The first modern Native American activist I heard about was Leonard Peltier. Working for Indigenous rights as a leader in the American Indian Movement, Peltier was at the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation when two FBI agents arrived there in 1975. A shootout ensued. No one knows who fired the first shot. The FBI agents and one Lakota died in the exchange. Peltier was convicted of murdering the agents and spent nearly the next half century in prison.

His conviction was and remains controversial. The prosecutor admitted the government didn’t know who shot the agents. The FBI was said to have coerced false evidence and suppressed documents that might support Peltier’s innocence. National and international organizations call him a political prisoner.

Is Peltier a civil rights hero and martyr? That’s for American Indians to say, not me. There must be others I never heard of. Nor did I learn until now that Indians became citizens only in 1924, and whether they could vote was up to each state. It’s as though Indians’ place in our national story ended in the 1800s on the Great Plains.

That’s one of my problems with linking Indigenous Peoples’ Day and Native American Heritage Day with Columbus Day and Thanksgiving respectively. Far from displacing the older autumn holidays, this reinforces the image of Indians as people of long ago, with a history as victims but no modern agency. It’s as if instead of Martin Luther King Day, we had a holiday about slavery and ignored the Civil Right Movement.

My other problem is that the supposed Indian ties to those holidays aren’t real. Columbus Day was created by Italian and other Catholic immigrants in the early 1900s, not to celebrate European conquest, but to show pride at a time of extreme discrimination against them. Thanksgiving was a traditional day of gratitude long before it acquired the Pilgrims-and-Indians myth in the 1800s. Can’t we admit Columbus Day has outlived its purpose, restore Thanksgiving as a day to count our blessings, and honor Native Americans on a new holiday free of that baggage?

Of course, whether this should happen is for American Indians to say, not me.

Image: Badlands in the northern part of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, South Dakota. National Park Service photo by D. Luchsinger.

Are you a planner or would you rather go with the flow? Both styles work, if they don’t stretch to rigid or fickle extremes. I like to make at least tentative plans, which I’ll happily change unless I’ve scheduled other commitments around them. Having a default avoids the discomfort of gazing out into the void or lacking a reason to get out of bed.

I’m learning that some friends don’t appreciate hearing a suggested plan before the last minute, even if it comes with alternative plans B, C, and D. Such a suggestion seems to make them feel trapped. Apparently it interferes with joyful impulsivity. My temperament is unlikely to change, but I’m trying to keep my mouth shut longer with such folks about the possibilities and preferences playing in my brain.

Alone at home, faced with unforeseen glitches—so-and-so is running late, the delivery won’t come till tomorrow—the Taoist image of flowing water is my model of adaptability. My ideal, coming upon an unexpected rock in the stream, is to flow calmly around it. Does that mean I’m a go-with-the-flow type after all? Not really, just a planner who adapts as needed. The intent to keep flowing downhill, one way or another, feels better than flowing with no intent whatever.

Both styles work. The occasional challenge is for people of different styles to work together in comfort. And, for me, to remember when to keep my mouth shut.

Image: Photo by Michael Kroul on Unsplash. 

The warrior ethos is back – or did it ever go away? According to the U.S. Army, it includes focus, courage, persistence, and loyalty. According to the recently named War Department, it also includes misogyny, maximum lethality, freedom from restraint, and treatment of protesters as the enemy. What some call manliness, others call toxic masculinity.

Don’t get me wrong. Since high school, I’ve hated the terms feminine and masculine, which implied that having interests more common among boys made me less of a girl. I’m a fan of people being themselves regardless of stereotypes. But what if a young man feels drawn toward a self-image of traditional manhood? Must he give up that part of himself to avoid turning toxic?

Our hypothetical young man may find dictionary opposites of toxic—wholesome, beneficial, healthful, harmless—decent but hardly inspiring. He might be more energized by the classic, positive image of a man as protector and provider. He can protect his country by serving in the military, his friends by seeing them safely home at night, or his children by getting them vaccinated. He can provide by making household repairs, volunteering in his community, or bringing home an income. He has the self-assurance to share these roles with a partner or others. He has the perspective to affirm his chosen roles without demeaning the choices of others: the artist painting in his attic, the explorer in the Amazon jungle.

Not to say that men must be providers and protectors, nor that women should not. But for those who choose it, traditional manhood can be anything but toxic.

Image: National Park Service photograph

The ghosts have gone back to their graveyards. The witches have flown off on their broomsticks. At this time a year ago, the presidential election was almost upon us. This year I have friends living in fear even after the ghosts and witches have left.

Why do some scares delight us, while others keep us awake at night? The same state of arousal that prepares our bodies for fight or flight—rapid heartbeat, heightened blood pressure—can also feel like excitement, depending on context. For those who like risky adventure challenges, fear and thrill go hand in hand.

My circle of young moms long ago discussed when preschoolers are old enough to enjoy Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. Three-and-a-half? Five? I don’t recall. The point was that younger tots found Sendak’s wild things too scary, no matter how cheerfully we read to them. Adult brains, too, find some fears too intense to enjoy. I read murder mysteries, spiced by an element of suspense, but horror films I’ll leave to others.

Nature, nurture, and post-traumatic stress disorder leave some of us more fearful than others. Beyond that, some of us are in genuinely more vulnerable situations. To those living in fear right now, I can’t say you’re wrong—whether you choose to fight, flee, or enjoy the excitement.

Image: Photo by Neven Krcmarek on Unsplash.