Thambusami Roots
Rebekah’s Blog
I have always loved to write. It is the medium where I have felt the most free and the most me. I abandoned it for the better part of my adult life as I started my career, became a mother, and grew a business. My love of words was trapped in the mundanity of work communications, documentation, copywriting, and email.
My creative expression lives in my writing. When used solely as a tool or mere resource, I suffer. Writing is my lifeline. It is where my imagination can soar, where my Spirit speaks. It is an essential part of my existence.
During the pandemic, when the whole world was relegated to their homes, and we watched every manner of racial injustice and social inequity play out before our eyes, the only way I could hold the tension of grief, rage and unceasing hope was to reconnect with my old friend, writing. And from the outpouring of the soul, I present my blog, Thambusami Roots. Thank you for joining me here.
Super Bowl LVIII and America's Moral Dissonance
Sally Bell (Sinkyone Tribe) Remembers the Needle Rock Massacre of the 1850s during the California Gold Rush
My Grandfather and all of my family… were aound the house and not hurting anyone. Soon, about ten o’clock in the morning, some white men came. They killed my grandfather and my mother and my father. I saw them do it. I was a big girl at the time. Then they killed my baby sister and cut her heart out and threw it in the brush where I ran and hid. My little sister was a baby, just crawling around. I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared that I guess I just hid there a long time with my little sister’s heart in my hands.”
From the Oakland Museum of California