As I learn more about the way humans used to live before agriculture (and a few still do today), I am often reminded of an experience I had in my youth that contains parallels to the situation Indigenous groups find themselves in today. Things were going pretty well for them before their lifeways were destroyed: they had life figured out.

Aside from a brief coda, I’ll let parallels speak for themselves. My small tribe will play the part of displaced people, and the Western “authority” figure will be obvious. In making this parallel, in no way do I mean to imply that my momentary discomfort has even the slightest equivalency. That said, the experience still offers a window, even if a very grubby one.

Oh—and if the story comes off as boring, I do apologize, but that’s only because it hasn’t been embellished.

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