer

1min
pages 52-54

Once Upon an African Faerie Mother Nateur

5min
pages 36-37

Recollections from GG 3: Third Global Gathering in South Africa Theoklymenos

5min
pages 38-45

Embracing the World Eden

4min
pages 20-22

Hot Oil and Gold or, How We Got Here Lapis Luxxxury

11min
pages 16-20

Gryphon Blackswan Speaks Rosie Delicious

3min
pages 28-30

Someone Who Looks Like Me Pioneer

2min
pages 31-33

I want to see the real boys Isaac Tommson

1min
pages 14-15

Prancing in the Streets as a Queer POC Kwai Lam

10min
pages 25-27

One Small Faerie Step White Eagle

5min
pages 12-13
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