Coyote Visits

Late Afternoon Sun on the LakeCoyote came by the other day. She was carrying a pup in her mouth, and a mound of books in the pack on her back. The pup was wearing a sarape. The winter has been very mild, but the day was cold.

“What do you have there”, I asked?

“I found her. She was headed over the border,” she replied.

“New Hampshire?”, I asked.

“Arizona. She was dehydrated. Carrying books home for her people. She had walked all the way from Tuscon.”

“She was walking home? She seems a tad tiny for such a long walk,” I observed.

“She’s stronger than she seems,” beamed Coyote. “Why, she crossed most of the miles near the border all by her self.”

“Ahhhh,” I said.

What about the books?” I queried.

They used to be school books. That was weeks ago before the sate of Arizona decided Native and Mestiza writers were dangerous and should be banned. Something about non-whites being proud of their traditions and heritage seemed to bother them. Then there were all those references to stolen lands and ongoing genocide. Not good for tourism.”

“Sounds familiar,” I noted.

“It’s OK for people to dance though. The tourists like that. Silver jewelry is fine, too. The state might even have a contest for best costume!”

“Your pup’s looking thirsty,” I suggested. “How about a bowl of milk?”

“Vermont cows?” Coyote asked.

 

To read a deep analysis of the Tuscon book banning visit The Real Life of An American Indian.

To read more coyote stories visit Dreaming the World.

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