i mean,
i can see how christopher columbus
“discovered” the Americas from
his perspective.

the same way that
we “discover”
things that are
|new to us|
like space, or the ocean
or a new ******* restaurant.

but if i hike into
the woods and
“discover” some area
of land, or a lake, or a cabin,

the fact that i am seeing it for the first
time with my own eyes
does not mean
that thing did not
exist before i saw it.

there is nothing wrong with
exploration - it is vital
and necessary and exciting.

but exploration does
not equal colonization.
exploration does not
necessitate ownership,
theft, or ******.

it just doesn’t.

so good job, columbus,
for being an explorer and ****.
but maybe let’s try
to see the w h o l e picture.

because if i “discover” your cabin
in the woods and
decide it’s mine, **** you,
take the cabin,
enslave your family,

then have a yearly
“celebration”
where i celebrate my
“discovery”...

i’m just gonna go out
on a limb here
and assume
your enslaved family and their
ancestors wouldn’t
much appreciate that ****?

so let’s just say what we mean.
it’s good to explore.
thanks for being a *******
explorer, columbus. we like
this land, fine.

but we aren’t going to
celebrate the
systematic theft
of land, murdering and
enslaving of other human beings, ok?

unless that’s your thing, in which case
you should just be honest about it
and scream it from the rooftops.

let’s just stop pretending things
are the way we want them to be, and
acknowledge how they actually are.

is that not something we can agree on?!
ugh! i’m just sayin’!

I sing the Mariner who first unfurl’d
An eastern banner o’er the western world,
And taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day;
Who sway’d a moment, with vicarious power,
Iberia’s sceptre on the new found shore,
Then saw the paths his virtuous steps had trod
Pursued by avarice and defiled with blood,
The tribes he foster’d with paternal toil
******’d from his hand, and slaughter’d for their spoil.

Slaves, kings, adventurers, envious of his name,
Enjoy’d his labours and purloin’d his fame,
And gave the Viceroy, from his high seat hurl’d.
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world
Long overwhelm’d in woes, and sickening there,
He met the slow still march of black despair,
Sought the last refuge from his hopeless doom,
And wish’d from thankless men a peaceful tomb:
Till vision’d ages, opening on his eyes,
Cheer’d his sad soul, and bade new nations rise;
He saw the Atlantic heaven with light o’ercast,
And Freedom crown his glorious work at last.

Almighty Freedom! give my venturous song
The force, the charm that to thy voice belong;
Tis thine to shape my course, to light my way,
To nerve my country with the patriot lay,
To teach all men where all their interest lies,
How rulers may be just and nations wise:
Strong in thy strength I bend no suppliant knee,
Invoke no miracle, no Muse but thee.

Joel Barlow: The Columbiad  (1809)