A beautiful day in the neighborhood
By Matsu Momii
A beautiful day in the neighborhood. Radical redistribution of wealth. Thursday, July 29th, POOR unTOUR CONTINUES in Ute, Cherokee, Arapaho, and Cheyenne Native lands. Sharing prayers and dansa with ceremony to Mother Earth. New Raven, the Owl, and Eagle honor the spirits of our ancestors, our families, the children lost to boarding schools across Klanada and Amerikkka, lost in detention centers, sold across the world, permanently disconnected, and tortured by colonizers. Local brothers and sisters joined the UNtour that went through everything from wealthy residential neighborhoods visiting an Assisted Living Apartment building ($7000 a month) to a real estate salesman in a mall who called SECURRRIIIITY!!! to folks who were way cool and supportive. Hearing the drums at Cherry Creek, local resident Rebecca was feeling low, but swelled with emotion. She joined the tour, walking and talking with us and even bought a case of water for everyone on this 95 degree day.
Youth Poverty Skolaz paid tribute at Cherry Creek in Confluence Park, so called Colorado. Tibu and Amir remembered the children of tribes from Ute, Arapaho, and Cheyenne who played in this river. Children were stolen from this river and forced into boarding schools where thousands were killed and have been secretly buried. Dansa and prayers throughout the years, reaped discovery of their little loved ones, unearthing the centuries of murdered children.
The drums of Poor Magazine Prensa Pobre Danza Azteca called local residents of Denver to the ceremony for Stolen Indigenous Lands UnTour. Underneath the miles of concrete and high end housing is sacred and spiritual earth and waterways once inhabited by tribes of Ute, Arapaho, and Cheyenne. Practicing respect and trade, the area of Cherry Creek is still a place of sacred interaction, crossing all lives.
It was so hot, dry and farmland forever. How could anyone be forced to live here? The Amache Japanese Concentration Camp made me think of mom and dad, family at Tule Lake. It makes me cry returning to places of pain.