Posted in crossroads, Developmental disability, disability rights, family, from the bone, Okies, Self-advocacy

Crossroads #03 (Self-Advocacy Sunday)

A walkway leads out into a desert within pink sand, with a sign with arrows pointing both directions sideways. Letters matching the pink sand read "Crossroads."
Crossroads in the California desert.
A small area of forest in California's Siskiyou Mountain range near the Oregon border. This being the cemetery where my father was buried according to his wishes -- in just a pine box and shroud with no funeral ceremony.
Small California mountain forest cemetery that contains my father’s bones.

Dear Cheryl,

The bones of my Okie ancestors
Lie in the cemeteries
Of Wasco
Of Shafter
Of many towns
Throughout Tulare and Kern Counties
The rest of the San Joaquin Valley
Stretching back
To Oklahoma and Arkansas

A collection of Baggs gravestones from mostly San Joaquin Valley, California cemeteries.
A collection of Baggs gravestones from mostly San Joaquin Valley, California cemeteries. One (upper right) is my dad’s in the Siskiyous.

The bones of my Okie ancestors
Dance to a country beat
And my living bones
Dance in resonance
Without trying

Most people understand this
At least in part
Most people
Most people understand
The ties of blood
This kind of ancestry

Dry grass hills and trees outside Bakersfield, California. I feel these hills in my bones and there are bones in hills like these.

Even if they can’t feel their bones
Shaking the yellow-grass California hills
Bothering the roots of the lone oak trees
Living endlessly forgotten
Under converted deserts
And redwood forests
Manzanita and madrone
Mudslide and earthquake and fire

These are the bones in my life
You are most likely to understand
So they are the first I will hand you
Please think hard about them
But don’t forget
To listen in your own bones
For the song

The other song.

Spoken from the bone,
Mel

Author:

Hufflepuff. Came from the redwoods, which tell me who I am and where I belong in the world. I relate to objects as if they are alive, but as things with identities and properties all of their own, not as something human-like. Culturally I'm from a California Okie background. Crochet or otherwise create constantly, write poetry and paint when I can. Proud member of the developmental disability self-advocacy movement. I care a lot more about being a human being than I care about what categories I fit into.

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