It’s been a year and some that October 7^th happened. I can’t say that that fateful day sent the world reeling in the right ways, but it shattered worlds, and sent reeling the worlds of some of us in all sorts of ways – especially relational.

When October 7^th happened, I cut off my braid.

The world has been out of balance ever since, awfully so. Instead of condemning the massacre in the most stringent ways possible, there have been justifications and even celebrations right away leaving the dead killed a second time before their bodies were even cold, those mourning whipped for their tears, and the kidnapped held guilty for their own abduction.

I’m not yet sure which loss affected me most, or took me the longest to digest: was it friends, was it the queer community, or rather, the trust I had put into it, and now not being able anymore to see the queer community as a safe space thanks to “Queers for Palestine” and the likes? 

I think what shocked me most was the reaction, coupled with antisemitism sometimes disguised as antizionism that came from the indigenous community.

I am myself both Native American (ᏣᎳᎽ – Dawes rolls, and some other heritage) and Jewish. Being Indigenous and 2S has been who I am for so long, doing activism and some education work here where I live. It was in my childhood and teens, and after a difficult marriage, I reconnected again. 

How big the shock to see the way in which native friends, acquaintances, content creators and influencers as well as organizations started to react and act: First celebrate the resistance, resistance is justified when people are occupied, but then Jews are colonizers, colonizers lie, none of these happened – no rape, no killings of families etc, decolonization is violent, Jews are not indigenous, then again it’s “only the Zionists” – or is it the Jews? And whoever speaks up is insulted, ostracized, or has their being Native questioned, is mocked, ridiculed, attacked. By all or just a loud few that make themselves look like they are the majority? Hard to tell. But by a large enough crowd.

I felt lost and cut off and not safe anymore in those spaces.

How was I to handle that? I didn’t cease to be Native, and yet…

I pulled back from a lot of spaces as I needed time to process. I only kept contact with some dear friends, elders, close people. It took me a year to get out of that kinda shock induced paralysis. 

For a people, and peoples, to whom all life is connected, to whom women are sacred, to whom walking in beauty and balance is of value, who value freedom, justice and truth, celebrating the slaughter, rape and kidnapping of innocents, especially women is not our way. And suddenly twisting narratives and turning an indigenous people into colonizers is not upholding truth, but twisting it, and does not serve anyone – except those who have done the murdering, raping and kidnapping. It also does not serve those Palestinians whose sole wish it is to live peacefully on the land on which already their parents lived. They may not be indigenous, but they have been there for some generations, being stewards of the land as well. The land doesn’t belong to us; we belong to the land, and it is big enough for all – just not for those who wish to murder us relentlessly. Voices such as Ahmed Fuad Alkhatib or Hamza Howidy -who have both lost so much in Gaza- who seek peaceful co-existence of our peoples, and not fanning the flames of hatred worldwide, are welcome.

Looking at the present situation of Native Americans, and closest historical parallels, what does Vine Deloria compare it to in his book “God is Red”? He finds to closest parallel to the present condition of the Native Americans in the Diaspora of the Jews, having been chased and scattered from the original homelands yet having always maintained a strong scholarly and spiritual connection to it despite their exile through their ceremonies and beliefs (Deloria Vine Jr., God is Red, Fulcrum Publishing 2016, p. 250). If Jews (“Zionists”) were colonizers, this wouldn’t be possible. 

The wounds of the colonization of the Americas run deep, and they still bleed today. But they mustn’t be taken out on the wrong people just because others call them colonizers because of unresolved guilt.

It took me a year to put back on my turquoise and silver jewelry and pearls and feel that joy and pride. It took Creator’s love, time to calm and heal, friends and elders like Elisi Simone. I’m also grateful for other wonderful, inspiring and courageous Indigenous-Jewish women: Noni Shaney, Lani Anpo, and some others. Especially Noni and Lani, who are both going strong their own way, being examples. Thank you so much for who you are and what you do!

It took me a year, but yesterday, when I put on my jewelry and my gorget, it felt good. I felt good. Finally, again.