When White People Talk About Their Country Being Stolen - YES! Magazine Solutions Journalism

A Native poet takes us back to a moment of liberal outrage after the last election.

When White People Talk About their Country Being Stolen (I Throw Up in My Mouth a Little Bit)

The morning after the election results, while our country was waking up from one of the biggest hangovers of its life, John and me had the complicated and compounded misfortune of waking to the telltale sounds of what I assumed was a celebratory victory rut of our upstairs neighbors, who happened to be ardent Trump fans.

鈥淭he upstairs neighbors are going at it! A victory bang.鈥� I posted on my Facebook. Then deleted. Then reposted. Then deleted again. I have no filter.

Our neighbors have Trump signs all over the yard, a poster-sized 鈥淰OTE TRUMP鈥� sign taped to the back of their minivan, along with year-round Christmas lights and miniature American flags all up and down the concrete path to their porch. When I sprained my ankle, these same untoward neighbors gave me a walker, offered help, visited me, and sympathized with my trouble. Yes, they are good people. They know not what they do goes the refrain inside my head.

I know how to deal with Trumpsters. Their narrative is simplistic, transparent, and in my face.

What鈥檚 not so simple, what isn鈥檛 an easy-to-follow recipe are the white folks stomping through our yard in pink pussy hats and safety pins stuck to their lapels, on their way to another Saturday rally in the park across the street. These socially conscientious liberals who want their country back.

鈥淭here鈥檚 a lady kicking over the planters in the walkway,鈥� John says from the window.

鈥淪hit. Is she wearing a pussy hat?鈥�

鈥淵es. Should we call the police?鈥�

鈥淣o. Tell her to get off our lawn.鈥�

We laugh.

The Native couple raising cane at hippies who鈥檙e tearing around on their front lawn. That鈥檚 rich.

鈥淚 feel a little sorry for them. They look so lost,鈥� I say.

鈥淒on鈥檛. One of them broke our planter.鈥�

We laugh.

鈥淲e could join them?鈥� I say. 鈥淭hey don鈥檛 know what hit them. Trump is going to turn the whole country into a banana republic.鈥�

鈥淥r a reservation,鈥� John says.

鈥淲elcome! We鈥檝e got a chair for you right here at the kid鈥檚 table,鈥� I say.

鈥淲e should teach seminars called 鈥楧ispossession is a Bitch.鈥� 鈥�

We laugh. In that good way.

From the distance we can hear a woman鈥檚 voice amplified through a megaphone. In the park, a sea of pink assembled like a coral reef. We part the curtains and peer through the window as if we鈥檙e Jacques Cousteau surveying a mysterious new species.

So much pink.

If I take my glasses off, all I see is a blur of cotton candy. It makes me feel nauseous, as if I鈥檇 stayed at the carnival too long.

John takes my hand and opens the front door. We step out into the morning air and reluctantly join the parade.

鈥淲hen White People Talk About their Country Being Stolen鈥� by Tiffany Midge is from Take A Stand: Art Against Hate, edited by Anna B谩lint, Phoebe Bosch茅, Thomas Hubbard (Raven Chronicles Press, 2020). It appears by permission of the author and publisher and was originally published in Transmotion.

Tiffany Midge a citizen of the Standing Rock Sioux Nation, is the author of Bury My Heart at Chuck E. Cheese鈥檚 (Bison Books, University of Nebraska Press, 2019). She鈥檚 the recipient of a Pushcart Prize, the Simons Public Humanities Fellowship, the Kenyon Review Earthworks Indigenous Poetry Prize, and a Western Heritage Award. Midge resides in the Inland Northwest and aspires to be the first Distinguished Writer-in-Residence in Seattle鈥檚 Space Needle.