PicoBlog

Here's a bright moment involving Rez Dogs and a public high school classroom this week, but I need to briefly preface first.

Preface:

I've taught for eons at a large public high school in a state which recently passed legislation mandating further teachings of our state's Native histories and heritages. Unfortunately, for the same reasons Mr. La Tray shares here, this instruction has been a mandated slide deck to be used once per week by all teachers. It's...groan-worthy at best. But, because the language arts work I do with cherished colleagues goes far deeper and is less patronizing (we hope), we've been incorporating Rez Dogs epsidoes for the last couple of years when we have 10th graders examine texts through the critical lenses of race, gender, and social class. ALSO, you need to have a good handle on the Season One episode "What About Your Dad?" to really enjoy this bright spot.

THE BRIGHT HAPPY SPOT:

This involves two students.

The first we'll call X--he's new to the school this year, and is a goddamned fucking delight of a human being. He's shining light of intelligence and humor. He's vocal about figuring himself out in a cultural and racial sense--he's "half Ojibwe and half Black and half white" and says "I know...I'm learning about Indian math." He is beloved by all.

The second we'll call J--he's a very serious and stoic Mexican American kid. It's difficult to know when he's joking and when he's not. When he IS, you know you're in the presence of comedic genius. When he's NOT, it's because you somehow insulted either his grandma (I adore this woman) or his girlfriend and he will not hesitate to lay you out FLAT and you probably had it coming. He is respected (and a little feared) by all.

Scene (the day after "What About Your Dad?" and everyone has "Greasy Greasy Fry Bread" stuck in their heads:

J: (walks in mumbling) "fucking mother fuckers better leave my bitch alone I need to get paid so I can get the fuck out of here"

X: Hey J! Man! You are giving off some serious Punkin energy today! Better be careful or you'll forget how old your future son is!

J: What the fuck you say to me?

X: It's okay bro...my dad actually IS an Indian rapper and pretty much all his songs sound like "Greasy Fry Bread". He DOES know how old I am, though.

J: Bro. My cousin is trying to be a Mexican rapper and it is awful. I feel this pain.

(walks over, dabs X up)

Blessings on you, man.

Postscript:

Thanks, Mr La Tray, for both this writing and the related one that preceded it. Your kind and thoughtful words about teens and their teachers/schools does not go unnoticed. We appreciate you very much!

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