Tag: native american

tokenspony:

frist–xvi:

did-you-kno:

Glass Gem is a unique strain of
corn with kernels that look like
pieces of rainbow-colored glass.
Source

Carl Barnes, an Oklahoma farmer, started growing older corn varieties to connect with his Cherokee heritage. 

He isolated ancestral strains Native American tribes lost in the 1800s when they were relocated to Oklahoma.

Soon he began exchanging ancient corn seed with growers from all over the country, while simultaneously saving and replanting seeds from the most colorful cobs.

This eventually resulted in rainbow-colored corn.

When the rainbow corn mixed with the traditional varieties it created new strains, displaying more vibrant colors and patterns over time.

Glass Gem is a flint corn, so it isn’t really eaten off the cob. It’s usually ground into cornmeal and used in tortillas or grits, but it can also be used to make popcorn.

If you love corn and rainbows, seeds can be purchased online for about $7.95.

Feed me the Ｇａｙ　Ｃｏｒｎ

Eat your Aesthetic before you have desert, Johnathan

So my economics teacher is usually pretty great. he’s a really funny, really sarcastic little shit and loves bashing Donald Trump and always gets off track during his lectures but somehow still manages to get his point across and complete lessons in what is still a fulfilling and engaging way, right?? like, that funny teacher that seems like their mind has been destroyed from stress or something but they know exactly what they’re doing anyway. we all have those teachers. he also teaches AP American history and a little bit of global, but that’s not important right now.

Anyway, we were just finishing our lecture for the day and he was handing out a new article for us to write a quick cool-down summary about, y’know, basic stuff. and what does ho do?

he spoils the entire year and my slowly built-up foundation of respect and all of my mental health in one fell swoop.

so he’s talking about his work-week or something, right?? just a playful little complaining about labor and all that… and then says something along the lines of:

“y’know the trail of tears? the one andy jackson did with the Cherokees? yeah, that’s not the trail of tears. the real trail of tears is when i walk to my car in the morning to go to work.” and then quickly after that came “and the trail of happiness in when i get to go back home”

(i should mention right now that i’m Native American for anyone who doesn’t know already as if i haven’t made that obvious enough)

and like. i’m floored. such a dismissive and disrespectful comment from a history teacher?

and so i’m quietly seething and holding in my want to scream and he gets to my row of desks to give the papers and i’m right in the front so after i pass the articles back to the people behind me i ask him, very calmly

“so… you make that Native American joke to all of your classes?”

“usually, yeah.”

“you might want to be careful about that here on out”

“why?”

“there’s a Native in this class”

and theres this look of like ‘oh shit oh god whoops’ from him before i nearly lose it and have to look away because wow. i’m having a mental breakdown. in the middle of a classroom. in, like, whats supposed to be a learning environment? a safe place supposedly free of discrimination and ignorance?? and he apologizes and says he didn’t mean to offend (which does not have anything to do with the fact that it DID offend) and that he teaches history so he knows about the trail of tears and he’s educated and i’m like ??????? so you’re aware that it wasn’t just ‘the Cherokees’ that were violently, brutally forced off their rightful land to make room for white greed? that it was so awful that many natives INHERITED ptsd? no, this is NOT an excuse for your priveleged joke that is GOING TO influence the students in your classroom whether you mean it to or not.

so he retreats back to his desk and the room is quiet and i think i’ve heard comments from the students behind me about how i’m basically crying and what just went down because right then i was so focused on keeping my tears from falling on my paper and keeping my hands from shaking so much that it makes me drop my pencil until the bell rings and i pack up my stuff and he apologizes again and i’m so mentally distraught right then that i didn’t respond and that was my day as a Native American. how was yours?