Eyes

It hasn't rained much this year.
The angels must have less to cry about.
But the oceans have become deeper from the tears of humans.
Has God forsaken us?
One must wonder in this world we live in.

So my friend is doing this documentary on her families stories from El Salvador and it really makes me want to learn more about my family history.

My grandparents immigrated here from Poland to Chicago.
When I read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair I couldn't help but wonder if that's what it was really like.
I know they shortened our last name from Pawlachek to just Pawl because it wouldn't be that obvious that they were immigrants.
Americanization.
I know both my grandpas served in the military.
Along with my uncle, and he had some wicked paranormal experiences in his life.
I know my great granny was a Rosie the Riveter during the Great Depression.
I know we are related to the Presley's (you know, Elvis) through marriage.

I need to ask questions.
They won't be here forever.

My mom's side of the family has their history laid out in The Book of Jones.
And my great uncle is really into tracing our family history.
But I just don't ask.

When I asked my mom about our Native American blood, she told me things that I never knew.
So I know for sure I am 1/16.
My great great grandmother was full Creek Indian and married a white man.
So my grandpa's father was half.
This can get so confusing sometimes.
My great granny used to take my mom and her brother to reservations so my mom was exposed and she said when she was little she was always interested in learning about Native Americans.
And she told me we hadn't traced it yet, but that they were always told that we had Cherokee blood.

When I was little my mom would expose me and my sister to Native American culture and I loved it but I never fully knew the meaning.
It was just exciting.
And I loved hearing the stories by the elders at the campfire.
That was always my favorite part.
Native Americans have some damn good storytellers.
Oral tradition.
Something that has been lost in this generation.

I've always felt a connection to this part of me.
I have great reverence for it.
It's a part of me that needs to be explored more.
I used to be hesitant in telling people because I look fucking Aryan.
My Polish genes shine through physically.
And sometimes when I tell people, I can see the judgement in their eyes.
But I'm proud of it.
Culture is not skin color.
Native Americans are a strong people.

I regret not exploring it more but now is never too late.

I think my spirit animal is a bluebird.

Oh! And my mom's side of the family owned slaves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FUCK!
Southerners.
I asked her if we had African American blood but she said no.
However, rape was a common weapon.
So I might have some black family members out there.

Essentially I believe we are all family, but it would still be cool.
Not going to lie.

I see many learning experiences before me now.