We are reposting this poem by Peter Shepherd. There were two errors in the editing process regarding the Introduction that sneaked by so we are now republishing the work. Apologies to Peter and the readers. - The Editor.
"This is heavy truth," Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc Kukpi7 (Chief) Rosanne Casimir said on July 15, 2021.
When I wrote the poem below in early July, it was days after the Tk'emlups revelation. I immediately thought 'this is just the tip of the iceberg’ and I was clear that we would hear about more, and more. I was 100% convinced that 'thousands of small voices' were yet to be heard.
This horror resonates with the killing fields of Cambodia, the genocide of the Armenians, the holocaust of the Jews, the genocide of the Tutsis (perhaps I sense more the anguish of General Romeo Dallaire), the eradication of the Beothuk in Newfoundland, and on and on.
As a person with white privilege, I know I am pretty blind to how my status has blinded me. But this is where my consciousness, a developing one I hope, is today, so this is how I can speak.
OWNING IT
small voices
under our feet (yes yours and mine)
who worm through our hearts'
reluctance to
hear those
small voices
vibrate for us (yes you and me)
from the earth
to amplify and cry and cry
led by those
small voices
murdered (yes you and me)
by our uniformed and frocked proxies
by negligence and righteousness
stilled those
small voices
by the hands of the worst (yes you and me)
who don't repent,
but obfuscate and perpetuate
penetrate and eliminate
small voices
thousands of
small voices.
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