I feel like such a freak? It is 6am I am working on the computer, my coffee cup next to me and some t.v. movie playing in the background. I realize it’s just started and stop to watch. I recognize the film as one I worked on when they were doing pick up shots in L.A., I’ve never seen this part of the movie, so I watch playing my version of “Where’s Waldo?”, and look for myself as one of the Wounded Knee background Indians. Oh, I saw the huge tomahawk that I had in my hand. Yeahhh! There’s my hand! Unbeleiveable! We were there an entire day, covered in dirt, clothed in leather and fur, and huge wig and you get to see my hand. Ahhhh, the magic of Hollywood.
Now back to why I feel like a freak. From the TV, there are gun shots and screams in what I can only imagine is Lakota (which seems to be the only indian dialect that Hollywood Indians speak) and tears well up in my eyes. I can’t even tell you this story without having an overwhelming feeling to cry. An older man sits while an soldier comes up to him and say “Yeah, you’d probably eat our liver”. This is horrible. Tears are now streaming down my face.
How come when some other ethnic group get a month, a-la-black heritage month, hispanice month, their movies are of varied themes. When indian movies are shown, they are from some point in history, and always include horses, tepees and a bunch of indians being killed. Wounded Knee, Sitting Bull,