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The Other Ben Bear

When the trees were young,
I worked with Upward Bound,
--one of those dreadful government programs--
that encouraged promising high school kids
to consider going to college,
even if circumstances had not urged them.

A first-generation college student myself,
even late in the twentieth century,
I knew how easy it was to ignore
what were not family and social habits.

Ben Bear was from the Mesquakie Settlement,
a place in Iowa where Native Americans
acquired land for themselves after being shoved around
like pawns by the Bishops and Castles,
Knights and Kings and Queens behind them.

In our little town there was a men's clothing store--
Ben Bear--so I invented a short course called,
"The Other Ben Bear", and they were delighted
to help us let Ben learn the history of the Other Ben.

Ben Bear.  There must be a Bear Clan there;
some admiration for, and identification with,
everything that makes a bear.  Having come
from a codfish family myself, I should be glad
to show respect for anyone named Bear.

But Sparrow should not be ignored, nor Eagle,
nor Wolf, nor Farmer or MacDougal or Iron or Dog.
There are ghosties and ghoulies and three-legged beasties
and things that go bump in the night, and sometimes
respect for them means bearing their names
and treading lightly where they have walked.

There are short steps in human history
from Bear and Coyote and three-legged beasties
to saying that our gods are more like us than like a bear,
when our awareness became self-awareness
and we claimed Top Dog for ourselves.

We are the stuff of the earth, of the sun, the universe,
not only having become aware of how large it is,
but having become self-aware.
We are the universe, aware of itself.

Our gods became persons, something like us; too much.

The universe is so old, and our gods are so new!

I do not mind that people tell me what to do
because their god does not drink coffee,
or because they think women should be subservient to men,
or even that their god thinks white people are so fine,
but it does seem to me that they should not hide
behind their bear or their King of the Universe
when they say it.  After all, almost everyone
has a bear, or a king, or a coyote, or a codfish.

But the ideas and opinions are ours, worn smooth.
And even when the coyote and bear go away,
the ideas and opinions remain, to be debated;
maybe to be modified, or set aside, or affirmed again.

Else we shall have to find the old magic.
Or alternative universes.  And facts.

There may be other universes; other Ben Bears.
But until we know that as a fact,
we do know we have this one,
come to awareness of itself:  that's us.

We are asking the questions.
And if there are answers,
they are ours, too.  Up for debate.









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