As a white, middle class female, history and society have labeled me an oppressor.
And the fact that I have come so far to face is that, by nature,
and by that I mean by the socialized conditioning of my white ancestors, I am.
An oppressor of the people, of the land, of myself.
The history of mainstream culture has deprived me of a connection with nature.
It is this social history that I tire with, that I struggle to accept.
See, but with this wisdom comes freedom,
a freedom to reject the path that society and history has paved for me
and to find my own, to find my own truths.
I am a conserver, and I have found nature to be a conserver too.
Traces of my roots and my life reach further than any town limits or cemetery stonewalls.
You can’t cover my spirit with foundation, eye shadow and lipstick.
It may hide death in my face, but it won’t beautify my spirit.
My soul needs no resting place.
It will continue on to live and breathe in the absence of my body,
which has only been a vessel.
I will not be confined.
I can not be confined, not by religion, not by my race, not by my class.
I will not be put in a box, not in life, and not in death.
This is an excerpt, the last paragraph from a 7 minute monologue I wrote. The main body of the monologue spoke on the subject of cremation and the conservation of the soul.