Love it or Leave it
I grew up in Oklahoma
It wasn’t anything I’d recommend
If you’ve got any choice in the matter
Sure I know, theoretically, some people choose Oklahoma
But as for me and mine
We had Oklahoma thrust upon us
Starved and coralled here
Promised this hot, flat, dry land
Like the other 38 tribes
They only put us here,
Because white folks didn’t want it
Until the day came
When the Whites who had gone West
Because they failed in the East
Found out someone else squeezed all the golden eggs
Out of the American Dream before they got to California
And by god the government had better open up the Oklahoma territory
To godfearing, white, Americans
Or there was gonna be hell to pay in the polls
Some people choose Oklahoma
Some people have Oklahoma thrust upon them
My Great Grandmother had to go before the Oklahoma State Legislature
To Buy a House inside the city limits
It was against the law
They said
It would drive down property value and introduce a criminal element
They said
In the end she got her house in town
But she paid well over three thousand dollars in 1923 money
For an empty lot
In a year when a loaf of bread cost 9 cents
So, Is that a win or a lose? I can’t tell
I grew up in Oklahoma
But I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone
Sure there were some beautiful summer nights here and there
And some magnificent thunder storms
But from the day I started school
I heard the drone of Oklahoma Values beating in my ears
“You’re different and that’s bad”
“You’re different and that’s bad”
From the teachers
From the principals and pastors
But most of all from the other children
“You’re different and that’s bad”
“You’re different and that’s bad”
It drove me half crazy
And I would have gone the rest of the way
If I hadn’t noticed they said it to everyone
“You’re different and that’s bad”
“You’re different and that’s bad”
Too Black
Too Brown
Too Smart
Too Slow
Too Gay
Too Poor
Too Different
They told me every place was exactly like this place
They told me there was no sense in leaving
They told me everything worth having was right here
They told me so many lies by the time I turned 18
I saw no point in believing anything I had not tested for myself
And so I left
And I found that people treated me better
Some place else
I found they paid me more
And better yet afforded me some respect
They didn’t cut me off
Or shake their heads
Or condescendingly pat me on the head
When I said my piece
But most importantly of all
They said
“You’re different and that’s wonderful”
“You’re different and that’s important”
“You’re different and that’s precious”
I can’t explain what happened next
Except to say there were elderly who needed me
I can’t explain except to say
I convinced myself my child’s perception had exaggerated the worst
It hadn’t
The drone of my childhood had become a full blown anthem
They played from loudspeakers every morning
“You’re different and that’s bad”
“You’re different and that’s bad”
Like a call to prayer for consumerism and conformity
Ringing out from the Churches and the Mall and the High Schools
And my my stomach churns with guilt that I have brought my children here
Where even the misfits mirror back the cruelty that is shown on them
“You’re different and that’s bad”
If you don’t live you’re life like a character from TV
There’s no place for you here
“At least I have a happy homelife” my third grader said of his bullying
“It’s normal” his teachers all said
Not because they were cruel people
But a fish seldom knows when it’s wet
They had learned the most important lesson of Oklahoma
“You’re different and that’s bad”
There can be no tolerance of the slightest deviation
People sneer at anyone making 20 cents an hour less than they do
Kneel down in starry-eyed worship to anyone making that magic 100,000 a year
Money is the only thing that trumps Blue-Eyed Crew Cut Jesus here
They like Ndns as long as it’s a mascot or a football star
And 99 out of a hundred whites claim a Cherokee grandmother
But the only thing they know about Ndns is that they live in a different part of town
Oh they are happy to honor their neighbors by wearing a warbonnet from the Love’s giftshop
Make nasty jokes
Or tell spooky stories
Or put a tortured Ndn on a school spirit ribbon
Or put up some ugly “End of The Trail” piece of dreck on the wall of their business
But don’t ask them for respect
And don’t expect them to know anything more about the Kiowa, Comanche, and Apache than someone from in Connecticut
Because if the Governor isn’t going to do it
The man on the street sure isn’t
A woman tried to open a coffeehouse in 2003
Plain clothes cops sat in unmarked cars across the street
Accused the Goth kids who hung out there of being a gang
What did they fight over, eyeliner?
But the cops said she was missing permits
She couldn’t have any more musical entertainment without the proper permits
Said her faucets were the wrong size
Even though she’d checked with the city hall from the beginning
The city Hall said they didn’t issue that permit to anyone anymore
Hadn’t issued one in years
Did that mean she could she have music without the permit?
No, it did not.
She couldn’t afford a lawyer
And the ACLU had more cases than they could handle and a backlog of more
And they didn’t have funds for all the cases they did have
Meanwhile at the park
I heard a respected organizer say
“See you advertise it as a show, not as a Christian show
By the time they figure it out you’ve already got their 5 dollars”
“What about permits?”
“Tell ‘em at the city hall it’s for a Christian Show, they won’t give you any trouble”
You can’t vote the corruption out
Poll workers get the print outs of ballots cast
But they never match up with the results printed in the paper
Democrats show up to vote
And find their party suddenly switched
Without knowledge or consent
And no recourse or explanation offered
During the last presidential election two dozen people I know
Were told they weren’t on the voting roles and sent to vote miles away
Or denied altogether
And every one of those people are brown
And there’s no recourse
No lawyer is willing to take the case
But it hardly matters because what judge could be trusted to listen?
If you’re part of the charmed circle
If you have power
You can do as you please
And if you aren’t
If you’re different – and as we all know- that’s bad
Then they are doing you a favor letting you breathe their air
And if you don’t appreciate it you can just leave
Which is a joke
Because they don’t pay you enough to live on
Let alone leave
Leaving is a dream
Which is too bad
Because if everyone who would leave if they could leave did leave
They wouldn’t have anyone to push around anymore
And maybe they’d have their theocratic, free market paradise
Maybe they’d have exactly what they asked for
Maybe they’d have exactly what they deserve
In my fantasies I start a new kind of Oklahoma Lottery
The leaving Oklahoma Lottery, so once a week
some lucky Oklahoman will win enough money to leave and never come back
to move some place where people are nice to you
Whether you have money or not
Some place people smile at you even if you don’t go to the same church
Some play you can be yourself without being a pariah
Someplace you can have a mural that isn’t painted over
Or public art that isn’t some lumpen tribute to the crony system
Some place the children of Christians aren’t allowed to beat the children of atheists
While the teachers look on unconcerned
In fact no one is allowed to beat anyone
Some place they don’t ask your church affiliation in routine job interviews
In 1986 a woman I knew took a bus from New York City to Okeemuh
To see the birth place of Woody Guthrie
She found nothing but a dingy plaque
When she asked a convenience store clerk
If they had any Woody Guthrie souveniers
The answer was “What if we ain’t proud of the fact?”
Not to put on airs
Or presume the mantle of my betters
But I have every reason to believe
Oklahoma isn’t proud of me either
I never chose Oklahoma
But I can choose to leave
If you’re happy here
And if they like you because you’re not different
If you’re part of that charmed group that makes the rules and does as they please
I leave it to you
For some of us Oklahoma is Hell