“—Gerald Vizenor, Fugitive Poses WHEN MY BROTHER and I were kids, we would dress up and play cowboys and Indians with the rest of the kids. I have a photograph of Chris and me in our leather vests, leather chaps, and cowboy hats, looking laconic and tough as cowboys looked. For a nine-year-old, I cut a fine figure in my Western garb. I’m carrying a rifle, with two six-guns strapped to my waist, so there’s no mistaking who I’m supposed to be. Now that I think about it, I don’t remember anyone who... wanted to be an Indian. Not my brother. Not my cousins. Not even the girls in the neighbourhood, who were generally good sports about such things. Having said that, I should acknowledge that a friend of mine, the Canadian historian Brian Dippie, did like to dress up like an Indian. He sent me pictures of himself as a bare-chested young lad in a headdress, complete with drum and tomahawk, emulating his hero, Straight Arrow, the popular character from the radio show of the same name that ran from about 1949 to 1952.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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