Bring me your war wounds
Collect every party you’ve ever survived as a child
Pool every racist slur hurled at you from privileged mouths
and the times you stood tall in spite of
Pluck the times a teacher graded you before you even sat down
and you proved them wrong
Bring me the close encounters with power hungry police…
The times where liquor was more abundant than hope
and you still chose the latter
Gather the nights you went to bed hungry
Hand over the diploma that you raised to the sky
Pick up the parts of you that you’ve left behind on dirt roads without names
Bring me your motherless, fatherless nights where you only had Creator and ancestral
stars for guidance
Place them all before me
And I will fashion you the finest head dress
Because warriors still exist
In contexts such as this
I have been thinking about Headdresses after my brothers girlfriend said she wanted one so that she could do a photo shoot in it or wear it around. She is a full blooded Indigenous woman and I asked her if she knew what wearing a headdress meant or how they were earned. To the best of my knowledge a headdress was earned feather by feather for acts of bravery, courage, honour and valour. A headdress was made once enough of these moments were gathered.
I imagine these moments today, in the lives of people I know and youth I have worked with, and I see these moments fought in every day scenarios.
Reclaim the warrior.